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#true level studio
pleasantmag · 2 years
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Interview: Q&A with Slo TV
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Photo by Rosie Simmons
Philadelphia’s Slo TV are gearing up to release their debut album, Incomplete Structures, which was produced and recorded at True Level Studio by Tom Conran and Holly Smith. Additional recording was done at Sound Acres Studio by Conran. Guest vocals on this album feature True Level Studio owners Casey Cavaliere (The Wonder Years) and Adam Ackerman (Honeyjar). We caught up with Tom Conran for a Q&A session to talk about the band, the release, and their future plans! Check out the interview below and don’t forget to check out Incomplete Structures, due out May 6, 2022. Pre-order it here! 
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Pleasant Mag: Thank you for being here to talk with us today. We’re so excited to interview y’all. So tell us, where did your band name come from & how did your band form?
Tom Conran: Working as a producer the past few years, I started experimenting with recording and mixing techniques as a sort of release or escape just trying to detach from the stress of life and make something.  When it got to a point that I wanted to realize some of this stuff I just started fully recording tracks before even deciding they would have lyrics.  It went from a few songs to an album quickly and I went to some friends for help.
I had been thinking about slow tv(marathon style broadcasting) as a format and idea during this time and it was the only name that felt right. We wanted to play with the contradiction of media and nature, another escape and influence for us.  
PM: What was the process like bringing on UnWoven’s Charlie Singer, CaraCara/Steady Hands’, George Legatos, & Darla’s Brendan Monohan?
TC: When I was writing the tracks I knew i wanted Charlie to record drums so when he was down to join the band I was stoked. He beats the living shit out of the drums and it really comes through in a beautiful way on the tracks. On the record Adam Ackerman lent his talents to the bass and some background vocals, so when it came time to translate that live, Honeyjar drummer Richie Straub, linked me up with Brendan and It was a perfect fit from the get go so I eventually got him to find me George as well.  First practice we had with George, he knew the songs better then me. Again a perfect fit.
PM: Can you tell us a little bit about what was the writing process like for your debut album? Was it collective among the band members?
TC: These tracks started out as ambient synth demos that were totally free form and were scoring some of Holly’s old art school video workfilms. Slowly the tracks built up into full band arrangements. After all the instrumentation was tracked, the songs just called for more. So Holly and I started to write lyrics with the focus of bringing some pop and poetry to them. It’s wild to reflect on the transformation of these songs since their inception.
When I got together with the band we focused on the emotional story we wanted to tell with each song.  Im still always working on l demos so I’m am excited next time around to bring them to the band and get their influence early on.
PM: Why did you choose a full length album to release first rather than an EP? Any reason in particular?
TC: I was really using this process to, process, if you will, a lot of events in my life and it was a large span of time so I ended up with 20 songs. I edited that down to 8 and felt like that’s what it needed to be.  
PM: Do you have a favorite song on this album? What is it and why?
TC: One of my favorite moments, sonically, is the second chorus of “Free Hands”. The overall composition of the section always guts me. It‘s a perfect photo of the exact emotion I was trying to explain.  This is the one song on the record that was actually about the past unlike the others which were reactions to the these two years. It is also the one Holly pushed me to write about, and her favorite on the album
PM: What was it like recording this album at True Level Studio, which you co-own with Casey Cavaliere of The Wonder Years?
TC: It was great, I was able to experiment and sonically carve out exactly what I wanted to portray. It’s such a a privilege and a pleasure to say that the entire record is made in spaces myself and Adam have acoustically designed, tuned, or made. True Level is co-owned with Casey, Adam and myself. We went to Sound Acres to track drums and then brought it back to True Level Studio to track everything else. Holly was able to step in on vocal production and recording, and as co-writer that led to really vulnerable tracking sessions.
PM: What are you most excited for now that the album is out?
TC: I am ecstatic to show people how these songs translate live. Rather then a direct redo of the sonic experimentation and exploration the record goes down, we went for a more emotion based translation of what the songs felt like. This creates an experience that has a relationship to the record but is also completely new and has room to expand.
PM: What are you hoping to get out of this release?
TC: I wanted to put it out there as a way to heal myself but if it helps anyone else get through anything that would be a cherry on top
PM: Any plans for touring this year? As a studio owner and a band with band members who are involved in many other projects, will that make touring challenging, if that’s something you’re interested in?
TC: As of right now, we hope to play locally as much as possible, and our release show is May 11 at Ortliebs! No tour on the books as of yet, but I’d never count it out! We’re all getting good at working from where and when we can these days so hopefully we are able to take any opportunities that come our way.
PM: Are there any bands you’d like to tour with? Dream tour lineup?
TC: Dream line up for me would be opening for Pedro the Lion, Broken Social Scene, and probably Radiohead headlining. Wild.
PM: What are some artists you’ve been listening to lately?
TC: Right now it’s the new Orville Peck, Soul Glo, and Wet Leg records with some old Willie Nelson records mixed in there.
PM: Anything else you’d like to add?
TC: Our record Incomplete Structures comes out tomorrow (5/6) and our record release show on (5/11) in Philadelphia at Ortlieb’s!
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badnewswhatsleft · 2 months
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2023 september - rock sound #300 (fall out boy cover) scans
transcript below cut!
WHAT A TIME TO BE ALIVE
With the triumphant ‘So Much (For) Stardust’ capturing a whole new generation of fans, Fall Out Boy are riding high, celebrating their past while looking towards a bright future. Pete Wentz and Patrick Stump reflect on recent successes and the lessons learned from two decades of writing and performing together.
WORDS: James Wilson-Taylor PHOTOS: Elliot Ingham
You have just completed a US summer tour that included stadium shows and some of your most ambitious production to date. What were your aims going into this particular show?
PETE: Playing stadiums is a funny thing. I pushed pretty hard to do a couple this time because I think that the record Patrick came up with musically lends itself to that feeling of being part of something larger than yourself. When we were designing the cover to the album, it was meant to be all tangible, which was a reaction to tokens and skins that you can buy and avatars. The title is made out of clay, and the painting is an actual painting. We wanted to approach the show in that way as well. We’ve been playing in front of a gigantic video wall for the past eight years. Now, we wanted a stage show where you could actually walk inside it.
Did adding the new songs from ‘So Much (For) Stardust’ into the setlist change the way you felt about them?
PATRICK: One of the things that was interesting about the record was that we took a lot of time figuring out what it was going to be, what it was going to sound like. We experimented with so many different things. I was instantly really proud. I felt really good about this record but it wasn’t until we got on stage and you’re playing the songs in between our catalogue that I really felt that. It was really noticeable from the first day on this tour - we felt like a different band. There’s a new energy to it. There was something that I could hear live that I couldn’t hear before.
You also revisited a lot of older tracks and b-sides on this tour, including many from the ‘Folie à Deux’-era. What prompted those choices?
PETE: There were some lean years where there weren’t a lot of rock bands being played on pop radio or playing award shows so we tried to play the biggest songs, the biggest versions of them. We tried to make our thing really airtight, bulletproof so that when we played next to whoever the top artist was, people were like, ‘oh yeah, they should be here.’ The culture shift in the world is so interesting because now, maybe rather than going wider, it makes more sense to go deeper with people. We thought about that in the way that we listen to music and the way we watch films. Playing a song that is a b-side or barely made a record but is someone’s favourite song makes a lot of sense in this era. PATRICK: I think there also was a period there where, to Pete’s point, it was a weird time to be a rock band. We had this very strange thing that happened to us, and not a lot of our friends for some reason, where we had a bunch of hits, right? And it didn’t make any sense to me. It still doesn’t make sense to me. But there was a kind of novelty, where we could play a whole set of songs that a lot of people know. It was fun and rewarding for us to do that. But then you run the risk of playing the same set forever. I want to love the songs that we play. I want to care about it and put passion into what we do. And there’s no sustainable way to just do the same thing every night and not get jaded. We weren’t getting there but I really wanted to make sure that we don’t ever get there. PETE: In the origin of Fall Out Boy, what happened at our concerts was we knew how to play five songs really fast and jumped off walls and the fire marshal would shut it down. It was what made the show memorable, but we wanted to be able to last and so we tried to perfect our show and the songs and the stage show and make it flawless. Then you don’t really know how much spontaneity you want to include, because something could go wrong. When we started this tour, and we did a couple of spontaneous things, it opened us up to more. Because things did go wrong and that’s what made the show special. We’re doing what is the most punk rock version of what we could be doing right now.
You seem generally a lot more comfortable celebrating your past success at this point in your career.
PETE: I think it’s actually not a change from our past. I love those records, but I never want to treat them in a cynical way. I never want there to be a wink and a smile where we’re just doing this because it’s the anniversary. This was us celebrating these random songs and we hope people celebrate them with us. There was a purity to it that felt in line with how we’ve always felt about it. I love ‘Folie à Deux’ - out of any Fall Out Boy record that’s probably the one I would listen to. But I just never want it to be done in a cynical way, where we feel like we have to. But celebrating it in a way where there’s the purity of how we felt when we wrote the song originally, I think that’s fucking awesome. PATRICK: Music is a weird art form. Because when you’re an actor and you play a character, that is a specific thing. James Bond always wears a suit and has a gun and is a secret agent. If you change one thing, that’s fine, but you can’t really change all of it. But bands are just people. You are yourself. People get attached to it like it’s a story but it’s not. That was always something that I found difficult. For the story, it’s always good to say, ‘it’s the 20th anniversary, let’s go do the 20th anniversary tour’, that’s a good story thing. But it’s not always honest. We never stopped playing a lot of the songs from ‘Take This To Your Grave’, right? So why would I need to do a 20-year anniversary and perform all the songs back to back? The only reason would be because it would probably sell a lot of tickets and I don’t really ever want to be motivated by that, frankly. One of the things that’s been amazing is that now as the band has been around for a while, we have different layers of audience. I love ‘Folie à Deux’, I do. I love that record. But I had a really personally negative experience of touring on it. So that’s what I think of when I think of that record initially. It had to be brought back to me for me to appreciate it, for me to go, ‘oh, this record is really great. I should be happy with this. I should want to play this.’ So that’s why we got into a lot of the b-sides because we realised that our perspectives on a lot of these songs were based in our feelings and experiences from when we were making them. But you can find new experiences if you play those songs. You can make new memories with them.
You alluded there to the 20th anniversary of ‘Take This To Your Grave’. Obviously you have changed and developed as a band hugely since then. But is there anything you can point to about making that debut record that has remained a part of your process since then?
PETE: We have a language, the band, and it’s definitely a language of cinema and film. That’s maintained through time. We had very disparate music tastes and influences but I think film was a place we really aligned. You could have a deep discussion because none of us were filmmakers. You could say which part was good and which part sucked and not hurt anybody’s feelings, because you weren’t going out to make a film the next day. Whereas with music, I think if we’d only had that to talk about, we would have turned out a different band. PATRICK: ‘Take This To Your Grave’, even though it’s absolutely our first record, there’s an element of it that’s still a work in progress. It is still a band figuring itself out. Andy wasn’t even officially in the band for half of the recording, right? I wasn’t even officially the guitar player for half of the recording. We were still bumbling through it. There was something that popped up a couple times throughout that record where you got these little inklings of who the band really was. We really explored that on ‘From Under The Cork Tree’. So when we talk about what has remained the same… I didn’t want to be a singer, I didn’t know anything about singing, I wasn’t planning on that. I didn’t even plan to really be in this band for that long because Pete had a real band that really toured so I thought this was gonna be a side project. So there’s always been this element within the band where I don’t put too many expectations on things and then Pete has this really big ambition, creatively. There’s this great interplay between the two of us where I’m kind of oblivious, and I don’t know when I’m putting out a big idea and Pete has this amazing vision to find what goes where. There’s something really magical about that because I never could have done a band like this without it. We needed everybody, we needed all four of us. And I think that’s the thing that hasn’t changed - the four of us just being ourselves and trying to figure things out. Listening back to ‘Folie’ or ‘Infinity On High’ or ‘American Beauty’, I’m always amazed at how much better they are than I remember. I listened to ‘MANIA’ the other day, and I have a lot of misgivings about that record, a lot of things I’m frustrated about. But then I’m listening to it and I’m like ‘this is pretty good.’ There’s a lot of good things in there. I don’t know why, it’s kind of like you can’t see those things. It’s kind of amazing to have Pete be able to see those things. And likewise, sometimes Pete has no idea when he writes something brilliant, as a lyricist, and I have to go, ‘No, I’m gonna keep that one, I’m gonna use that.’
On ‘So Much (For) Stardust’, you teamed up with producer Neal Avron again for the first time since 2008. Given how much time has passed, did it take a minute to reestablish that connection or did you pick up where you left off?
PATRICK: It really didn’t feel like any time had passed between us and Neal. It was pretty seamless in terms of working with him. But then there was also the weird aspect where the last time we worked with him was kind of contentious. Interpersonally, the four of us were kind of fighting with each other… as much as we do anyway. We say that and then that myth gets built bigger than it was. We were always pretty cool with each other. It’s just that the least cool was making ‘Folie’. So then getting into it again for this record, it was like no time has passed as people but the four of us got on better so we had more to bring to Neal. PETE: It’s a little bit like when you return to your parents’ house for a holiday break when you’re in college. It’s the same house but now I can drink with my parents. We’d grown up and the first times we worked with Neal, he had to do so much more boy scout leadership, ‘you guys are all gonna be okay, we’re gonna do this activity to earn this badge so you guys don’t fucking murder each other.’ This time, we probably got a different version of Neal that was even more creative, because he had to do less psychotherapy. He went deep too. Sometimes when you’re in a session with somebody, and they’re like, ‘what are we singing about?’, I’ll just be like, ‘stuff’. He was not cool with ‘stuff’. I would get up and go into the bathroom outside the studio and look in the mirror, and think ‘what is it about? How deep are we gonna go?’ That’s a little but scarier to ask yourself. If last time Neal was like a boy scout leader, this time, it was more like a Sherpa. He was helping us get to the summit.
The title track of the album also finds you in a very reflective mood, even bringing back lyrics from ‘Love From The Other Side’. How would you describe the meaning behind that title and the song itself?
PETE: The record title has a couple of different meanings, I guess. The biggest one to me is that we basically all are former stars. That’s what we’re made of, those pieces of carbon. It still feels like the world’s gonna blow and it’s all moving too fast and the wrong things are moving too slow. That track in particular looks back at where you sometimes wish things had gone differently. But this is more from the perspective of when you’re watching a space movie, and they’re too far away and they can’t quite make it back. It doesn’t matter what they do and at some point, the astronaut accepts that. But they’re close enough that you can see the look on their face. I feel like there’s moments like that in the title track. I wish some things were different. But, as an adult going through this, you are too far away from the tether, and you’re just floating into space. It is sad and lonely but in some ways, it’s kind of freeing, because there’s other aspects of our world and my life that I love and that I want to keep shaping and changing. PATRICK: I’ll open up Pete’s lyrics and I just start hearing things. It almost feels effortless in a lot of ways. I just read his lyrics and something starts happening in my head. The first line, ‘I’m in a winter mood, dreaming of spring now’, instantly the piano started to form to me. That was a song that I came close to not sending to the band. When I make demos, I’ll usually wait until I have five or six to send to everybody. I didn’t know if anyone was gonna like this. It’s too moody or it’s not very us. But it was pretty unanimous. Everyone liked that one. I knew this had to end the record. It took on a different life in the context of the whole album. Then on the bridge section, I knew it was going to be the lyrics from ‘Love From The Other Side’. It’s got to come back here. It’s the bookends, but I also love lyrically what it does, you know, ‘in another life, you were my babe’, going back to that kind of regret, which feels different in ‘Love From The Other Side’ than it does here. When the whole song came together, it was the statement of the record.
Aside from the album, you have released a few more recent tracks that have opened you up to a whole new audience, most notably the collaboration with Taylor Swift on ‘Electric Touch’.
PETE: Taylor is the only artist that I’ve met or interacted with in recent times who creates exactly the art of who she is, but does it on such a mass level. So that’s breathtaking to watch from the sidelines. The way fans traded friendship bracelets, I don’t know what the beginning of it was, but you felt that everywhere. We felt that, I saw that in the crowd on our tour. I don’t know Taylor well, but I think she’s doing exactly what she wants and creating exactly the art that she wants to create. And doing that, on such a level, is really awe-inspiring to watch. It makes you want to make the biggest, weirdest version of our thing and put that out there.
Then there was the cover of Billy Joel’s ‘We Didn’t Start The Fire’, which has had some big chart success for you. That must have taken you slightly by surprise.
PATRICK: It’s pretty unexpected. Pete and I were going back and forth about songs we should cover and that was an idea that I had. This is so silly but there was a song a bunch of years ago I had written called ‘Dark Horse’ and then there was a Katy Perry song called ‘Dark Horse’ and I was like, ‘damn it’, you know, I missed the boat on that one. So I thought if we don’t do this cover, somebody else is gonna do it. Let’s just get in the studio and just do it. We spent way more time on those lyrics than you would think because we really wanted to get a specific feel. It was really fun and kind of loose, we just came together in Neal’s house and recorded it in a day. PETE: There’s irreverence to it. I thought the coolest thing was when Billy Joel got asked about it, and he was like, ‘I’m not updating it, that’s fine, go for it.’ I hope if somebody ever chose to update one of ours, we’d be like that. Let them do their thing, they’ll have that version. I thought that was so fucking cool.
It’s also no secret that the sound you became most known for in the mid-2000s is having something of a commercial revival right now. But what is interesting is seeing how bands are building on that sound and changing it.
PATRICK: I love when anybody does anything that feels honest to them. Touring with Bring Me The Horizon, it was really cool seeing what’s natural to them. It makes sense. We changed our sound over time but we were always going to do that. It wasn’t a premeditated thing but for the four of us, it would have been impossible to maintain making the same kind of music forever. Whereas you’ll play with some other bands and they live that one sound. You meet up with them for dinner or something and they’re wearing the shirt of the band that sounds just like their band. You go to their house and they’re playing other bands that sound like them because they live in that thing. Whereas with the four of us and bands like Bring Me The Horizon, we change our sounds over time. And there’s nothing wrong with either. The only thing that’s wrong is if it’s unnatural to you. If you’re AC/DC and all of a sudden power ballads are in and you’re like, ‘Okay, we’ve got to do a power ballad’, that’s when it sucks. But if you’re a thrash metal guy who likes Celine Dion then yeah, do a power ballad. Emo as a word doesn’t mean anything anymore. But if people want to call it that, if the emo thing is back or having another life again, if that’s what’s natural to an artist, I think the world needs more earnest art. If that’s who you are, then do it. PETE: It would be super egotistical to think that the wave that started with us and My Chemical Romance and Panic! At The Disco has just been circling and cycling back. I  remember seeing Nikki Sixx at the airport and he was like, ‘Oh, you’re doing a flaming bass? Mine came from a backpack.’ It keeps coming back but it looks different. Talking to Lil Uzi Vert and Juice WRLD when he was around, it’s so interesting, because it’s so much bigger than just emo or whatever. It’s this whole big pop music thing that’s spinning and churning, and then it moves on, and then it comes back with different aspects and some of the other stuff combined. When you’re a fan of music and art and film, you take different stuff, you add different ingredients, because that’s your taste. Seeing the bands that are up and coming to me, it’s so exciting, because the rules are just different, right? It’s really cool to see artists that lean into the weirdness and lean into a left turn when everyone’s telling you to make a right. That’s so refreshing. PATRICK: It’s really important as an artist gets older to not put too much stock in your own influence. The moment right now that we’re in is bigger than emo and bigger than whatever was happening in 2005. There’s a great line in ‘Downton Abbey’ where someone was asking the Lord about owning this manor and he’s like, ‘well, you don’t really own it, there have been hundreds of owners and you are the custodian of it for a brief time.’ That’s what pop music is like. You just have the ball for a minute and you’re gonna pass it on to somebody else.
We will soon see you in the UK for your arena tour. How do you reflect on your relationship with the fans over here?
PETE: I remember the first time we went to the UK, I wasn’t prepared for how culturally different it was. When we played Reading & Leeds and the summer festivals, it was so different, and so much deeper within the culture. It was a little bit of a shock. The first couple of times we played, I was like, ‘Oh, my God, are we gonna die?’ because the crowd was so crazy, and there was bottles. Then when we came back, we thought maybe this is a beast to be tamed. Finally, you realise it’s a trading of energy. That made the last couple of festivals we played so fucking awesome. When you really realise that the fans over there are real fans of music. It’s really awesome and pretty beautiful. PATRICK: We’ve played the UK now more than a lot of regions of the states. Pretty early on, I just clicked with it. There were differences, cultural things and things that you didn’t expect. But it never felt that different or foreign to me, just a different flavour… PETE: This is why me and Patrick work so well together (laughs).  PATRICK: Well, listen; I’m a rainy weather guy. There is just things that I get there. I don’t really drink anymore all that much. But I totally will have a beer in the UK, there’s something different about every aspect of it, about the ordering of it, about the flavour of it, everything, it’s like a different vibe. The UK audience seemed to click with us too. There have been plenty of times where we felt almost more like a UK band than an American one. There have been years where you go there and almost get a more familial reaction than you would at home. Rock Sound has always been a part of that for us. It was one of the first magazines to care about us and the first magazine to do real interviews. That’s the thing, you would do all these interviews and a lot of them would be like ‘so where did the band’s name come from?’ But Rock Sound took us seriously as artists, maybe before some of us did. That actually made us think about who we are and that was a really cool experience. I think in a lot of ways, we wouldn’t be the band we are without the UK, because I think it taught us a lot about what it is to be yourself.
Fall Out Boy’s ‘So Much (For) Stardust’ is out now via Fueled By Ramen.
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regallibellbright · 8 months
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It’s telling, in a “oh you REALLY didn’t think this one through did you” way, that one of Unity’s walkbacks/clarifications was “Oh no, DEVELOPERS won’t be on the hook for Gamepass/Playstation Plus installations, those fees will go to the distributors!”
Meaning, Microsoft and Sony.
For fees that will be applying retroactively.
If you throw a rock at Gamepass’s biggest indie titles you will probably hit one made in Unity.
And the point at which they go into effect - $200,000 in revenue, 200,000 installs - is COMICALLY low compared to Gamepass numbers.
Like, this is going to easily be in the realm of tens of millions of dollars for Microsoft, minimum. It’s fairly likely to be enough money they actually give a shit.
For fees that will be applying retroactively.
I wish them fucking luck is what I’m getting at they’re gonna fucking need it.
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aeyumicore · 2 months
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☾ .⭒˚ your fragrance ♡ rafayel x afab reader
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⋆.˚ ☾ pairing: rafayel x afab!reader (very fem!reader)
☾ .⭒˚ genre: smut, pwp, pwf
⋆.˚ ☾ word count: 10.4k (how?????)
☾ .⭒˚ content warning: mdni, switch!raf (like he’s both sub and dom in this, if you don’t like that then this may not be for you), knee humping, standing sex, against the wall sex, sorta rough sex, references to rafayel’s lore (no more than what’s talked about the actual memory), dry humping, slightly aphrodisiac sex, dub con if you squint really really really hard, ejaculating in pants, panty ripping, pheromone kink, lots of teasing (calling raf a cat/kitty), cum play? kinda, nipple teasing, slight use of y/n, reader is mc, second person pov
⋆.˚ ☾ video link: absolutely not necessary to watch this to enjoy the fic/smut but it gives a lot of context and also a visual for the fic <3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vaxo4sxm0rc
☾ .⭒˚ a/n: the raf fic is here!! based off the 5* rafayel memory ‘your fragrance.’ the build up is realllllllly long on this one since i wanted to stay as true to the memory as possible. you can def just skip to the smut if you’d like!
i struggled to write raf a lot but enjoyed it so much like he’s so fun to write. i’m def a sub girly so i love writing dom partners, thankfully i hc raf as a switch. if you do not like fics where raf is a switch, then this may not be for you! 
i can’t believe this fic ended up being 10k words too, i was thinking it would be a quick lil smut lol. i don’t even know how my zayne fic ended up being my shortest fic. enjoy my loves!
also this is dedicated to my bestie who is actually rafayel’s number one slut. follow her on x @/myusuchaa for so much good raf and other purple haired boy content. she is the master of rafayel lore, truly his wifey. a queen to us all.
⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾
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you let out an exasperated sigh as your foot taps irritably against the protective painting tarp rafayel always has laid out on the ground of his makeshift art studio, stray paint brushes strewn about. impatiently, you waited for rafayel to finish changing on the couch behind you, careful not to peek. 
somehow, being rafayel’s bodyguard also made you his keeper. and rafayel was not easy to keep. always dragging you with him on odd trips even if you had work, pestering you at all hours of the day and night, disappearing and unable to be contacted for days on end. this particular time it was the latter; rafayel had gone mia three days before his important collab launch party with a high end perfume brand. now, on the night of the party, rafayel was still unable to be reached.
thomas had called you, in a sheer panic, as he always did when he needed help wrangling rafayel. he knew you were the only one in this world that could level with rafayel. and he’d never told you this before, but you were also the only one who could bend rafayel’s unbreakable stubbornness; a perfect match for the purple-haired obstinate artist. and thus, thomas had personally designated you as rafayel’s keeper. 
and so, you found yourself at rafayel’s massive house, in the most extravagant evening dress you owned, hauling him off to his own damn party.
his annoyingly alluring voice cuts into the silence of the studio, “you can turn around now and give me a hand with something else.” you snap around to be met with the sight of rafayel, irritatingly and devilishly handsome in his expensive white dress shirt and designer cardigan, leaning lazily against the sofa with the tie you’d previously used to tie his hands with, woven in between his fingers. he grins and holds it up to you expectantly, “put this on for me.”
“don’t you have hands?” you snap, but your feet have a mind of their own, and you’re already approaching him on the sofa. 
“my hands are numb from being tied up by you for so long.” you roll your eyes, knowing he’s being dramatic. while he waits deceptively patiently for you to give in, he leisurely takes a wristwatch out of his pocket to put on, as if he’s got all the time in the world. “clock’s ticking, keep it up and we’ll be late at this rate.”
you gape at him. the sheer audacity of this man, as if you’re the reason he’d be late. he only smirks at you, and it just infuriates you all the more. how he could so easily annoy the hell out of you and look so beautiful doing it. but you keep your mouth shut, and exasperatedly lean down to put on his tie for him, doing your best not to strangle him with it. it feels strangely intimate, and the brief reprieve finally gives you an opportunity to speak to him.
“thomas said you have to be present for all parts of the event. there will be reporters at the entrance taking photos, and…” you rattle off, before you realize rafayel is being uncharacteristically silent, “are you even listening?”
you look up from the tie in your fingers to glance at rafayel’s face. he doesn’t look the least bit interested in your words, instead his eyes are fixated on your wrist. you tap his chest to get his attention but he remains still, eyes still on your hands atop his collarbones. you curiously wave your hand in front of his face, hoping to snap him out of his trance. fortunately you do, but unfortunately rafayel grabs your wrist suddenly and urgently.
“...what’s the matter?” the bewilderment is unmistakable in your voice. you’re used to rafayel’s erratic and quirky behavior, but this was alarming, even to you.
finally his gaze breaks away from your wrist and he speaks, “i heard you talking about the event…” but just as quickly as you’d diverted his attention, it's back on your wrist. his voice is unusually clouded, deeper than usual. his eyes are back on your wrist that’s enclosed in his fingers, as a strange expression crosses his face. it almost feels as if he’s trying to hold himself back, but you’re unsure from what. 
“your hand…” he trails off, inexplicable emotions caught in his hoarse voice. he suddenly tugs you towards him by your wrist, and you stumble forward. 
“rafayel?! wait!” as you fall forward, your feet run out of space and hit the bottom of the sofa, causing you to tumble on top of him. he catches you easily, sitting you on top of his lap while he brings your captured wrist right up to the side of his face. the awkward position forces you to settle your legs on either side of his thighs, straddling him against the designer couch. the half knotted tie comes undone and you’re left clutching the smooth material in your hands. if it weren’t for the compromising position you found you and rafayel in, you'd be slightly disappointed at seeing your hard work unraveled. 
the grip on your wrist tightens impossibly, almost possessively, “hold still.” his command is not totally unusual; rafayel is always demanding things of you, his precious bodyguard. but his voice comes out in a strange and sensual husk, leaving you confused, nervous, and weirdly burning. his silky smooth dress pants shuffle under you, and you’re reminded of the expensive clothes you’re pressed up against, likely worth more than a month of your hunter salary. 
“your suit! it’ll get wrinkled.”
“i don’t care…let me smell this…” he trails off, his voice sounding impossibly far away. you can feel the tickle of his inhale against your wrist and it makes you shiver, goosebumps forming under his touch.
“what is that?” he asks, mostly to himself, lost in his own little world, “it smells good. and smells familiar…”
it wasn’t at all uncommon for rafayel to be mysterious and even enigmatic, but this was a whole other level of confusion for you, “what…what’s wrong? did something happen?” 
his behavior is starting to worry you. he’s unusually breathless, and you can see a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. the last thing you needed was him getting sick! you could already hear his needy whines in your head at the mere thought. demanding to be taken care of and waited on. you almost want to smile at the thought of it; you act constantly annoyed with rafayel but deep down you know you can’t live without his antics. 
“no, i’m fine. very well, in fact,” but despite his words, rafayel sounds anything but. his voice, normally a bright and charming, albeit annoying, timbre, is now a hoarse and needy rasp. his ticklish touch on the inside of your wrist reminds you of where you got the perfume that he was so intoxicated by.
“come to think of it…i tried an unreleased fragrance in the back office of the exhibition hall. it was made with special ingredients,” you scratch your chin with your free hand, trying your best to recall the name of it. 
“perfume? you spritzed the perfume sample on your wrist?”
you glance at him, concern and confusion written all over your face. isn’t that what you do with perfumes? rafayel shifts his gaze to your eyes, but his breath remains on the inside of your wrist. it’s deafeningly silent and you realize the scent of the perfume gradually grows stronger as your body temperature rises at the proximity of your body to rafayel’s. you’re suddenly reminded of the fact that you’re sitting on his lap, and his face is so very close to your own. 
he’s still lost in his own thoughts as he murmurs, more to himself than you, “it’s a bit bitter like fermented plants…but very fragrant.”
“it could be a mixture of artificial chemical stuff. now, unhand me please,” you’re desperate to detach yourself from him, unsure if you can trust your body when it’s pressed so readily upon rafayel’s own hard and sturdy stature.
“no.” 
your jaw drops at his audacity. but before you can berate him, he’s reaching his free hand to undo the buttons of his collar, as if the clothing is restricting him and making it hard to breath. his purple eyes are glazed over, and a beautiful faint blush paints his cheeks. his exposed collar and chest have you biting back your words, completely losing your train of thought. you squirm at the sight, but rafayel’s hand on your thighs grip you in place, not letting you move a single inch. 
“i could’ve sworn i’ve smelled this fragrance before,” he presses your hand against his cheek as he continues to slowly inhale the scent by the mouthful. it wouldn’t be completely out of the question, the unreleased scent had been developed for his artworks for the collaboration, so it’s very likely he could’ve sampled it during production. 
“we can worry about it later. let’s go. everyone is waiting” you urge, feeling yourself blush as he shifts slightly under you, brushing against your sensitive inner thighs. you pull your hand away from his cheek, only for rafayel to yank it back, like a child unwilling to share his favorite toy.
“let me smell it again,” his demand is meant to be gentle, but comes out rough and urgent. you sigh, letting him melt into your hand again. it’s almost endearing; you quite like being so intimate with rafayel.
“you know, for someone who hates cats, you sure are acting like one,” you tease, “a kitty that found some catnip to be exact.”
the mere mention of cats is usually enough to set rafayel off, pouting like a little baby that’s been teased. but instead, he just distractedly responds, “so then are you a cat? i am not a cat. and also, you’re not allowed to say that. i just couldn’t resist…”
you roll your eyes but can’t help but grin at his adorableness, tempted to just give in to his touch, savoring every moment you possibly can before the bubble bursts.
“what is this weird perfume…” he’s talking to himself again, inspecting your hand carefully. his jumbled thoughts have you worried for him again. although rafayel did often have energy that bordered on adhd, this was much more intense than that.
“are you alright?” you repeat, softly. he doesn’t respond, but leans his cheek into your touch, his lips turning so they’re practically kissing your palm. like this, he inhales the scent with his parted lips. his adam's apple bobs as he gulps, almost feverishly. his hand reaches to further loosen his collared shirt, pulling it open to let the cool air soothe his burning skin. 
“it must be an allergic reaction. this isn’t perfume. how dare they use such underhanded methods to trap me…” his words both confuse and scare you. you’re growing increasingly worried about his flushed and sweaty complexion, his collarbones shining under the faint glow of the city lights through the massive windows. his words fill you with a terror you do not understand.
rafayel holds the area between the bridge of his nose and his forehead, like his head is pounding, before returning to grip the collar of his dress shirt. his hand that holds yours is shaky as he rocks slowly underneath you, inhaling as much of the perfume as he can. his lap brushes against yours and your brain short circuits at the feeling of him pressed against you.
“h-huh?” is the only thing you’re capable of getting out.
“who gave you the perfume? who sent it?” his questions are increasingly alarming you, but you do your best to keep calm. you can tell he’s nervous as well, and the sight makes your chest squeeze. wanting to comfort him, you cup his cheek in your palm and he leans into the touch so contentedly and groaning in satisfaction. truly like a cat.
you blushed despite yourself. it was so difficult to not be aroused in this compromising position. you’d long since had a crush on rafayel, always craving his silly antics and theatrics. missing him intensely when he’d disappear for days at a time. 
“no one. um, why do you look like you’re drunk?” you try to deflect from the burning between your thighs, hoping he can’t notice how hot and bothered you’ve become. 
“i’m not drunk. i just don’t like the scent,” he pouts, but nuzzles your hand against his cheek like a cat getting cheek scratches. he turns his lips back into your palm, opening his mouth until you can feel his teeth graze your skin. he groans as he continues to inhale the scent, making you bite back a moan of your own at his gentle nibbles. 
“rafayel…you…” but you find yourself at a loss for words as he continues to breathe in your scent like it's the oxygen he needs to survive. your own breaths start to come out in shallow pants, and you squirm in his lap. rafayel moans softly into your palm, biting down gently to get you to stop. 
“are you trying to run away again?” he asks, almost painfully, his eyes piercing into yours, so intense and searching. the glassy look in them reminds you of how much you’re worried about his current well being.
“rafayel, you don’t look so good. shouldnt you go to the doctor?” you use the hand rafayel isn’t gripping to take his face between your free fingers and inspect his beautiful and flushed features. 
rafayel’s breath hitches at your touch, goose flesh littering the skin where your touch singes, “i’m not going anywhere.” and though he doesn’t say it, you can feel what’s left unsaid.
and neither are you.
but he continues, dazed, “you’re gonna lock me up again…you’re with them. i just know it. don’t think i’m unaware of what you’re about to do.” he has both your wrists in his hands now, gripping them on either side of his neck. “y/n, i won’t fall for it again. not this time.”
though his words scare the shit out of you, you’re unable to concentrate on anything but his eyes that are trained on your neck, where your pulse thrums erratically in anticipation. you’re suddenly hyper aware that your heart is beating so fast you can hardly hear him anymore, despite his face being mere inches from yours. your breath is close enough to mingle with his. it seems he notices too, because he inhales deeply and throws his head back, gasping.
it's then you realize it's not just the scent of the perfume that's setting rafayel off, but your own scent mingled with it. 
“rafayel, snap out of it!” you beg. but rafayel can’t seem to hear you as his cold hand grips the side of your neck, where you’d also dabbed the perfume along. your breath catches in your throat at the icy touch, unsure of what to do.
rafayel senses your hesitation, “don’t worry. i’m not gonna do anything to you.” his voice is a throaty groan, and you’re honestly unsure if that’s even what you want. his body is almost on top of yours now, his breath deafening in your ear. and all you can think about is how you’d wish he’d press into you harder, until you’re suffocating, only able to breathe him in. 
but you go with your better judgment, pushing him gently, putting some distance between the two of you. he glances up from your neck, eyes unfocused, and says nothing. he finds himself staring at your lips that are parted slightly to let out the short pants of breath you’re wheezing out. he leans in slowly so he can breathe in as much of you as he possibly can, just nearly closing the proximity between your lips. 
suddenly, your phone buzzes, snapping you out of your little bubble with rafayel, “its thomas! he probably wants to remind us of the time. let's head out!” you shove your phone until rafayel’s hands, forcing him to take thomas’s call for you. 
while he’s distracted, you slip out from beneath him and bolt to the nearest bathroom. as you move your legs, you’re made acutely aware of the slick that has formed in your panties. but you focus first on furiously washing off the scent from your wrists and neck. as you scrub, you glance up at the mirror in front of you. you swear at the site of yourself, unbelievably disheveled and undeniably aroused. 
as you continue to adamantly scrub, you can faintly make out rafayel on the phone with thomas, just outside.
“no, we’re not going to make it. i need to take care of something urgent. don’t call again please, bye.” when you turn off the faucet, you go to lean against the wall adjacent to the sink, trying to steady yourself and collect your thoughts. you turn around and gently rest your forehead against the wall, sighing into the cool surface against your burning skin, willing the arousal between your legs to go away. you try to remind yourself of poor thomas all alone at the exhibition right now. your guilt is short lived as you hear the patter of rafayel’s feet approaching the bathroom.
“where are you going?” rafayel’s words are right behind you, and his hand presses against the bathroom wall that your forehead rests on. you whip around and find yourself trapped between rafayel’s hard body and the solid wall behind you. you back up instinctively, but find yourself hitting the cold surface before you even take a single step back.
“gotcha,” rafayel smirks softly, and you tremble at his proximity to you. his other hand grips a towel bar to your left, while his other hand leans against the wall to your right, so you’re utterly trapped against him. he’s so close, close enough that you can feel his rapid breaths fanning across your parted lips. as rafayel’s eyes roam all over you, from your lips to your heaving chest, you feel very much like a lamb caught in a lion’s den. except you don’t want to escape.
“rafayel…” you murmur using both your hands to gently push against his chest, unintentionally brushing against the exposed skin below his collar, under his unbuttoned dress shirt. you’re hoping he’ll have mercy and release you, afraid that the palpable sexual tension in the air would cloud your, and rafayel’s, judgment. 
he shivers as your wet hands brush against his chest, knuckles turning white as they grip the towel bar next to you. his breath comes out in shallow pants, chest heaving up and down, with a light sheen of sweat painting his pale skin. the sight snaps you out of the moment, reminding you that rafayel seems like he might have a fever.
“let’s go to the hospital…i’m worried about you,” your hands shift to grip his open shirt, bringing the fabric together to cover him up. rafayel’s hand releases the towel bar to take both of your hands into his, trapping them against his chest. 
“what will it take for you to believe that i’m okay? i’m exactly where i want to be,” his gruff voice invades all your senses while his eyes burn holes through your own. he presses himself further into you, until his forearm is resting against the wall above you, only your joined hands pressed against his chest separating the two of you. he leans down, his face now impossibly close to yours, and for a second you find yourself lost in his purple and blue cosmic eyes. 
you take a deep breath, trying to ground yourself to reality, and remind yourself that rafayel’s actions are only fueled by the strange effects the perfume has on him. he’s not in his right mind, and you need to think for him. 
you whisper, craning your neck up to look into his eyes, “you’re not yourself right now. let me help you, i can take you to the doctor.” 
rafayel leans down, resting his chin in the crook of your neck. he breathes you in, the smell of the perfume, still potent despite the scrubbing, mixed with your pheromones invading his very being. slowly, almost like it pains him to do so, he lifts his head away from you. he releases your hands and uses that same hand that gripped them to lift your chin towards him.
“do you know the only thing you could do that would help me?” his hooded eyes lock yours in. his voice is the soft purr you know and love, slightly tinged with a rough and carnal desire that shakes you to your core.
“name it. i’ll do it for you.“ part of you knows that rafayel isn’t going to ask you for anything regarding his health but you can’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth. you’re stepping into very dangerous territory and you can’t hold yourself back.
“kiss me,” his voice is low, but the assertive demand in it is undeniable. his command makes you shift in between his legs against the wall, becoming hyper aware of how deeply your bodies pressed into each other. you know you want to, you’ve wanted to for some time now. but you can’t shake the idea that the strange effects of the perfume are clouding rafayel’s judgment and inhibitions.
“r-rafayel…” you stutter hesitantly. trembling ever so slightly, you lean in to peck his flushed cheek. you watch, slightly amused, as rafayel’s ears get even pinker.
“why must you always make me beg?” he whines. his lips stick out in a signature rafayel pout, one you’ve grown to absolutely adore, no matter how annoying it can be. 
you can’t help but laugh breathlessly, your chin still in his grip, “i don’t make you. you just love to beg.“
with your face still in his grip, he sighs dramatically, “then i won’t beg anymore.” he brings his face to yours and captures your lips with his. he swallows your surprised squeak, which is quickly replaced by a throaty moan of longing and anticipation. rafayel absolutely devours your noises, his lips so commanding against your own, bending them to his every will. they’re so soft, and you can’t help but think they fit so perfectly slotted against your own. 
though you can taste the urgency on him, rafayel takes his time with you, engraving the taste and feel of you in his mind forever. he takes it so tortuously and deliciously slow that you find yourself nibbling on his bottom lip, begging him to take you fully. 
you can just feel his maddening smirk against your lips. instead of indulging you, rafayel laces his practiced fingers under your dress’s skirt and onto your thighs. only when you yelp in surprise does he finally slip his tongue into your mouth, always intentionally doing things to take you by surprise. 
the new sensation of your tongues on each other seems to have rafayel equally feral, because you feel the unmistakable press of his erection into your stomach. needing to do something with your hands, you trace the outlines of his chest muscles, enjoying the feel of them finally against your fingers.
rafayel’s hands venture to your back, expertly undoing the zipper of your dress, and then your bra. gasping into his open mouth as his fingers return to the pebbling skin of your nipples. he gives a harsh flick to each, and your knees buckle against the sensitivity. you sink down against the wall, lips still attached to his for dear life, but rafayel shifts so that he catches you with his knee instead. the mid length black dress your wore rides up and serves as a sheer layer of protection between your dampening panties and his knee. the friction of his leg against your crotch is unbearable, forcing you to throw your head back in pleasure.
your reaction only serves to spur rafayel further, as he begins to knead his knee into your cunt slowly. your body turns to mush at the ecstasy of his knee against your most sensitive region, but rafayel holds you steady with his hands gripping you from the swell of your underboobs. 
burying his face into the crook of your neck, he inhales again. unbeknownst to you, he practically comes undone at the smell of you alone, “you say i’m always whining but look at you.” 
you whimper at his teasing words right against your ear, clutching the back of his neck for support as he continues to hump his knee into you. 
suddenly, rafayel stops, letting his knee still against your increasingly damp cunt. you can’t help but whine as you look up into his amused eyes. there’s mischief in them as he grins, “i’m getting tired. you’re going to have to do the work.”
despite your lust clouded brain, you can still think coherently enough to see through his brattiness. you narrow your eyes at him, “you’re tired? let me take you to the hospital. i knew you weren’t feeling well.” you duck down to escape his arms that cage you in, but he only lowers them so that they now trap you at the waist instead.
“you’re so mean to me y/n,” he huffs, “can’t you tell how vulnerable i am right now?”
“because of the perfume? why does it affect you so much?” you murmur, squeezing his cheeks slightly. 
from rafayel’s expression you can tell he’s unwilling to share too much information. and as annoying as that was, you trusted him wholeheartedly and knew better than to prod him too much. you would take what you could get.
he rests his head on your shoulder, unwilling to meet your stare. dusting your hair behind your ear, he sniffs you again, practically consuming the scent. you shiver at the slight breeze he creates at your exposed neck, “i-it’s not just the perfume. i’ve dealt with this scent before, and i’ve developed a tolerance to it.” 
you hold his neck against your shoulder, and gently knead his damp skin, letting him inhale the smell like his life depended on it, “then why?”
rafayel sighs, releasing the wall behind you but instead trapping you by wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing your bodies together. you sigh in satisfaction as his erection presses warmly against you again, your pussy craving his touch
finally he speaks, but his voice is low and almost feels dangerous, “the marine plant the perfume is extracted from…on its own no longer does anything to me. but when it’s exposed to another scent that i cannot control myself around…the reaction it causes can be extremely potent.” 
the sensations of his body pressed tightly against yours makes your brain practically non-functional, so you’re not following his train of thought, so you ask dumbly, “like the air?”
you can practically hear rafayel rolling his eyes in his voice, “i need air to survive but do you think i can’t control myself at all times of the day?”
“okay well i’m confused! and to be fair you do act like an idiot at all times of the day so how am i supposed to know?!” he ignores you, taking another lungfull of the scent on your skin into his body. this time, he growls through an intense shiver, his grip on your body tightening against him. as if the very smell of your skin drove him into a lust filled craze. 
and that’s when you realize what he meant.
“o-oh,” is all you can squeak out. strangely enough, the idea that your scent is what is driving rafayel to madness makes you leak further into the puddle that had formed in your panties. 
rafayel groans again, one his fists releasing your body to gently pound into the wall behind you, “i-i can smell the arousal in your scent. it’s driving me insane.” 
knowing he can smell the dampness between your thighs is both utterly embarrassing and completely erotic. your heart lurches, wanting nothing but to take his discomfort away and make him feel good, “h-how can i help you?” 
reluctantly, he removes his chin off your shoulder and turns to face you, gripping your biceps in his hands, almost to the point of pain, “do you mean that? because you can’t take it back.”
shivering at the implications of his words, you nod slowly but more sure than ever, “yes. let me help you. i want to help you” 
“i-if you want to help me…” rafayel’s voice is doubtful, like he’s scared you will deny him before he’s even gotten the chance to put his request out. between your thighs, you feel his knee creeping its way back against your leaking cunt. the shock to your recovering clit causes you to clutch rafayel’s firm shoulders and throw your head back with a breathy moan. rafayel feeds off your pleasure, imagining what you would sound like when you were actually stuffed to the brim with him. 
“i want…i need to see you cum all over me,” rafayels throaty plea makes you blush profusely. you almost want to smack him across the head for his shameless words, but the pout on his face reminds you that he’s absolutely serious that this will help him. that seeing you come undone for him will help take the edge off of the effect the perfume is having on him. 
“o-okay.” you gulp, nodding. the relief on his face is mixed with unbridled excitement that makes you squirm in anticipation of what's to come. your feet shift, which causes you to grind down on his knee once more. unable to withstand the unintentional teasing any further, you languidly moan and grind your leaking cunt against him to relieve some of the pulsing tension in your gut. 
your broken groans grace rafayel’s ears and you can actually see his eyes light up with pleasure while his ears burn an even deeper red. his breath is shaky as he dips his head back down, inhaling deeply and dusting a kiss to the pulse point on your neck. you shiver as he gently uses his tongue against your neck to soothe his raging desire. 
his reaction intrigues you, and you can’t help but want to tease him further, just a little. peering at him through your eyelashes, you tip toe upwards so you can fan your bated breath across his face, letting him bask in your scent. your tongue reaches out to gently swipe across his bottom lip, all the while you continue to pleasure yourself using his thigh. 
rafayel is unable to contain his excitement as he watches you use his body for your own gratification. he pants desperately into the crook of your neck, high off your pheromones invading all his senses. through both your whiny moans, you reach out to graze his cock through his dress pants. 
rafayel hisses at the slightest contact, and his reaction ignites your confidence, provoking you further. you grip him through the silky smooth trousers, holding his throbbing erection in your hand, using your thumb to tease where you think his slit would be. 
“fuck–hah, be gentle please baby. m’sensitive,” he whines through gritted teeth. your cunt clenches at his words, so teasing yet so endearing from rafayel’s lips. you can feel the coil in your gut tightening as you continue to hump into rafayel’s knee, using his body to chase your own high. your black dress has ridden up, and now the only barrier between rafayel’s knee and your sopping pussy is your equally soaked panties. you bite your lip and pray that rafayel doesn’t notice the moist streaks that are starting to appear on his expensive pants. 
through your hooded eyes, you can see rafayel is enjoying this just as much, if not more, than you are. his eyes are thick with lust, and you can practically see the pulse of his neck pound against his delicate skin. he desperately gasps for air, or maybe he’s trying to breathe more of you in, as you near your earth shattering climax. 
“touch yourself for me,” you purr at him, purposely jutting your bottom lip out in a pout. he obliges obediently, one hand quickly undoing his belt and slipping in to grab his unbelievably hard cock into his hands. 
as you watch his face contort in pleasure, you’re filled with the need to grab him into your own hands. “can i touch you too?” you ask innocently with wide eyes, imagining just how smooth he will feel in your bare hands. 
rafayel whines, still obediently pumping his cock in his hands, “yes please, i need you to touch me.” at his plea, you let your hands find their way to his hands, still diligently pumping up and down. you wrap your smaller hand over his and mimic his motions. you gasp at the sheer size of him, your fingers just barely able to wrap around his girth. you can feel his veins throbbing against your fingers, begging you to continue further. the sheer amount of pre cum that already coats his fingers, and now yours, makes you wonder how delicious his spend would feel inside you instead.
“you’re so dam beautiful when you – fuck – use me like this. dreamed about this for s’long,” he bites out, his hands finding your nipples once more. his long artist fingers tease you expertly, taking the peaks and rolling them gently.
his skilled hands and filthy words accelerate the intensity of your body’s peak quickly approaching you. his entire body is flushed and burns under the pumps of your fist, likely exacerbated by the effects of your scent. you respond to his endless stream of gasps and swears with breathless mewls of your own, whispering sweet words into his ear.
“let me cum rafayel, please. want to cum for you s’bad,” you beg against him, despite him having given you all the power already, knowing the begging will drive him insane. 
rafayel drives his knee further into you as your core grinds into him like second nature. your wrists vigorously pump his leaking cock, the thick heat of it feeling absolutely unreal against your palm. with your free hand you thread your fingers through his long soft hair, gripping gently. with a strangled groan rafayel sinks his teeth into your neck, sucking at your pulse point as if he’s trying to devour your scent. reluctantly he pulls away, throwing his head back in pure pleasure once more. 
“f-fuck you drive me fucking crazy y/n,” he pants, his thick length throbbing at your vigorous pumps along his shaft, almost as if his heart was beating inside it. the endless precum that falls from the tip coats your fingers, making a wet mess in rafayel’s pants and your palm.
he groans in disappointment when you release his erection, but his eyes are trained on your every movement. overcome with your aching need for the gorgeous purple haired man before you, you bring your soaked fingers to your lips and slowly insert your index and middle finger into your parted mouth. you make a show of letting your tongue lap up his essence from your digits, never letting your eyes break contact with his as you devour him off your fingers. you can’t help but let out a muffled moan at the taste of him, sweeter than you could have ever fathomed, so deliciously rafayel.
he nearly hyperventilates as you peer at him through the tears of pleasure that had beaded onto your eyelashes. “look at you, hah, like a fucking masterpiece,” his thumb caresses your lip as his breathless praises make you squirm against his knee. the pre cum on his thumb swipes onto your tongue, and you itch to taste him again. you shift yourself so that you can take his thumb into your mouth, using your tongue to swipe all the slick off his slender fingers. 
rafayel shivers at your touch, his mind a mush of lust and adoration as he watches your eyes roll back at the taste of his cum on your lips. 
“you’re going to be the death of me,” he murmurs, drunk off your pheromones invading his senses. you only smile at him and tip toe up to press your lips against his, wanting him to be able to taste himself on your tongue. he groans into your mouth at the odd sensation of being able to taste both himself and you all at once. both his hands come up to thread in your hair, pulling you as deeply into him as he possibly can. you can feel his exposed chest against your own, his heart pounding rapidly against the swell of your dress covered breasts. the proximity lets him control every twitch of his quads against your cunt and you cry into his mouth at the stimulation. 
as you continue to fuck yourself onto his knee, you find yourself on the cusp of your orgasm, nearly blinded by the ecstasy of his leg wedged between your thighs and the salty taste of his slick on your tongue, “raf-rafayel, m’gonna cum.”
despite his furious blush, he smirks at you, as devilishly handsome as ever, “you gonna cum on my knee baby?”
if it weren’t for the cloud of pleasure fogging your every nerve you’d surely have a snarky retort to throw back at him, but the need to have him is so great you can’t think of a single thing. without even needing to enter you, rafayel has rendered you utterly fucked out. 
so instead, you nod eagerly as your grinding against his knee becomes increasingly sloppy and erratic. rafayel, entranced by the utterly fucked bliss in your eyes can’t stop himself from falling deeper into the abyss that is you: your voice, your eyes, your smell, your soul. he finds himself realizing that, though he’s seen millions of dollars in once in a lifetime artworks, even creating some of his own to add to this infinite world, the entire universe pales in comparison to you. the thick haze of emotions overwhelms him and he finds himself begging, once again.
“p-please cum for me, my love. i need to see it,” rafayel begs into your ear, his breath hot against your skin. the sensation makes your entire body shiver, causing your cunt to quiver further into his soaked knee. you’re not used to his voice, normally teasing and bratty voice, being this needy and adoring. it’s all enough to shove you viciously into your orgasm. you cling onto rafayel as you release all over your panties and his leg, still languidly grinding into you. 
you can’t stop the screams that rip out of your mouth, pure ecstasy and satisfaction laced into your very breath. rafayel holds you tightly against him, cooing into your ear, talking you through the waves of pleasure, as the excruciating ecstasy makes tears spill out of your eyes and onto your cheels. 
rafayel eyes widen in pure awe as he watches every shiver and twitch of your orgasm against his leg. he throws his head back, swearing as your scent becomes exponentially more potent. the smell of your spend is thick in the air, mixing with your pheromones and the perfume until it overloads every nerve in his body. the throbbing in his cock grows unbearable even with nothing touching it, physically twitching uncontrollably as he explodes inside his slacks. 
you cry out one last time when your thighs collapse from the intense climax, and rafayel catches you by your waist, holding you steady against him and the wall behind you. the movements against your cunt slow as you ride out the final waves of your orgasm. with nothing separating his thigh from your cunt but your soaked panties, rafayel can swear he feels your clit throb against him, the aftershocks of your climax wracking your body, just as the effects of his own orgasm sear through his. 
you’re a panting and sobbing mess against his flushed chest. your legs are completely useless, supported solely by rafayel’s strong and safe arms around your waist and his knee still wedged between you. he rests his face in the mess of your hair, breathing you into him. unbeknownst to you, rafayel is reeling from his own climax as he holds you protectively against him, almost for dear life.
through the comfortable silence that has blanketed the bathroom, rafayel’s voice vibrates on the top of your head, “you smell so fucking good baby.”
you smile contentedly against rafayel’s chest, your hands reaching up to smooth his curly hair away from his sweaty forehead, “do you feel better?”
he smiles against your head, taking another deep breath of you into him. his voice is thick with satisfaction, but also unrelenting hunger, “yes, but…” you wait for him to finish his thought, but there’s only silence.
“rafayel?”
his reply comes out strangled and heavy against the top of your head, “i-i need more. i need you.”
you shift so you can look up at him. he doesn’t speak, but his hooded eyes tell you everything he’s thinking. maybe it’s the post orgasm haze, but you find yourself being unable to deny rafayel, wanting nothing more than to please him.
getting on your toes so you can reach him, you let your bottom lip brush against his, relishing in the way his breath catches in his throat, and whisper, “take me rafayel.” 
“sh-shit,” he mumbles and presses his lips the rest of the short distance into yours. he tears into you with such torrid intensity that your knees buckle. as his palms hold your face in place, you cling onto his shoulders for support, the feeling of him enveloping you so overwhelmingly addicting. as your legs give out under the excruciating anticipation of what’s to come, you hook your knee into rafayel’s waist. he grips your thigh, lifting it to hook around his back. his hand kneads into your bare skin as he reluctantly tears his lips from yours.
“you can’t stand anymore?” his cocky grin contrasts the deep blush on his cheeks. before you can snap back at him, he hoists you up against the wall. instinctively you yelp, wrapping your other leg against his waist as he holds you securely against the cool tiles behind you and his solid abdomen.  
his lips simultaneously find yours again, locking deeply with an unrelenting passion that quite literally takes your breath away. as your breath becomes his, your thighs clench at the crushing intensity of his lips, wanting him deeper, harder. his tongue explores every inch of you, and you whimper into him at the pure need that was manifesting in your gut once more. 
feverishly, rafayel breaks away, like he cannot possibly wait another second. he doesn’t even break a sweat as he balances your squirming body with one hand, his other hand reaching down to pull off his belt that he’d undone earlier.
you want to ask rafayel if it’d be more comfortable to go to his bed or even the studio sofa, but you’re rendered speechless as he pulls his cock out of his slacks. you’d felt it in your hands earlier, but seeing it in all its glory under the light was a whole different story. 
rafayel definitely took pride in how he presented himself, his hair, his clothes; everything about him was pristine and curated just how he wanted others to see him. and his manhood was no different. he stood absolutely proud against his naval, his impressive length erect enough to touch just below his belly button, curving straight up. he’s unsurprisinglt well groomed, but with a dusting of pubic hair along his happy trail to his glorious cock. like rafayel himself, it was nothing short of art.
but then you noticed that he has trails of white cream smeared all over his delicious length, matted into the hair along his pelvis. far too much to be just pre cum. 
“d-did you cum earlier?” you can’t stop the grin that forms on your face as you realize rafayel had finished earlier just watching you pleasure yourself against him. literally came undone at the mere thought and sight of your pleasure.
rafayel averts his eyes, hiding under his tousled bangs, his face tomato red, “sh-shut up!” his reaction only makes you laugh and want to provoke him more.
“you’re such a bad boy rafayel, cumming without me touching you,” you coo, using one hand to scratch his hair soothingly, “just an eager little kitty for me.”
rafayel’s eyes narrow as his lips form his signature pouty grimace, “i am not a cat.”
you open your mouth to tease him more, but rafayel pushes you harder into the wall so he can free one hand to rub his thumb against your lips. you yelp at the feel of the stone cold wall being pressed further into your burning skin. with his finger on your mouth, his eyebrow raise at you pointedly.  his eyes light up with an intense and burning warning, “i’m about to fucking ravage you. are you sure you want to keep teasing me?”
his words shut you up instantly. you shake your head vehemently and obediently, your cunt aching at his promises, needing nothing more than to be filled with him.
“good girl,” he murmurs, his hand moving off your lips to reach under your dress, hooking his finger into the waistband of your panties. you shiver at the feel of his palm on your waist, as he attempts to pull them off of you. but he quickly grows impatiently frustrated at the tangle of your bodies. 
“i’ll buy you another pair, ‘kay?” you’re about to protest but rafayel wastes absolutely no time, bunching the delicate material in his fist and tearing it off you. you gape as the sound of fabric ripping sounds in the air and watch the lace material fall to the ground. 
“r-rafayel! i liked that pair!” you scold, hitting his shoulder in a mixture of disbelief but also arousal at his primal urge. you know you should be more upset but you find yourself just melting into a puddle at his unabashed behavior. i mean honestly you wore those in hopes that he might see them anyways. 
“i’ll buy you as many as you want, if you let me rip them off of you,” he grins in feigned apologeticness. at your expression he continues, this time earnestly, “m’sorry, just can’t wait anymore.” and with those words, rafayel sheaths himself into you. you yelp at the alarming stretch, his girth much more than you’re used to. even with the thick slick of your combined orgasms, it’s slightly painful to accommodate him.
simultaneously, rafayel cries out huskily as he enters you, your grip down there absolutely strangling his erection. the finish of your first climax thickly coats his cock, but it’s just barely enough to offset the stretch from how thick he is. his strong arms hold you securely in place as his pelvis slowly begins thrusting up into you, pushing you up the wall at every stroke.
the angle he has you in meant every single thrust hits your cervix, his cock unbelievably lengthy. the curvature causes every stroke to drag deliciously against your g spot which makes you cream uncontrollably at each thrust, a ring of white forming at the base of his cock that splashes into you with every vigorous stroke. your clit rubs roughly against his pelvis, his coarse happy trail rubbing against it with every movement, stimulating your body beyond belief.
“fuck you’re taking me so well baby,” rafayel moans into your ear, swallowing another mouthful of your aroma. you whimper as you feel him getting unbelievably harder at your scent alone, his solid flesh brushing against every single corner of your gummy walls. his veins throb inside of you as he twitches in pleasure. “so fucking tight, all for me yeah?”
“raf, s’big. feel s’good,” you slur, the haze of ecstasy starting to cloud your consciousness. his thrusts go harder, deeper, at your praises, and you cry out, unable to stop your thighs, and simultaneously your cunt, from tightening around him. 
a strangled moan leaves his lips at your movements, his damp forehead pressing against yours as one of his hands leave your thighs to grip the wall next to you. “sh-shit are you always this tight or is this jus’ for me?”
before you can respond, rafayel is babbling huskily into your ear again, “wish you could see yourself right now. you look so beautiful, so fucked out, all for me huh?” 
your eyes squeeze shut at his filthy words, and you can’t help but clench down on him again. your profuse arousal coats the hair along his pelvis, creating the most filthy and lewd noises as rafayel continues to bounce you onto his cock, his stamina absolutely unreal. your lips chant his name, over and over, your brain only filled with him. 
“look at me y/n, need to see you,” rafayel begs into your neck, still absolutely inhaling your pheromones, getting harder at every intake, “jesus you smell so fucking good.”
you force your eyes open, fighting the ecstasy from taking over completely. as he shifts to stare into your eyes, he gives you the most gorgeous rafayel smile that threatens to short circuit your brain and stop your heart. there’s an overwhelming swirl of emotions in his purple-blue eyes: lust, mischief, adoration, respect, longing, and…so much love. 
it’s all enough to make you want to confess the feelings you yourself had forced deep down, trying desperately to forget them for the sake of your friendship and working relationship. rafayel keeps staring into your eyes, straight into your soul, and you finally open your mouth to try and find the words, “i–”
but instead, he cuts you off, bending down so your lips brush against each other again, “i know.” with those words, he presses himself needily into your waiting mouth
grateful that he doesn’t need you to say the words, you return his kiss with equal fervor, doing your best to convey all the things you had wanted to say.
the bruisingly passionate kiss pushes you towards the edge as rafayel continues to bounce you ruthlessly onto his cock. you’re forced to pull away from his lips to let out a strangled cry of pleasure. through the overwhelming ecstasy, rafayel takes the opportunity to shove his hand in between your bodies, easily finding your clit. the stimulation forces you to scream out uncontrollably, your eyes and head rolling back into the wall. 
“jesus look at how soaked you are y/n,” he mumbles in awe, eyes glued to where your bodies connected, “look, baby.”
at his urging, you force yourself to lift your head off the wall and glance down at his fervent ministrations. the sight you’re met is enough to make you finish all over him right then and there. 
the veins in rafayel’s thick forearm bulge as he paws at your clit furiously, the slick glistening on his thick length and splatters as the force of his thrusts rattle you deliciously against the cold wall. as he pulls out of you entirely with each thrust, you can see the throb of each vein of his cock, aching to be thrust back inside you. 
“raf-rafayel,” you gasp out, “i–”
“i-i know baby, i can feel it. squeezing the life out of me,” he groans, shifting your entire weight onto his right arm while his left forearm slams into the wall above your head, anchoring him and allowing him to fuck into you with a new mind numbing intensity. 
his chin digs into your shoulder as he hammers into you relentlessly, “ffuuck baby, gonna make me cum all – shit – over you huh?”
the force of the orgasm that chases you is utterly blinding, and against your better judgment you plead with him, “p-please cum inside raf, i want to feel you.”
you can feel his panting breath hitch by your ear, and he whispers, “are you sure? don’t tease me y/n. y-you can’t take it back. please.”
“won’t take it b-back,” you wail as his thrusts bruise your walls, the painful pleasure edging you closer and closer to your undoing. “please rafayel, need you inside me s’badly.”
at your begging, rafayel goes absolutely insane. he slams you so vigorously against the wall that you can practically feel the entire house shake. every throbbing thrust pushes against your more sensitive spots, bullying right into your cervix. his breath becomes increasingly erratic and he sinks his teeth into your neck to contain his throaty moans. 
the sudden sensation of his teeth against your pulse, so dangerously aggressive yet gently teasing, sends you barreling into your orgasm. “cumming, cumming, m’cumming raf,” you wail repeatedly, unable to form any other words as tears stream down your face and onto his ruined dress shirt. 
your hand roughly tears at rafayel’s hair as he continues to ravage both your clit and your aching hole, finally sending your body into the mind numbing explosion of your climax. your cunt grips onto him for dear life, throbbing uncontrollably to the sloppy rhythm of his thrusts. you ride the endless waves of your orgasm, vision blurring as tears continue to spill from your eyes. 
“raf, s’too much,” you whimper, fingers releasing his hair and reaching down to scratch at his back, trying to relieve any of the overwhelming pleasure that threatened to make you lose consciousness. you couldn’t bring yourself to care about how you were destroying rafayel’s expensive shirt under your nails. your legs tighten around his waist as he continues to pound you into the wall. you’re almost sure your body will be battered and bruise tomorrow, not that you’d complain. 
“m’sorry,” he pants, but only thrusts harder and faster, “jus’ hold onto me love. m’so – ffuuck – so fucking close.” you nod obediently, still riding the last receeding waves of your own orgasm, pussy quivering around every ridge and vein on his shaft. 
“jesus if you could feel how tight you’re squeezing me right now,” rafayel grits through clenched teeth, “you want me to cum inside you that bad? that you’re gonna force it out of me?”
your lids feel so heavy as the pleasure of your orgasm ebbs into exhausted satisfaction, and you murmur, “m’not doing anything raf, you jus’ feel so good. so deep.”
at your praises, rafayel lets out a strangled groan and comes undone inside of you. you cry out as the warmth of his spend fills you, soothing the ache from the ravaging your poor cunt just took. he shoots rope after rope of it into you, a never ending stream of him emptying inside of you.
rafayel rests his forehead against yours, his forearm still using the wall above your head to support him. you both pant into each other as the quivering of your cunt squeezes every last drop of him inside you. he shivers at the feeling of your womanhood throbbing around his softening member, completely spent.
rafayel does his best to keep himself, and you, upright. his arms shake slightly, the aftershocks of his own orgasm devastating every muscle in his body. you can feel his biceps trembling, you fight to keep your eyes open, “s’okay raf i can stand.”
“okay love,” he murmurs into your hair, taking in one last whiff of your scent, before pressing a gentle kiss onto your forehead. you whimper as he slips out of you, your sore hole still wanting nothing more to be filled by rafayel. you do your best to ignore the thick streaks of your collective spend dripping down your legs. as you unhook your thighs and let your feet touch the floor, your body gives out.
rafayel catches you before your knees can crash into the tiled bathroom floor. you don’t have to look at his face to know he’s smirking at you.
“need me to carry you baby?”
as you hold yourself up clutching his arm, you narrow your eyes at him, “no. shut up.”
rafayel chuckles, the smile in his eyes glowing brightly at you, “come on y/n, let me take care of you.”
your snappy refusal is cut off by your squeal as rafayel scoops you into his arms, like a princess. you wince at the feeling of the smearing of dampness between your thighs as rafayel hooks his arms under your thighs. you hadn't even noticed that he’d put his belt back on. 
“always with the theatrics rafayel,” you grin, unable to stop yourself from burying your face into his chest. he smiles in response as he carries you through his home. you breathe in rafayel’s scent, an intoxicating blend of sea salt, cardamom, and arousal. 
“you love me.” 
you sigh to yourself, love him you absolutely did. but that was a conversation you two would need to have another day. 
looking up, you find yourself in rafayel’s room, his white curtains billowing as the night time breeze cascades through them. as rafayel sets you down on his plush king sized bed, your phone rings from the inside of his pocket. you’d almost forgotten you’d given him your phone when thomas had called earlier. 
the phone keeps ringing as rafayel sits besides where you lay, attention focused solely on you. you pat his thigh, “raf? can you pick up my phone?”
rafayel grimaces as he grabs your cell phone from his slack pockets. “it’s just thomas,” he grumbles like a child, “i told him not to call again.”
he takes one look at your unamused expression and sighs in defeat, “fine fine.” 
rafayel picks up the phone, snapping, “what thomas?” 
“speaker phone,” you mouth at him, only able to hear thomas’s erratic mumbles through the phone. he rolls his eyes, but puts the call on speaker, holding it up between you two.
“you guys better be half dead in a ditch or actually dead,” he threatens sulkily, “how could you guys not show up?”
“didn’t i say not to call again?” rafayel fires back, but his tone is teasing. you know rafayel cares about thomas a lot, even if he makes the agent’s life hell. 
“thomas, i’m so sorry! i’ll make it up to you i swear,” you apologize, feeling horribly guilty. you could only imagine how many angry sponsors and reporters he had to deal with. 
as rafayel holds the phone with one hand for you to speak into, he notices your black dress had ridden up to reveal glistening streaks pooling down your legs. he uses the index finger of his free hand to scoop up the spend that continues to drip down your thighs. your breath hitches as he smirks at you, his hand creeping up further, into your inner thigh. 
“you owe me so many dinners,” thomas grumbles, but you have a difficult time paying attention to the rest of his words as rafayel’s hands venture further up, dangerously. you give him a warning look, but his fingers only trail up further to tease you, grazing against your bare slit. 
“are you guys even listening to me?” thomas demands through the phone, his tone is as pouty as rafayel normally is.
“y-yes, i’m sorry,” you try to keep your voice as steady as possible, “i’ll uh, i’ll get you take out tomorrow!” you swat at rafayel’s lingering hands but he doesn’t budge. his ears are pink and you notice his breaths are coming out in short pants as he quietly climbs onto the bed at your feet. you do your best to keep your own moans from bursting uncontrollably out of your lips as his fingers relentlessly tease you.
“yes, and i want boba too. with extra – wait. what are you guys doing?” rafayel and your eyes snap to each other and then to the phone. you’re about to speak when thomas’s shrill voice cuts in again.
“you guys better not be doing what i think you’re doing! i swear to g–”
“‘kay gotta go bye bye thomas love you!” rafayel interrupts sheepishly, ending the call with his thumb. there’s a brief moment of disbelief and silence before you both burst out into laughter. 
you clutch your stomach, trying to catch your breath as the uncontrollable giggles keep coming. but the thought of thomas makes you feel guilty again, “rafayel maybe we can still make it to the party if we hurry. we can’t just leave thomas –”
rafayel shushes you with his finger, his hair falling into his eyes as he leans over you, “i just got an idea for a painting and i have to start right now.” 
you’re no stranger to rafayel’s spontaneous bouts of inspiration. in the past, he’d literally drag you to the oceanside and not ten minutes into the excursion, he’d race home needing to get started on an idea he had right then and there. and sometimes he’d forget you at the beach.
“right now? but we’re not in the studio,” you squirm as rafayel leans closer to your face, shifting his body so that he’s kneeling at your feet, in between your legs. 
“oh. i meant a different kind of painting. maybe on your stomach,” your brows furrow in confusion at his words as he smirks mischievously at you. you squeak as he climbs to hover over you, his body pressed against your still sensitive areas. your body heats up again as the feel of his hardening cock against you. 
his thumb presses against your bottom lip, the salty taste of him invading your senses once more, “or maybe…on your beautiful face.”
the implications of his words finally hits you all at once, and your face burns like a wildfire. you hit his shoulder weakly and unconvincingly, already succumbing to the arousal pooling back in your thighs as you watch the desperate need return to his eyes. 
“r-rafayel!” 
“then again you’re already a piece of art,” he murmurs, his voice groggy with desire. he presses a kiss to your parted lips, then to your exposed collarbone, and then to your covered breasts, “but you know me. i like to take my time with my art.” 
oh you were utterly fucked.
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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 4 months
Text
A Twist of Fate
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Y/N and Harry are exes who have moved on wit their lives and with other people, but have never stopped loving each other. And in an unbelievable twist of fate reconnect. But after all that time, can they still have a future together?
A Twist of Fate Masterlist
WARNINGS: A wee bit of emotional cheating and a steamy unfaithful make out WITH A VERY CUTE moment with the shaved head 🥹🫶
WC: 15K
To Harry, you had always been the one that got away. Your time together had been so good. You both grew and learned, and loved so much but life just got in the way. The split broke you both because you were certain that no matter what, at the end of the day it would always be you together. Learning that it wouldn’t be was devastating. 
For a while you even stopped believing in love and in the good of the universe. Because if love was real, how cruel did the universe actually have to be to tear you apart? It had been a love like neither of you had ever experienced. Your souls were alight for each other and every interaction you exchanged, every hug, every kiss, every glance, every touch fed the fire of your love and passion for each other for five wonderful years. And when the time came for it to end it was heart wrenching. There was just far too much conflict in time and distance, it sometimes felt like your managers were doing it on purpose, you both knew it wasn’t true, of course. You were just starting to reach new levels of fame and were in high demand and you couldn’t keep doing what you were doing to yourselves in trying to make it work.
So when Harry signed on to yet another film and you had gone into the studio for your album you had to reevaluate your relationship. It had to be done over the phone while there was an entire ocean between you because even though it was the wrong way to go about it, you just couldn’t look into each other’s eyes while admitting defeat. There was absolutely no way. It was hard to even breathe at first, but with time it got a bit better and better, and soon you’d met other people and were on your way to being happy like before. But that brought you to this day. After years of being broken up and never speaking or seeing each other you were both frozen in the hallway of a studio in Los Angeles looking right at each other. Time was at a standstill as you just stared for a moment. Both completely shocked at your run in. Harry’s tongue suddenly felt heavy and knotted up and his hands felt like they were prickling. He just wanted to reach out and touch you.
“Y/N, I’ve missed you.” He finally said. But you barely heard it over the obnoxiously loud pounding of your heart.
“I missed you too.” You whispered breathlessly as you looked him over. A smile came to your lips as you admired him from up close. You chuckled and shook your head because his hair was gone! And he looked great. So well rested, stronger, taller, and more youthful somehow.
“Can I hug you?” He asked and at his question you hurried into his arms, not bothering with a response. 
As soon as you touched everything felt better. The fires in your hearts were burning again because the love had never run out. If anything it got stronger with the distance somehow. But things were not as they used to be. He had a girlfriend of nearly a year now and you had just started dating someone just a couple months prior. You had been resigned to the fact that for your circumstance, love just wasn’t enough so you both moved on. The embrace was long, you were taking your time in his arms and he was taking in your scent. How he missed the sweet and inviting smell that wafted around you like a cloud. It seemed like it had been too soon when you started pulling back from his hold, but he willed himself to loosen his grip to give you the space to depart from him.
“Your hair!” You smiled brightly and he chuckled.
“I know…After the tour ended it just felt like the end of an era, you know? Time for a big change.” He smiled through his explanation and you nodded in understanding.
“Yeah, I get that. I love it! It looks great!” You complimented as you looked him over once more.
“Yeah?” He asked timidly and you nodded quickly. He knew he didn’t need your approval, but having it made him feel even better about his decision.
“How long are you in town?” You asked, your hands slid down his arms from around his neck and landed in his. Feeling your soft and warm skin meeting his own had his mind going fuzzy. He could feel his heart reaching out to you with how hard it pounded.
“I uh- I leave tomorrow. I just had a quick thing I needed to take care of. Was only here a few days.” He said and you felt a lump forming in your throat. Gone so soon…a tease of fate.
“Oh.” You responded and he nodded, a sad smile came over his face.
“Yeah.” He squeezed your hands a bit harder, “Ummm, I’m at the Roosevelt. In the Marylin Monroe suite. Maybe we can grab dinner tonight, around 8?” He asked hopefully and you frowned. The universe was heartless and cruel, it was confirmed.
“I actually can’t tonight, Harry. I have plans with my…” you trailed off before shifting your gaze down to the buttons of his shirt. They were all done up now, unlike before, when he barely bothered after the third one up.
“Someone you’re seeing?” He asked and you nodded, not able to look at him as you confirmed.
“Sorry.” You said, finally looking back into his eyes.
“I’m not- I mean, it’s alright. That you’re, you know, putting yourself out there.” He put on a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Yeah?” You asked and he nodded. You were holding onto each other for dear life, “I’m happy I ran into you, though. I missed you. Been thinking about you lately as well.” You said again through a small smile.
“I’m really happy I got to see you too.” He confirmed through his own smile; it was definitely genuine this time.
“Well, I should get going and let you get to the studio.” You said and he nodded.
“Right. C’mere.” He said pulling you back in for a hug. This time you inhaled his own warm, musky, and familiar scent as his warmth settled into your own body. “Take good care of yourself.” He mumbled to you before kissing the side of your head.
“You too, H.” You hummed before you let go and you continued down the hall. You stopped and turned back to see that he was still standing there, watching you leave and you smiled, planting a kiss to your palm and pretending like you threw it at him and he smiled brightly as he pretended he caught it and pressed his palm to his heart and you waved before you left the building.
************
“You seem distracted.” Caitlyn, your best friend, pointed out as she glanced over from her desk to you, sitting across from her, just staring out the window behind her.
“I know, I’m sorry…I don’t think I’ll be much help for brainstorming right now.” You said and Caitlyn frowned.
“What happened?”
“I was doing Seb the favor of dropping off a demo of a new song to his producer and on my way out I ummm…H-harry was there.” You said and Caitlyn’s eyes went wide.
“What the hell? I thought he was in London!” She gasped.
“He will be tomorrow. S’his last night.” You explained.
“Are you alright?” She asked you right away.
“I think so…he invited me to dinner at his hotel, but I have plans with Seb tonight so I can’t.”
“Well maybe it’s for the best, friend. I mean…I know how it was with you guys and like, I know you’re both good people, but maybe it wouldn’t be the wisest thing to have dinner with him at his hotel. Alone.” Caitlyn reasoned and you nodded.
“Yeah, I think you’re right…I mean, besides, he has a girlfriend too so best not to do something platonic that could seem sketchy."
“Exactly.” Caitlyn concurred. “Well, are you feeling OK? Did it bring anything up for you?”
“Just a little sadness… nostalgia? I mean, we put in so much work, you know? I swear we were endgame.” You said quietly with some disappointment.
“Yeah…did he seem happy?”
“I guess? I didn’t ask really. I don’t want to know…” you sighed, “Buzzed his head though.” You smiled and Caitlyn gasped audibly.
“No way!” She laughed in disbelief.
“Yeah! It’s a different look, but he looks really good. It suits him more than I would expect.” You chuckled and then fell silent for a few seconds.
“Y/N, do you still…have feelings for him?” Caitlyn asked carefully and you sighed.
“Think I’ll always have feelings for him…” you said lowly. “Like, it’s Harry!” You said and Caitlyn pouted and nodded in understanding. “It was definitely nice to see him though, even if it was fast.”
“Well maybe it’s good that it was a brief run in. Didn’t have to linger and talk about things that would make you both even more sad.” Caitlyn suggested.
“Maybe I need to be more sad…like I’ve been in a bit of a slump writing-wise…” you said.
“Use this sad, Y/N. The nostalgia, the not knowing, the wondering, you really don’t need more than that.” Caitlyn said and you sighed, “And don’t google him. Or his girlfriend.” She warned and you cackled.
“Of course not! I’m not you.” you quipped with a teasing grin.
“Look, cyberstalking is a necessary evil sometimes.”
“I can’t agree with that statement.” You chuckled.
“Just because you suck at it…” Caitlin sassed.
“I don’t think internet stalking is a skill to be proud of, Cait.” You giggled.
“Look, all I know is that one day, my skills will come in handy.” She said simply and you knocked your head back as you laughed at your best friend’s nonsense.
*************
Harry had not been able to stop thinking about you since the afternoon. He had made a quick detour to LA to meet with some of his producers. He was planning to take a bit of a longer break to focus on other projects and passions and just live for himself a little bit. He was just outlining a plan for his next album since he had already renewed his contract.
In truth, he was glad that he had been able to tour when he did because you had just ended things. He just went right into entertain mode and got so much out of his system. But being back on the road, meeting new people, putting himself back out there, it helped a lot. And then the one thing he thought wasn’t possible happened. He met someone else and he moved on. He felt that he had moved into it quite fast as they’d only been friends for a month or so, but they’d been together almost a year now and it was going well. Was he happy? He was. Wasn’t he?
Obviously, he knew he’d eventually see you but he wasn’t ready for it now. It wasn’t the best time because while he’d moved on, you still had an effect on him. He still dreamt of you sometimes. He still felt butterflies in his stomach when he thought of you, even now when he remembered how you had hugged him. He loved the way your fingers felt as you skimmed them down his arms before you could hold his hands just for a moment. You looked so good too…you’d always opted for shorter hair, to the shoulders or a bit less, but it was longer now, it suited you. Your eyes were bright and your smile just as warm and inviting as it had always been. He would be lying if he said that his heart didn’t skip a beat when he saw you. But being in your presence like that, it suddenly felt like no time had passed at all. 
He felt kind of stupid for asking you to dinner…in hindsight it was good that you were busy. To be alone with you while his heart and tummy were doing all these weird and fluttery things that they did every time he was around you, that couldn’t be a great idea.
The hardest thing to get over was that he loved how he felt around you, it was magical. Your energies matched so well. What you had together had was unmatched, there wasn’t anyone who had brought that same feeling to him before or now. You cared for him in ways that made him feel seen and understood as a person, the whole of him, good and bad…he had no idea how you did it, but it just came so naturally from you. Your ability to relate and communicate and accept other people as they were was innate and he missed that about you. He missed how easy it was to receive the kind of love and care that you gave and that he needed. Not that he wasn’t feeling cared for now, he definitely was, but it wasn’t the same as with you of course…no one was you. He snapped out of his thoughts when his phone started ringing loudly, cutting off the music he was running to.
“Hey man, what’s up?” He greeted Jeffrey who was on the other line.
“Hey H, how’d the meeting go?”
“Good. We set a schedule for the next couple of things so that’s squared away.”
“Excellent.” Jeffrey hummed, “Look man, I know you’re supposed to be taking off tomorrow but someone reached out to me from A24 about a possible Bowie bio pic. They’re really interested in talking to you about it.”
“I don’t know, Jeff…”
“I told them you might not be interested, but they were really insistent that you’d be great for the role and just wanted to pick your brain a bit. You definitely don’t have to commit to anything yet, they just want to talk to you about it.” He said and he hummed pensively.
“When’s the meeting?”
“They said Thursday of next week. They have this like vision board and a script they want to have you look over and whatnot.”
“Can it be sooner?”
“Nope. The director is on some remote site for another project now and will be back in town on Thursday.” Harry sighed upon hearing this.
“Fuck…fine. I’ll wait it out then. Can you get me another room then? I still have to check out of here tomorrow.”
“Yeah man, I’ll take care of it now and send the details over, alright?”
“Sounds good. Talk soon.”
“Yep, love you man. Bye.”
“Love ya’. Bye.” Harry said and then hung up.
Honestly, Harry had no interest in doing this film, he was certain they could get someone else, someone far better in his opinion. And he’d definitely watch it, but right now he had every interest in staying longer and getting to see you again. As reckless as it might be to see you with all of these feelings brewing in him, it was a need. It brought him back to old times, where even when you’d be busy, you’d do reckless things like stay extra days in a country just to be able to cross paths while you both worked. Or fly from one end of the US to the other just to have dinner…it was kind of an awful habit to just do things like that on a whim, but he felt that he could handle this. After all, old habits die hard and indulging in something that reminded him of how in love he was, despite the struggles, it was worth remembering.
***********
All throughout dinner so far you had been thinking of Harry. How maybe you should’ve made an alternate plan to see him after dinner. Like maybe grab coffee, or a glass of wine, perhaps visit your favorite ice cream shop…but you halted yourself when it got to the ice cream because that would be far too special for just a catch up. That’s the place you realized you were in love with him and surely the resurgence of those feelings would be strong, to say the least. 
“What’s going on, babe?” Sebastian asked you and you huffed.
“Just had a weird day.” You explained as you played with your food a bit more, hoping that your appetite would increase.
“Why’s that?”
“I ummm… I saw Harry.” You decided to just tell him straight up.
Sebastian had been someone you’d known for a while, ever since you were starting out. You would semi-frequently run into each other at open mic nights, karaoke bars, talent shows, scouting shows. You weren’t close friends or anything deep, you just had drinks with the other few people who were nice and chill and struggling to get their big break. Luckily, yours came quite swiftly and then you were out of that scene. He’d never gotten your number, but when you made it and your first song went #1 he did send you a fan letter, as he had no other way to reach you. And he was so happy for you and proud of you, and you reached out. That’s when you learned he was in talks with a label then too. He gave you his number and you started catching up a bit and then Harry happened and you friend zoned him (according to him, you had never really been interested like that). Once you got with Harry you were MIA for a bit, you just didn’t know who you could trust at the start since Harry was far more famous and super private about everything, understandably so. 
But then, Harry met all your friends, Seb included, and he saw how you were with Harry and he let go of whatever hope he had that you two could be together. He had shared that with you a bit after you’d gotten together. He just couldn’t believe that after dating someone as big as Harry you’d give him a chance. But in all fairness, anyone who had experienced you and Harry together could tell you how palpable your love was. How intense and dedicated you were to each other for the near five years you spent together. Lots of conversations started with a “When you guys get married…” and you wouldn’t bat an eye. Of course you wanted to get married and have a life together. All this to say that Sebastian knew what it meant or could mean for you to see Harry again. He had been there for all of it and now he was a bit scared…
“Today?” He asked and you nodded.
“Well, it was more of a running into type of situation than a deliberate seeing each other.” You explained.
“I see. Where?”
“At the studio. I was on my way out as he was coming in for something.”
“Are you okay?”
“I think so…I’m just…I don’t know, it brought up a lot of shit, you know?”
“I can imagine.”
“So that’s why I’m a bit…weird. I just…I don’t know. Like I saw him and I missed him, you know?”
“And does he miss you?”
“He said he does.” You shrugged, “I mean, I told him about you, so it wasn’t like that.” You emphasized, “But yeah, I just wasn’t expecting that.” He mumbled.
“I’m sorry.” He said reaching his hand out for yours and you took it as you glanced down to watch your hands connect.
“It’s fine.” 
“How long is he in town?”
“He leaves tomorrow morning. Asked me to dinner, that’s when I brought you up and said we had plans.” You smiled at him and he smirked.
“Oh wow…I mean, I would’ve understood if you ditched me for thee Harry Styles. But I appreciate you choosing to keep our plans.” He said with a slightly smug and victorious grin.
“Of course, babe.” You assured him with a smile.
But that didn’t mean that mentally you weren’t sitting across from Harry at the Roosevelt having an equally nice glass of wine and catching up over what the last couple years apart had been like for you.
*************
Harry very seldom used social media, especially for celebrity gossip purposes, but he found himself hunched over the table in his bedroom eating dinner alone while typing up your name in the Instagram search bar and going to the tags. Much like his, your instagram was now for professional use, so he knew there wouldn’t be anything personal to find there so he didn’t bother with your profile, hashtags were where it was at. And as soon as the page loaded, an avalanche of images came up. He went to the first one and it was a fan video, secretly taken of course, of you over dinner with your boyfriend. Sebastian?
“You’re dating Sebastian? That Hozier rip off? Really?!” He muttered to himself bitterly.
He watched the clip replay a few times.You two were clearly talking about something a bit serious as you weren’t smiling at first. But then he reached for your hand and you took it and smiled. He selfishly hoped you were talking about him just then… 
of course, he would hate it if someone took videos of him like that at a private dinner, but he now understood why people did it. It was better than just seeing it with your own two eyes. This was forever. He could sit there all night and watch as your lips slowly turned up towards the end and smiled at him. He could watch your hand reaching out to touch Sebastian’s. He could sit there and theorize about where this conversation was going…it could just be a serious topic of conversation, an amicable break up, some good news… Crumbs. That’s all these things were, just crumbs. He scrolled a bit and got to some other photos and videos of Sebastian at your shows, you at his shows, out and about…it was making his stomach twist up with jealousy and regret. 
Harry didn’t find that he got jealous much anymore, he felt more secure in himself and in his relationships, he had matured, a lot of things went into that. But a part of his heart would always belong to you and seeing you sharing your affection with someone else, it made him sick to his stomach. He scrolled down further, hoping to see something about you two but there was only disappointment. 
When you were together he was so fucking paranoid that the public would ruin what you had that there was no PDA, everything was so clandestine…you’d been papped alone a few times walking around together, at events, and a few other mundane situations but not like what you had with Sebastian over the last couple months. There were no pictures of you two holding hands, or smiling at each other the way you often did when you were alone or with trusted friends and family. There were no videos of you kissing in the corner of a dark party or side stage at a show…and whatever videos you had with each other…well, those had to go in case any of you ever got hacked or something. He did have a few pictures, but they were in his albums at home and probably scanned into a USB or something similar and it was just lying around collecting dust somewhere. He tried searching you two up and yeah, nothing. Just the couple things he knew of.
“Fucking ridiculous…” he mumbled with his mouth full as he went back to stalking you and Sebastian just a little bit longer. Sebastian had you all over his page; sure he was verified but he was still a smaller artist when compared to him or you, so he could afford to show a bit of his private life without people losing their heads over it.
Harry stopped when he started getting sad and also when a text from Tay came in responding to his news of his change of travel plans. Then he felt bad for lying, for staying longer than he needed to. But the sooner he went back home, the sooner he could forget all about you and what was and immerse himself in the world he lived in now. But then, the sooner he left the sooner he’d be without you close by. The sooner he’d be breathing someone else’s air…sure, there were millions of people in LA, but knowing that you were one of them did things to him.
…. A FEW DAYS LATER ….
If there was one thing you hated to do that Caitlyn loved to do, it was work out. You’d always been a bit lazy for it and did the bare minimum you could get away with. which was still excessive in your opinion, especially when you’d go with Caitlyn. One of her friends, Melissa, had invited the two of you to her friend’s new pilates studio and well, that was one of your hard limits. Barre and Pilates both were! Like what kind of sick fuck can bend that way? Is what you constantly thought to yourself as you’d literally have to have someone hold your body in certain positions to complete the routine.
Since Melissa knew Ilse, the owner of the studio, you were working out in a private studio, which you were eternally grateful for just to spare you from embarrassment at the very least. The last thing you wanted was to become an internet meme because you somehow got tangled up in a pilates machine.
“Alright, great form ladies and just hold a few more seconds…” Ilse hummed to you all. She was sweet to encourage you as if she weren’t currently holding you in position.
“What is going on out there? It’s getting loud.” Melissa pointed out, which made Ilse, turn as well.
“I’m going to go check it out.” She said releasing you from your position before rushing out of the smaller studio.
“Thank fuck.” You sighed as you just left your legs in the suspenders you’d been in for that position Ilse had you in.
“How you holding up?” Caitlyn asked with a grin.
“This is…terrible.” You confessed and you all laughed a bit. “Who wants to leave and feel like a wet noodle for three days after?” You whined.
“It feels great! I love the soreness.” Melissa said and you scoffed.
“You’re insane.” You said to Melissa.
“I am. Clinically.” She agreed and you laughed again at her joke. You was just laying there, legs still suspended in the air, at least this way you were getting good circulation. But mostly because you were afraid to move with how sore you already felt after just a half an hour of pilates. Then Ilse came back in capturing their attention.
“Harry Styles is here.” She said and this made Caitlyn turn to you quickly. You then attempted to sit up properly, “He’s gonna do his thing in here too so that no one bugs him.” she explained. You were still fighting to get up from your laying position with your legs suspended above you. Finally you got your foot out of the fucking loop and were trying to get the other one out before he came in, “Y/N, be careful.” Ilse warned as she started to make her way over to help. But she paused when the door opened behind her and in came Harry in a gray, long sleeve shirt and some tiny, navy blue shorts. You swallow thickly and pulled harder on the cable.
“Ilse, thank you so much for letting me join-” A small shriek interrupted Harry as he came into the private studio. They all saw you fall out of the machine and they hurried over and huddled above you. And there you were on the ground, one of your feet still stuck in the loop of the cable, leaving it extended high above the rest of your body. How humiliating… Your eyes met his and you saw as he rolled his lips together to prevent his laughter from spilling out. You’d always had an aversion to exercising as he recalled.
“Oh my god! Are you OK?!” Ilse asked you. And then you were bursting into laughter, causing Ilse’s shoulders to lose their tension. 
When your eyes met his again as you laughed he sputtered on his own laughter before it just spilled out of him and then your friends laughed along at your mishap as well. Harry was quick to step up and help you get your foot free and then Ilse helped you up.
“Thank you.” You said to Ilse and Harry with a warm face and bashful smile.
“Of course. Do you need ice or something?” Ilse asked and you shook her head.
“I’m fine. I’ll just sit the rest out. Do some free weights.”
“Real convenient, missy.” Caitlyn mumbled and you grinned. Harry soon greeted Caitlyn and then properly greeted Melissa.
“So how do you guys know each other?” She asked the three of you.
“Just industry friends.” You said quickly with a decisive nod and Harry glanced at you. Your eyes averted to Cailtyn’s who just looked to Harry after a few seconds.
“Cool, well let’s keep going then.” Ilse suggested. Since you had decided to just do some free wights across the room Harry took your spot as Ilse guided them through the rest of the routine. 
Harry was stealing glances. Not that you weren’t, but you were far more subtle about it. He couldn’t help it though. He knew her body just as well as he knew his own. And just watching you move was bringing back so many memories. He’s the one that discovered you had a birthmark right near the crook of your inner thigh. He’s the person who discovered that you had a group of freckles and beauty marks on your mid back that almost resembled the entire Orion constellation. He’s the person who knew that you hated that one of your boobs was “much smaller” than the other. He thought they were pretty symmetrical, but whatever. He knew every scar you had. He knew each tattoo, he’d been there for many of them. He knew that there was this one eyelash you had that always grew in a little crooked and he’d always help you pluck it out after you’d beg and beg because it ruined your mascara. He knew the shape you liked to pluck your eyebrows in. He knew the shape of your lips and the shade of your eyes. He knew everything there was to know about you. 
So yeah, he was looking and remembering all the little things about you that made you the beautiful, smart, talented, and unique person that you were. He hadn’t allowed himself to love and obsess over anyone like that ever again, it took too much out of him. Just you. 
“I thought you were supposed to leave a few days ago?” Caitlyn said. And well, if Caitlyn knew this, that meant you had talked about her to him.
“Something came up. Have another meeting on Thursday. S’for a film, the director isn’t back in town until then.” He elaborated.
“Ooh what film?”
“A possible Bowie biopic.” He said and she looked impressed.
“Nice. Are you interested in the project?” She asked just as you bent over to grab your water bottle and Harry got a little lost for a moment. 
He barely heard a word Caitlyn had said, he just watched you shamelessly. God, he missed that perfect, little body of yours. Seeing as Caitlyn was facing the mirror while she talked to him, she could see your reflection and obviously, what Harry was staring at. She loved you and Harry together, but the logistics were kind of fucked and you were stretching yourselves so thin, it was unhealthy. You hadn’t ended things because you weren’t in love; in fact, you were so in love that you couldn’t do that to each other anymore. You had tried to wait it out, but it was exhausting you two to degrees that just was a bit irresponsible for some of the biggest stars on the planet, so you went your own ways.
“She’s happy, you know?” Caitlyn said quietly and Harry’s eyes flickered away from you to hers. He sighed and nodded.
“I know.” He said, “With Sebastian?”
“She told you it was him?” Caitlyn asked. Harry had always been a little wary around Sebastian because it was fairly obvious to him that he had a thing for you. He never tried anything and was always respectful, but just that jealousy he felt over you was palpable. And it would make Harry be on high alert when you guys was around him.
“No. I had to…fucking look it up.” He admitted with slight irritation. Caitlyn snorted quietly on a laugh causing him to shoot her a glare. “Shut up.” He mumbled with a bashful smile as he smacked her with his towel on the leg.
“Ew! Unsanitary!” She scoffed through her sniggers.
“Fuck you, I haven’t even used it yet.” He chuckled. When their little fit died down she got serious again.
“You seem happy too.” 
“I…I am.” He nodded once, “But it’s her. She’s…” he trailed off as he glanced at you again, “She was it for me, you know?” He said with some sadness. “I don’t know…I just…wasn’t prepared to see her yet.” 
“That’s what she said too. Maybe it’ll always be that way? Like you guys had something extraordinary. It was special, some real soul mate shit, you know? Of course it’s going to be hard to get over. I literally thought that was all BS until I saw how you guys were together.” She said and he smiled.
“Yeah.” He agreed.
“What do you want?”
“To just be around her.” He said and she hummed.
“Then be friends.” Caitlyn suggested and he immediately shook his head.
“I couldn’t…like I’m happy for her, but I don’t want to see it in my face. And I’m sure she feels the same about that. Seeing each other have everything we had and more? No way.”
“Then…I don’t know, Harry.”
“Can you just ask her i-if we could grab a coffee or talk or something?”
“Why don’t you ask her?”
“Because she’ll say no.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I do.” He said, “What if she thinks I’m just trying to…to make her doubt or something?”
“She knows you’d never hurt her and you know she’d never hurt you.”
“I know, but what if…”
“What if you guys do something stupid like cheat?” Caitlin asked bluntly and he nodded. “Well then that’s up to you guys.” she said simply, “I did tell her it was probably good that she couldn’t have dinner with you the other night…I could see something happen during a moment of weakness. All that attraction and love you guys still have for each other…I mean, I can’t see either of you walking away without someone getting hurt if you’re not overly cautious. Maybe it’s a temptation or maybe it’s what needs to happen to open that door again…I don’t know, H. But if you do want to see her again just be careful with your hearts and those of the others you’re involved with now.” She admonished and he nodded.
“You’re right.” He said and glanced down at his knees instead of at you. “I don’t want to fuck anything up for her.”
“And what about you?”
“I’m already fucked.” He chuckled breathily with sadness in his eyes.
************
When their session was over you all said their goodbyes. Harry headed back into the locker rooms to have a shower though, so he didn’t walk out with you three. You had gone to have some breakfast at Melissa’s house and were in the middle of eating when your phone pinged. When you picked it up from the table you saw “Harry” on the text notification and you locked it and set it down with a pounding heart. Caitlyn looked to you with a knowing glance and you sighed and went back to your food. Melissa was cool, she was an influencer who was dabbling in TV, which is how she met Caitlyn. But you weren’t really personal friends with her yet so you didn’t feel like bringing Harry up right now. You could talk to Caitlyn about it on your way home.
As soon as you were in the car you looked at his text and smiled at the screen. Harry was sweet, a bit of an over-thinker, but you loved that about him. He was thoughtful of how he wanted to be perceived and how he came across.
“Did he ask to see you?” Caitlyn asked and you nodded and locked your phone before taking off. You sat in silence for just a few minutes before Caitlyn turned to you. “So what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.” You confessed. “If I see him…alone…” you sighed, “s’just that after seeing him I realized I still feel too much for him.” You explained. “I don’t want to fuck things up with Seb or hurt him in any way.  Like you know that I care about him. So much. But this is Harry, you know? Do you think Seb’ll understand if I want to meet up with Harry?” You asked and Caitlyn sighed.
“Girl, I don’t know…but after speaking a bit with Harry I don’t know if it’s a good idea.” She said and you frowned.
“What did he say?” You couldn’t help but ask.
“He’s just…hanging on by a thread I think.” She said and you frowned. “Like you’re both in relationships, good ones, that seem to make you guys happy. And I mean…you guys are each other’s weakness, you know? And I care about you both so much and I don’t want you to accidentally do something that you’ll regret and hate yourselves for. Like I get it, you miss each other, but would tempting fate fix things or make them worse?” She asked and you sighed.
“You’re right. You’re so right.” You agreed.
“He knows you’re with Sebastian.” Caitlyn said and you turned to her for a moment with confusion.
“How?”
“He was looking you up online or something is what he said.” Upon hearing that you giggled and Caitlyn started to chuckle as well. Before you knew it, you were both laughing hard at how crazy that was. Him scouring the internet to find information about you? “If Harry internet lurks you can too. You’re missing out…” Caitlyn said after your laughing spell had died down.
“Yeah, no thanks. I have some dignity.” You grinned and Caitlyn rolled her eyes. 
**************
Harry waited and waited. And waited well into the night for Y/N to respond to his text. He had no idea if you’d even read it. Maybe you had changed your number and he’d texted someone else by mistake. He was getting antsy, he was only in town for four more days. So he did a double text, just to verify that it was still your number and when no response came after another 10 minutes he just settled against his pillows and pulled out the book he had brought along with him. He wasn’t even hungry anymore after that disappointment.
**************
Sebastian had come over to your house for dinner at the last minute and now you were just washing up your dishes from that when he came into the kitchen glowering at you.
“What the matter?” You asked with some concern and he brought your phone up to your face so that you could see what had him so upset. You pouted a bit when you read Harry’s second text, he was just asking if it was still your number. You felt bad for leaving him on read now.
“You saw him again today and he asked you out again?” Sebastian asked with irritation. He had every right to be irritated without context, but the explanation would easily appease his anger.
“I didn’t plan to see him. Me and the girls were at pilates and he showed up at that studio. I have no control over where he goes! What was I supposed to do? Leave?” You asked him and he sighed, “The trainer had him come work out in the studio with us because people were flocking him. But when he came over I even left to do strength training instead. Ask Caitlyn! I didn’t even talk to him!” You said quickly as he searched your eyes. The fear and panic in them made him doubt you. “He just wants to catch up.” You said as he set your phone down on the counter with a sigh.
“I want to believe you but-”
“Then believe me, Sebastian!” You said with exasperation as you shut the water off and took off the rubber gloves you were wearing. “The evidence is there on my phone. I haven’t even answered him!” You pointed out and he sighed.
“Why is he so determined of doing this? Doesn’t he have a girlfriend to hang out with?” 
“It’s just…a lot seeing each other after so long. He probably just wants to reconnect and be friends? Maybe if I just talk to him-”
“I don’t want you talking to him, Y/N.” Sebastian said and you frowned. “I don’t trust him and I don’t like how pushy he’s being about this.”
“He’s not being pushy…” you sighed.
“He is! You left him on read and he doesn’t take the fucking hint.” Sebastian argued.
“Well maybe if I just respond and explain that you’re not comfortable with us meeting up alone then he’ll-”
“Oh, don’t put this on me.” Sebastian cut you off.
“Well you’re the one who’s upset over this, Seb. I honestly wasn’t even going to respond to him!”
“If you’re not going to respond just delete the message and block the number.” He insisted, handing your phone over. You frowned as you glanced down at it in your hands and then up at him.
“No, Seb. I’m not blocking him for no real reason!” You pushed back.
“Your boyfriend being upset over it is a real reason, Y/N. He wants you back! Why can’t you see that?” He groaned in frustration.
“No, he doesn’t. He just wants to talk and catch up!” You countered.
“Well I don’t care what he wants, Y/N. I don’t want you to see him. I forbid it!” He put his foot down and you scoffed. 
“You forbid it? What the fuck? Who are you to tell me who I can and can’t see in my free time, Seb? I think I’ve respected you and our relationship by leaving it and not answering him. I even told you when I first saw him-”
“Only because I asked! And now again, you see him and don’t say anything about it until I see these texts!”
“One sided texts!” You added and he shook his head.
“I waited my turn and I chose to be with you, Y/N. And right now you need to choose me back.” He said and you sighed as you started growing anxious and frustrated.
“I’m with you, Seb! I already chose you! There’s nothing for me to choose right now! You’re the one putting Harry in the middle of us right now.” You argued.
“You’re honestly telling me that if he says he wants you back you wouldn’t hesitate to choose me over him? You’d just tell him to fuck off?” He asked and you frowned.
“That’s… that’s a silly thing to think. Why are you even arguing hypotheticals, Seb? This will get us nowhere-”
“Tell me, now. Who would you choose, Y/N?” He insisted more seriously and you shook your head.
“I’m not playing this stupid game with you, Seb.” You said as you crossed your arms. Holding your position.
“You refusing to make a choice over this speaks fucking volumes, Y/N.” He said with disappointment before he stormed out of the kitchen. You took a second to let your mind try and catch up with how all of this went south so quickly. Once you were up to speed you hurried over to the front door where he was sliding his feet into his shoes.
“Where are you going?” You asked him with welled up eyes and he refused to answer you. “Sebastian!” You raised your voice.
“I’m done.” He seethed, finally responding to you, “I’m done playing second fiddle to him, Y/N.” He said pointedly before leaving your place with a loud thud of the door slamming. 
You groaned into your hands and your tears started rolling down your cheeks. You were so fucking angry at him and at Harry…it was making you boil over as you returnedd to the kitchen and grabbed your phone and called him. He didn’t pick up, you tried again after a few moments and it went straight to voicemail. You were so angry at him you almost threw your phone at the wall. But before you could, you decided to make another call, this one to Harry.
“Y/N?” He answered almost right away and before you could berate him for his texts you started to sniffle, “Hey? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” He asked softly. His voice was drenched with concern.
“Seb saw your texts and I think he just broke up with me.” You whimpered as more tears started to fall. You started to sob a bit harder and just dropped yourself on the couch. Harry felt awful…he hadn’t meant to stir up trouble for you, he just missed you.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t think I said anything bad or suspicious.” He apologized.
“You didn’t. He just thinks you’re…trying to get me back. He asked me to block you and I said no because that’s stupid. We’re fucking grown ups, you know?”
“Yeah.” He hummed as he listened.
“And he…he asked me if you wanted to get back together with me, if I would I choose him over you.” You said and he bit his lip.
“What’d you say?”
“I didn’t say anything! I told him he was being ridiculous for bring up hypotheticals like that. Like what would we gain from that, you know? And he got more angry and said that not choosing was basically choosing…”
“I see how he came to that conclusion. I mean…it makes it seem like…he wouldn’t like the choice you’d make.” He explained.
“Well it’s not like that! I just…I don’t know, Harry.” You said before gasping for air as you started to cry harder. Harry wished he could be there to hold you and tell you everything would be fine. He’d just let you get it out for a little bit.
“I’m really sorry for stirring up trouble for you, love.” Harry apologized with full sincerity. 
“It’s alright.” You whispered as your crying diminished.
“It’s not…I should’ve taken the fucking hint. I just miss you and want to spend time with you before I go. I was upset that you didn’t answer me after this morning. I should’ve just left it alone and-”
“I miss you too, H.” You cut him off. You sniffled as you just stared up at the ceiling. “Fucking ridiculous amounts.” You added and he smiled.
“Me too.” He agreed.
“I’m sorry for not responding to you. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. S’just that after talking to Caitlyn about it I just got a little…scared I guess. Like…what if we like have a moment of weakness and do something fucked up and-”
“Love, no.” he responded even if he had the same fear as her.
“Is is that crazy to think about? We obviously still share a lot of feelings for each other and I would hate to…to mess anything up for you if I…if I’m not strong enough.” You explained.
“If anyone’s not strong enough here it’s me.” He said and you smiled, “God…like…I don’t know if wanting to see you is wrong or not and I don’t care. All I know is that you mean a lot to me and I’ve missed you.”
“Enough to lurk me on the internet?” You asked with a smile and he sighed.
“Fucking Caitlyn…” he chuckled and you laughed. “So pathetic.” Muttered lowly.
“S’not…” you appeased him.
“So you’ve done it too?” He asked hopefully.
“No way.” You said quickly and he chuckled, “It’s not because I’m not curious I just…I don’t want t-to see you with her.” You admitted and a silence came over you two for several moments as the information settled. “And well, it’s not even about her really, it’s just…you I guess.” You confessed, “It’s such an ugly feeling.” You explained with a frown, “It makes my stomach hurt and it makes me annoyed and my chest feels heavy and like-”
“You get jealous.” He said and you sighed. You’d never been of the jealous kind. Specially not with Harry, you knew that even God would have to kill one of you to keep you apart. There was no chance of straying from each other. So this feeling festering inside of you was absolutely foreign to you and you never wanted it again. You’d seen a photo of them briefly on some gossip website when a friend had sent a link about some crazy rumor they’d written about you. It was a suggestion for another article read at the bottom of the article about you. The photo above the title was of them two, you only saw it quickly before you closed out of the tab, never wanting to see it again. But god, it was truly such an ugly feeling. You literally felt it growing out of your heart and infecting your…you’d been moody the rest of that day; it was awful.
“Yeah, I guess I do…feel jealous.” You admitted and he bit his lip for a second.
“While I was lurking instagram the other day? I saw a video of you and Sebastian kissing at some concert of his. At the side of the stage?” He said.
“Yeah?” You asked and he sighed.
“Yep. I-it made me so…mad. Like a helpless kind of mad. And then sad.” He said and you frowned, “It made me sad because we didn’t have that. I hate that I kept you so hidden…I should’ve been less afraid of the public, of the fans, of all the external bullshit that fucks with my head. I wish people could’ve see how happy we were. Wish they could’ve see how much we love each other.” He said and you felt your stomach flip when he said that. He didn’t say “how much we loved each other”, he said “love”, present tense, as in right now. It felt good to hear but it also scared you because you realized that you too were hanging on by a thread.
“You know, I kinda love that it’s just between us. Like back then it was tough to hide like that, but now I appreciate it more. I felt…safe and protected and normal when we were together, you know?”
“Yeah, that’s true.” He hummed. “Do you ever think about us?” He asked meekly.
“Of course I do. A lot of the time…” you said with a smile. “Like early last year, Seb opened for someone at the Forum and he like…fell in love with it.”
“Rightfully so, s’the perfect venue.” He said and you hummed.
“Literally. So he bought us club passes and we went to see John Mayer like a few months later and we had the same exact seats that we had for Elton John. Remember?”
“Oh, god…do I…” he laughed and you started to laugh as well. “And Jeffrey had to get them to delete the video of us sneaking into the family bathroom, remember?” He started chuckling.
“Oh, I remember.” You giggled. 
“At least we was fast…”
“We weren’t. We were in there for almost half an hour.” You pointed out.
“Were we?” He asked in shock and you laughed.
“Yeah! You said you wanted to to enjoy it or something like that. And when I said we should go home then you said-”
“And miss Elton John?” He cut her off and you laughed as you nodded.
“Literally, you paused, mid-fuck. Like mid thrust, Harry.” You cackled as he laughed loudly over the line, “As if we weren’t already missing the best bits anyway…” you said and he smiled as the laughter died down. “I’d never done anything in public like that before.” You said, “You tainted me.” You joked.
“Yeah, you tell yourself that. Whatever helps you sleep at night, love.” He chuckled and bit his lip as he recalled how you were biting down on his shirt to contain your sounds. He had no idea what had gotten into him that night, all he recalls is the you were wearing this perfume that was so intoxicating, he just wanted to be buried against your neck. Kissing you, inhaling that sweet and warm scent that made his head spin. He was touching you in some way the whole fucking time until he sneakily brought his fingers up your skirt and touched you over her underwear slowly until you were drenched for him. He shifted a bit when he felt his cock hardening up in his sweats at the memory of what happened afterwards in that bathroom.
“OK, thanks…just a funny little story to lighten up the mood.” You said and he hummed.
“I want to see you.” He said decidedly and you bit your lip.
“I don’t know if we should, H.”
“Right now. Just FaceTime.” He said and you shot up.
“Harry, no…I’m all snotty and shit-”
“Well if we’re not going to see each other in person before I go at least like this. Please, love.” He said and you sighed as you wiped your eyes a bit before the request to FaceTime came in and you accepted and seconds later there you were. Face to face. You stayed quiet for a few moments, just looking at each other, the air was tense with all of the thoughts and feeling being left unsaid.
“I do want to see you.” You said, finally breaking the silence and he hummed. He was in bed, his free arm was pulled back, supporting his head and he was clearly topless from what you could see. 
“Yeah?” He smiled.
“Of course. I just…feel like it’s asking for trouble.”
“Why?” He chuckled.
“Because! I mean, look at you just now.” You said with a giggle and he glanced down a bit and smirked.
“How do you think I felt today at the gym?”
“I was working out!”
“And I’m just laying in bed.” He responded simply. 
“This is bad, H.”
“What is?” He chuckled.
“The way I’m…looking at you and thinking about you.” You said softly.
“And what way is that?” He asked and you shook her head bashfully as he smiled a bit, “It’s not like I’m not thinking the same things about you…” He responded and you bit your lip nervously. “Earlier today I was remembering how I found your birthmark.” He said with a placid smile.
“Didn’t even know it was there…”
“You’re welcome by the way.” He hummed and you rolled her eyes at him playfully. “When did you move out of your flat?” He asked changing the subject. He just assumed as he didn’t recognize your surroundings.
“Last year. Finally could afford a house. S’small for the area, three bedrooms. Very English cottage/craftsman style, original architecture. Obviously, the inside is renovated, but the external structure is in great shape.” You described and he smiled. “It reminded me of the houses in the country we saw when we visited your family together up north? The ones with the brick exteriors.” You said and he nodded and smiled, “It has a lovely front garden…there are tons of windows so the sun shines in nearly all afternoon. And the garage was turned into like a studio apartment and I’m planning to renovate it into a little music studio once I save up enough.”
“That sounds really nice. So where are you at now?” He asked.
“West Hollywood west.” You said and his eyes widened.
“No way. Dude, I am like down the street from you right now.” He chuckled and you smiled.
“Oh! Really?”
“Yeah. I couldn’t extend my stay at the Roosevelt so Jeffrey moved me to the SLS on La Cienega.” He explained, “I could literally jog to you if I wanted.” He chuckled and you smiled and bit your lip for a moment. It was already dark out…so no one would see him…
“Would you really?” You asked and he nodded.
“Yeah, of course! Had to skip my cool down cardio today because there were too many people at the gym.” He said and you thought about it for a moment. 
Harry was ready to jump out of bed and throw some clothes on and run out if you said he could. He just wanted to be around you again. Even talking like this was nice, just getting to see your expressions and watch you form your thoughts and listen to him.
“Maybe you running over here is not a great idea…” you said when you heard a police siren down the street. He tried to mask his disappointment at this but nodded, “I could pick you up?” You suggested instead.
“Uh yeah, that’s cool too.”
“Do you have any plans tomorrow?”
“No, just work out and hanging out in the area.”
“OK, so no strict curfew.” You smiled and he shook his head.
“Nope.”
  “Ok. Ummm, I’m gonna try to call Seb again and let him know.”
“Does he stay with you?” Harry asked.
“No, he actually lives in Pasadena.”
“Ooh…” Harry exclaimed with a scrunch in his face, “That’s a commute just because of the traffic.”
“I know. It’s not really that far, but man he has to take all the shitty freeways.” You said, “I think he probably went home after we argued. But I just want to let him know that I’m having you over just to avoid any issues.” You explained and he nodded. He loved that about you, you’d always been really considerate like that and it made him smile that you were still that way.
“Oh yeah, of course. I should probably do the same.” He said and you smiled.
“OK. I’ll text you my ETA when I’m heading out.”
“Sounds good.” He nodded and then you hung up.
You tried calling Sebastian a couple times before giving up and going to finish the dishes you had started on, maybe he’d call back. You finished up and still no response from Seb. Then you packed up the leftovers and still he had not called you back. You sighed and just called again, killing a bit of time by going around the house, lighting some of the candles you had out. But as it rang out to his voicemail once again you decided to just leave a message.
“Hey babe.” You started out, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings earlier. It’s just that…Harry is really important to me and I miss him, OK? I miss getting to be his friend and he just wants to reconnect a bit, OK? His hotel is like 2 miles away from the house and he’s going to come here for a bit. I’m not sure if you’re on the road home or just went out somewhere nearby, so I’m just letting you know in case you want to come by whenever. I love you, Seb. Bye.” You finished and then hung up. You then texted Caitlyn just to let her know what happened and assured her you’d call the following day to catch her up on everything. By that time it had been about 20 minutes and you texted Harry to let him know you were on your way.
Harry was relieved to hear back from you with your ETA. After it took more than five minutes for you to get back to him he decided to have a quick shower so that he wouldn’t have to do it if he got back too late. He was so nervous, he felt like his heart would beat out of his chest at getting to be with you again. And when it got to two minutes of you arriving he made his way down to the lobby. He was quick as he scurried out and just as he was walking past the valet you pulled up to the curb.
“Uber for Garry?” You called out the passenger window with a playful grin and he laughed as he opened up the door and settled in.
“Hi.” He greeted you, his smile wide.
“Hi.” You responded and then you bit your lip to avoid smiling like Demi Lovato in Camp Rock. You were far too happy, you just needed a second to gather yourself. You were just taking each other in for a moment before someone honked at you and you jumped as the harsh sound startled you both. “Jesus…Sorry.” You mumbled before you started peeling away from the pick up area. Harry was chuckling beside you and you just rolled your eyes at him as he poked a bit of fun.
“How’d it go with Seb.” He asked, changing the subject.
“It didn’t…that’s why I took so long. Tried him a bunch of times while I finished cleaning up after dinner. Gave him a bit to call back and he didn’t so I left him a message. I did tell him that he could drop by whenever just to…see for himself that it’s fine.”
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”
“Yeah…I just don’t get where all this suddenly came from. Like, I’ve been straight up about everything since I saw you last week and he was fine about it.”
“Maybe he’s just jealous.”
“Well yeah, but that doesn’t mean he has to distrust me.” You said and he nodded.
“That’s true. Well look, let’s not worry about it now. We can have a nice time and catch up…” He smiled and you nodded.
“Have you eaten dinner?”
“Nope.”
“Should I stop somewhere? Or there’s food at the house if you want that.” You said and he nodded.
“Yeah, that’s alright.” He smiled and you nodded. “Do you still cook a lot?” He asked and you smiled and nodded.
“Oh yeah, avidly. The kitchen continues to be my happy place.” You confirmed. “Caitlyn is on this vegan kick until next Thanksgiving, so I’ve been trying out a bunch of new stuff that she’s recommended I learn to cook for her.” you explained with a smile, “Seb is losing his mind about it though, all he eats is brown rice, chicken, and fish.” You explained, “Tonight I made like a veggie stir fry type of thing? With zucchinis and other types of squash, carrots, mushrooms, bell peppers, and some beyond ground beef.…”
“That sounds excellent.” he said and you smiled.
“I thought so too! Never thought I’d have to persuade a grown man into eating that many vegetables.” You said of Seb and Harry chuckled.
“I don’t even want to know what that means…” he mumbled jokingly as he glanced out the window and you laughed. 
“Not like that…” you giggled.
“Sure…sure.” Harry hummed as he side eyed you, who just shook you head in response. “Well you don’t have to persuade me. Though I’m not sure if I should just have you persuade me depending on what you’re persuading people with.” He teased and you rolled your eyes.
“I promised to make his favorite meal next time. That was the persuasion.” You clarified and he chuckled.
“I mean, I’ll still take that…do you even remember-”
“Of course! Branzino al Limone. How could I forget?” You asked with a smile as you glanced to him briefly, and he grinned in satisfaction. “Perfected the recipe last time I went to Italy actually.” 
“Why? For me?” He asked smugly.
“Ummm, because it’s good?! Also it was one of the dishes in the cooking course I completed there.” You said and he chuckled.
“Well that’s good.” 
“Yeah.” You smiled. 
You and Harry bonded a lot over food, it was basically one of your biggest love languages in your relationship. You loved learning together and you taught him a lot of the things he now knew. You wanted to ask if he cooked for his girlfriend…he probably did, it was part of his charm, part of the wooing process. He invited his love interest over to his and made you his perfected risotto al pomodoro and then had the other person involved in helping with dessert and while that went in the oven you’d kill some time by…well, you reckoned anyone would know what you filled that time with. It was basically straight out of a romcom. He even did it for you when you started dating. But you were much younger then so it was all the more impressive that a man pulled out all the stops like that.
You then wondered if she cooked for him as well. Did she do things better than you or was he left wanting just a bit more, forced to remember you every time she took a stab at his favorites? Or did they even do that for each other in this relationship? You wanted to know about it, but at the same time you knew that any knowledge of how his relationship worked with someone else wouldn’t really benefit you in any way. As long as he was happy, that was all you needed to know.
“Hey, what’s the matter?” He suddenly asked when you grew quiet.
“Nothing, just ummm, just thinking.” You said as you glanced at him quickly, “We’re nearly there.” You said and he nodded as you turned down to a residential street. The houses there looked to be of an older build, but they were still very beautiful. There was the odd bright white millennial cement block people were obsessed with currently, but other than that, the neighborhood you were in seemed to embrace the older LA architecture for the most part. “S’that one there in the corner.” You pointed to your right and he smiled as he saw your little corner house.
“God it even looks like England…so much green!” He chuckled happily as he glanced at you briefly before looking back as you got closer. 
Yeah, whoever lived there before her absolutely covered the property in plants. The entire front of the property was lined with a hedge that he assumed was his shoulder height or so. And then running diagonally through the front lawn was a little path of steps to get up to the front door, it was lined at each side by some of those little stake lights and blocked off by a little iron gate. You had some free driveway for guests and then another gate to close off the access to the backyard.
“Let me open up the gate,” you said as you unbuckled your seatbelt, “My control is out of batteries and then I bought the wrong-”
“I got it. I want to snoop your lawn.” He said as he unfastened his own seatbelt and you smiled.
“Yeah sure. The gate code’s-”
“Your birthday?” He asked with a knowing smile and you chuckled, “Still your birthday?!” He asked teasingly and you shrugged. “Oh, I’ve missed you…” he hummed quietly, smiling to himself now as he hopped out of the car and walked over to the little keypad at the far end of the gate. “Six digit and pound I assume?” He called out in question.
“Yes!” You shouted and he gave you a thumbs up before entering the numbers. Just a second later the wooden gate started to open inward, allowing you to drive in and he allowed himself to then wander down to the sidewalk where he unlatched the gate to get up to the front door.
It was so pretty out there. There was a a flower garden against the gate on the right side  and thanks to the LA weather they were still in bloom. He could even smell some of the lavender planted there. He followed the path up to the well lit front door and smiled as he saw the beautiful deep teal colored door. There was a big window to some room in the home, possibly the living room, though he couldn’t really make out what it was to because of the thin curtain over it so he just focused back on the door. He just couldn’t get over the color. Then at the foot of the door he spotted a welcome mat reading “Sup. I’m mat.” And Harry immediately burst into laughter and glanced around again to see some wind chimes dangling off of the corner of the drop off of the roof. The grass was well kept and there seemed to be plenty of space to sit out here if you wanted to in the evenings when it cooled down…
“What’s so funny?” You suddenly asked and he turned around to see you coming up the steps.
“Mat.” He said pointing to the welcome mat and you giggled.
“Oh right…$10 if you guess who got me that as a housewarming gift…” you said and he chuckled.
“Oh Caitlyn…I’ve missed her too.” He said and you sniggered. “I really like the color of your door.” He complimented.
“Thank you.” You smiled.
“And the yard is so nice and lush. Love the hedges.”
“Yeah? I’m thinking of getting rid of the hedges.” You shared.
“Oh really?”
“Yeah. Like I like them for privacy but it just seems so closed off to me.”
“I can see that…What does Sebastian think?”
“Who cares? He doesn’t live here.” You sniggered and he chuckled and nodded.
“Well personally, I’d keep ‘em. You’re so close to Sunset that when people find out this is your home there are bound to be TMZ tour busses rolling to a stop every hour and a half.” He said and you sighed as you realized her was right, “Besides, it just kinda feels like your own little world with them, you know? Almost like secret garden type vibes.” He said as he looked around the area again and you smiled.
“Well thank you for your input, I will consider it.” You assured and he smiled, “Alright, lets get inside.” You said and keyed your way in. You had one of those keypad doors as well because losing keys was your hidden talent.
“Oh wow, this is so nice!” Harry complimented as he looked around inside.
“Thank you.” You smiled as you slipped out of her shoes and he did the same. “Want a tour?”
“Yeah!” He agreed eagerly. 
With that confirmation you first guided him down the hallway towards the master bedroom and let him wander around in there for a bit. It had a door to the backyard as well so he looked out there and let her talk about her plans for her little studio before you wandered into the bathroom and closet. He was obsessed with her shower and even snapped some pictures to see if he could do something like that at his place. Then you went to the guest bedrooms to look around in there, and then you stopped in the living room on their way to the kitchen.
“Hey! That’s mine! I think…” He smiled brightly and pointed at a painting of an array of colorful, small and silly, misshapen faces. He walked up to the wall in the living room with tons of art hung on it and studied that one.
“Oh yeah, it is one of yours.” You smiled, “I found it when I was cleaning out my storage unit!”
“God, I was so fucking high when I painted that…” he recalled and chuckled as he shook his head.
“Were you?” You chuckled and he nodded, glancing back at you for a moment before he looked back to the painting.
“Can’t believe I even gave it to you. It was a secret Santa gift, wasn’t it?” He asked as he turned back towards you, fully this time and you nodded with a smile in response to his question. “It’s pretty cool. M’glad you kept it.” He said more softly.
“Of course I did. I love it. It really catches the eye. S’the one people ask about the most actually. Especially when they see the signature.” You said and he chuckled.
“You’ve got a lot of cool pieces.” He added.
“Thank you.”
“Can’t believe we never even went to a museum together.” he said as he turned back to the wall. “Such a shame…”
“Hey, maybe one day.” You said and he smiled as he turned back to you, “Alright, lets get you fed.” You said.
“Yes, please!” He concurred and followed you through to the kitchen. 
You fixed him a plate and told him to feel free to keep looking around the house while it warmed up. You checked your phone again and Seb had not even sent a text in response yet. You were getting worried now, maybe he was serious when he said he was done. You still didn’t think you’d done anything horribly wrong, he had been quite demanding and unreasonable in your opinion. 
When Harry came back into the kitchen to find you staring at your phone he frowned.
“Hey, everything alright?” His presence startled you a bit, but you nodded quickly.
“Yeah.” You assured and he looked at you skeptically, “I swear. I was just checking to see if Seb got back to me yet.”
“He hasn’t?” He asked and you shook your head as you set your phone down and turned to the microwave to grab his plate. When you turned back he sighed, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, Har.”
“But it is…if I hadn’t insisted t-to have some time with you then maybe-”
“I wanted to have time with you too.” You reminded and slid the plate over to him across the counter and he settled into one of the stools along the island. You then turned around to grab him a fork. Once he had it in his hand he quickly started eating.
“This is delicious.” He moaned with a partially full mouth, “Missed how you cook.” He tagged on happily and you smiled.
“Glad you like it.” You hummed and then started to pack the leftovers back up again. “Do you want some wine or water? I also have Cutwaters, which are quite traumatizing but-”
“Are you gonna have that?” He asked.
“I will if you will.” You said and he chuckled.
“Yeah, alright. What flavor?”
“S’the Long Island ones.” You said with a slight grimace and he mirrored your expression.
“Do you have a death wish?” He asked and you sniggered.
“There were gifted to me with a PR package, OK? Didn’t just want to throw ‘em out.”
“God…just one though, those are alarmingly strong.” He reminded.
“Oh, I know…I hardly even drink anymore apart from the occasional glass of wine. I might only have a cocktail, two max, at events but it’s pretty rare now. So one will definitely do it for me.” You chuckled and he did as well as you turned back to the fridge to open up the box. You came around to the stools and set the cans down and then sat in the spot beside him. “So what did you girlfriend say?” You asked against your better judgment but you had to know.
“About?” He asked, glancing to you before taking another bite of food.
“Us. Hanging out tonight.” You clarified and he hummed.
“Oh! I ummm, I just decided not to mention it to her.” He confessed a bit shamefully, “I was going to but I’m not sure of what her reaction would be and that scared me a bit. And either way, I would’ve come seen you regardless of her opinion about it, so if she’d gotten angry well, I didn’t want to lie and pretend I wasn’t gonna see you on top of making her angry…” he rationalized his decision and then went back for another bite of food.
“A lie of omission is still a lie…” you hummed and he shrugged.
“Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.” He mumbled and you sighed and nodded. “I-is that bad?” He asked.
“What?” You asked.
“That I don’t care what she’d think of us reconnecting.” He said and you sighed.
“I think, in a black and white world the answer is yes, but it’s not. And more than that, I mean, it’s us. It feels wrong to be strangers.” You said and he nodded. “But I mean, in a way it’s good that she’s new in your life because she doesn’t really know how we were together, you know? So she has nothing to worry about. Not that there is anything to worry about at the moment, but if she’s on the insecure side then it could cause her some concern.”
“Like Seb.” He said. Not meaning to, but instinctually having to point it out.
“Yeah, I guess so…” you sighed.
“Maybe he does have something to worry about?” Harry said and you turned to him with a furrow in your brows and then his arched up, “Not with me! Sorry that came out wrong, forget I said anything. Sorry.” He rushed out and took another bite of food.
“If not about you then what?” You asked him as he chewed and he shook his head.
“Just forget it. I misspoke.” He mumbled after swallowing it down.
“H, don’t- don’t do that to me.” You said lowly as you looked into his eyes and he sighed.
“I just…just don’t take what I say to heart, OK? I should’ve just kept my mouth shut.” He prefaced and you nodded, “S’just something a friend told me about their overly jealous and insecure partner that came to mind. She said that often times those people are so worried about what their partners are doing as a form of…projection.” He said and your eyes softened and you looked down at the counter as the implication of what he was saying weighed on you. “Those kinds of people are often paranoid about their own hidden secrets or agendas being uncovered that they try and-” he stopped when he saw you pick up your can and chug it down for a few seconds before setting it down.
Your chest was rising and falling hard as you caught your breath. You weren’t sure if your throat was stinging from the overload of carbonation you’d just gulped down or from fighting off the knot seeking to lodge itself in it. You hadn’t considered that before. Maybe you were naive, but you always trusted that your partners had your best interest at heart. Though you had been cheated on twice by the same person in the past, this was right before you met Harry. And well, things with Harry had been so great that you were largely able to overcome your trust issues over the course of your relationship with him. You healed from it, but now it seemed like it was maybe a thing again.
“Hey,” Harry spoke softly and grabbed your hand and you turned to him, “I know Seb, he wouldn’t do that to you.” He said with certainty, “He was in love with you for five years, maybe more, and never did a thing about it but wait his turn.” He said and you blinked a few times and nodded, “I’m telling you, it just came to mind but I shouldn’t have said anything. It doesn’t- it’s not the same situation.” He emphasized.
“Maybe we’re wrong for this. Maybe we just need t-to let it go. The past is the past, there’s no need to stir up trouble in our present lives over something that clearly wasn’t…wasn’t meant to be.” You said quietly instead and he frowned.
“You can’t believe we weren’t meant to be, Y/N. Of course we were.” He insisted with conviction.
“Then why did we give up?”
“Bad timing.” He said simply.
“Well aren’t you happy right now? As things are.”
“Sure.” He said, “A-are you?”
“I am…I mean, I know I could be happier, but I’m getting there. And it’s not because of you or anything like that, it’s just that Seb and I are still a bit new. And we have a lot more work to do on how our relationship works, clearly.” You said with a smile and he smiled as well and reached for his own drink.
“Wanna talk about it?” He asked and you nodded.
“Desperately.” You said and he smiled.
“Yeah, we can talk about it then.” He assured.
“OK, you finish up here. I’m going to get my makeup off and out of these clothes.”
“Yeah love, take your time.” He assured and you smiled and hurried off. 
Harry finished eating in silence, debating on whether he should tell Tay about coming over to your place or not. Maybe you had a point, she wouldn’t freak out about it like Seb did because she hadn’t seen you guys at your peak. She didn’t know how it had been between you two to be worried about anything happening. And as that thought crossed his mind it then dawned on him that maybe he was also right, about the projecting thing. Maybe he was projecting this feeling of disapproval and rejection from her because he knew he was in the wrong for this. He knew that being here with the person he wholeheartedly believed was his soulmate was such a test…
His own lyrics then came to mind, “my hand’s at risk, I fold”. He’d written that about you all those years ago. He felt then that you’d both put so much into your love, you’d both bet on it with everything you had only for you guys to realize that it wasn’t panning out how you hoped. So you both just pulled out of it before you could get anymore hurt or suffer any more losses. Had folding been a mistake? That was a question that was constantly orbiting in his mind. Had you guys held on a bit longer, would things have suddenly turned around like you’d been betting they would the whole time? Had you guys been too hasty with giving up? That’s what it felt like to him, giving up. He hated giving up. He had felt defeated for so long
and maybe he was here because he was supposed to be. Running into you like he did, talk about the luck of the draw…what were the odds? He dwelled on that thought as he washed his dishes and dried them up. And then he picked up your can of Cutwater to weigh out how much catching up he needed to do and then did just that. He groaned in disgust at the sweet and bitter after taste and then grabbed your can again and made his way to your living room. He set them down on coasters you had at your coffee table and then went to the window to pull the thicker curtains over your window. 
“Hey, can I use the fireplace?” He shouted out and after a few seconds he heard you shout back a yes. So he quickly got a fire going, it was just a comfort thing he supposed. He loved the sound of the crackling firewood and the smell of it burning slowly over the open flame. He got it going and then moments later you came in, your feet in your slippers and your body warmed up in some yoga pants and a crewneck.
“Sorry I took so long.” You apologized.
“S’alright, took the time to clean up after myself and catch up with you.” He said glancing towards your drinks and you smiled and reached for yours, so he grabbed his as well. You tucked one of your legs under you as the other dangled off of the couch. Harry just waited for you to start.
“That’s one of the things I’m struggling with, about Seb.” You started.
“What?” He asked.
“He’s just…a little…helpless. Or lazy, I don’t know which one.”
“Hmmm…”
“Yeah, he didn’t grow up like we did. With everyone pulling their weight, everyone thinking of how what one person does can affect the other. How, you can’t always have it your way, you know?” You explained and Harry nodded. “He’s the youngest of three, has two older sisters, so he never had to lift a finger growing up. His dad’s a pilot and his mom just stayed at home and looked after them. They supported his dreams of being a singer from the get go, like our parents but, they paid for him to come to LA and live here. They had the means so he didn’t struggle at all, his only challenge was just to get a scout’s attention. So fundamentally, we have very different values I think. Especially of what it means to work hard at something. So right now that he’s upset at me, it’s not so much to do with you as it has to do with the fact that he’s not…getting his way.” You explained.
“So he’s a brat?” Harry said with an amused smile.
“Basically…a bit.” You said with a small smile, “And I do love him, but I don’t think it’s…enough to…to make me truly move on like you have.” You explained. He reached for your hand and you squeezed it for a second before letting go.
“Don’t think I’ll ever truly move on from you…” he said, “I’ve been thinking a lot about when we ended things. Like what if we had waited just a little bit more and things had worked out?”
“Would you have…wanted that?”
“Of course.” He said with certainty. “Yeah, I’m happy now, but I’ll always wonder if it’s just another path back to you…I don’t know if that’s…romantic or just plain obsessive.” He chuckled a bit and you smiled.
“Maybe a little bit of both.” You said and he smiled, “I’ve been thinking about how fucking insane it is that we ran into each other at Westlake.” You said and he gasped.
“Me too! Been thinking that since we saw each other.”
“I never go to Westlake if I can help it…like ever. So the odds of me even being there are…astronomical.” You said.
“Really?”
“Oh yeah! Honestly, I’ve delayed recording by a day or two if it’s the only one with open slots.” You giggled with a shake of you head. Maybe it was crazy of you, but you felt like the place was cursed. 
“That drastic!? Why?” He asked, his face scrunched up in a confused smile and your smile faded slowly.
“Ummm…that’s where I was, when you…called.” You said and his eyes softened.
“Oh.” Is all he could say.
“Yep, suite 2.” You said with a small, sad smile, “I feel like the place is cursed.” You told him what you’d always thought.
“And isn’t two the number you dislike the most out of all the even numbers?” He asked and you chuckled.
“Yeah, actually!” You confirmed.
“Don’t you think it’s too big of a coincidence that our paths crossed for the first time in years in the same place we ended our relationship?” He asked.
“Of course, I do.” You sighed and shook your head.
“Do you think it’s…a sign?” He asked and your gaze softened as you looked away.
“D-don’t do that, H.” You said with a frown and he scooted closer.
“Hey, look at me.” He said softly and you glanced up at him, he was just inches from your face. “It’s been you the whole time, you have to know that.” He said softly.
“I feel the same but…but we can’t…” your voice cracked as your eyes welled up.
“Why not?” He asked you, grabbing your face now, “Why can’t we just be together how we’re supposed to?”
“Because at some point we weren’t supposed to. We can’t hurt the people in our lives like that. They don’t deserve that.” You sniffled and he swallowed thickly.
“You’re right. You’re so right.” He sighed. A moment of weakness for him…what was he thinking.
“It doesn’t mean I don’t love you, Harry.” You said and he nodded.
“I know…I just…I can’t believe I said that…so ridiculous.” He sighed, feeling so ashamed for even suggesting it and now you reached for him.
“It’s not, Harry. It’s not like I wasn’t thinking it too.” You said and he squeezed your hand a bit tighter.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, of course. How could I not…” you said and he bit his lip.
“Look, maybe not now but what about a few years from now?” He said and your mouth dropped open a bit.
“What?”
“A few years from now, if we find ourselves alone again we try again.” He said and your lips turned up.
“That’s…that’s wild…”
“This whole thing has been wild! I mean, all of this was just a twist of fate. I can’t let this go to waste without trying. You’re my soul mate, I just know it.” He said and you exhaled shakily, “Tempt fate with me, love. Just one more time.” He appealed and you chuckled.
“OK.” You agreed.
“Yeah?” He asked happily, his heart pounding hard in his chest.
“Yeah.” You whispered. 
Neither of you were really thinking too much about it when his hand came up to your jaw and tilted it upwards and your lips met quickly. When you both realized that you’d kissed you pulled away immediately. Your eyes met as a deafening silence came over the both of you. He hadn’t let you go yet and his eyes drifted down to your lips again, how he had missed the taste of them. The feeling of them against his own. He leaned back in and when your hand hooked around his neck he just smooshed his lips against yours with urgency.
You both sighed in relief at the feeling of kissing like this again. You felt like a wildfire right now, fierce and untamable. When his hands landed on your hips and pulled, you quickly got the hint and climbed into his lap. His strong arms hugged around your waist, making you feel safe and cared for in his arms, like old times. You smiled in satisfaction before his tongue licked at your bottom lip and you opened up easily for him. And when you felt your tongues meeting you moaned and slid your hands up to grab his hair to pull at it like you always would. But you were instead met with the smooth and lightly ticklish surface of his buzzcut and you started to giggle.
“Forgot about that.” You grinned, before pecking his lips lightly and he laughed with you. You pulled back just a bit, your noses skimming as your gazes met. You kissed him quickly again and pulled back before he could deepen the kiss again, leaving him wanting. 
“Baby…” he whined lowly. Leaning in and you turned your head a bit, his kiss landing at the corner of your mouth.
“We should stop before we do something worse.” you whispered and he sighed but nodded.
“You’re right. Sorry.” He whispered and you just smiled and hugged him and he hugged you back. It was just a few moments into your embrace when you guys heard a car lock beeping from outside.
“That’s Seb’s car.” You said, immediately recognizing the sound.
“Shit.” Harry whispered as he let you go and you clambered off of his lap quickly and assumed your previous seat. “Sorry for that. I promise I held off as long as I could.” He apologized and you shook your head.
“It’s alright, I wanted to. Was thinking about it the whole time as well so…” You reassured him as your eyes met and he just smiled at you. Seconds later the lock on the front door chimed, indicating it had been unlocked and then Sebastian appeared, standing at the entrance of the living room to see you and Harry sitting on the couch, a comfortable distance between the two of you.
“Hey.” He greeted you both.
“Hey.”, “Hi, Seb.” You and Harry greeted him.
“Sorry for just leaving like that. I wanted to call you back after hearing your message, but I wanted t’cool off a bit. Went to the bar and I didn’t realize I dropped my phone there. Luckily, someone found it and turned it in. Then I went to Jake’s to track it since he lives close to it and when I went back to get it the screen was all wrecked.” He said holding it up.
“Oh shit! M’sorry.”, “That sucks, mate.” You and Harry said and he chuckled.
“Just bad luck I guess.” He sighed, “So ummm, you guys just catching up?” He asked and you nodded.
“Yeah, Harry’s telling me about performing at Slane Castle.” You said and he nodded.
“Do you mind if I join you guys?” He asked.
“Not at all, mate.” Harry smiled.
“Cool. I’ll get a drink too then.” Seb said with a small smile and you nodded as he headed off to the kitchen.
“Thanks for putting me on the spot.” Harry whispered with a disbelieving grin and you giggled.
“As fate would have it, you had an iconic tour this year, so you can tell the stories…” you smiled.
> Next Part >
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jyoongim · 2 months
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ok but what about alastor with a reader like angel dust in the sense trapped and abused by valentino maybe they have a different sort of personality than angel dust but in a similar situation how would he react to seeing his s/o in that sort of a situation maybe they have to interact with valentino infront of him.
thoughts?
warnings: fluff????sexual trauma! mention of SA! Val is a perverted dick! Fem!reader, Alastor not letting shit slide but caring about your wellbeing first!
Think of this as an extension of the Alastor x retired!pornstar reader fic!
You and Angel took a beauty day from all the hustle and bustle of the hotel. The day was filled with spa appointments and shopping.
Angel laughed as you asked his opinion on lingerie that Alastor would like, blushing when he teased about the Overlord having the hots for you. You were having a great time; until Angel’s phone started blowing up.
Valentino.
The perverted bug was calling Angel in for a shoot and on his day off.
You grimaced, but you understood. 
Valentino didn't understand the word ‘No’.
Thats why you stayed away from the industry.
Consent did not matter. At least to Val. 
You shuddered at the unpleasant memories.
Angel apologized,  but you shook you head, looping your arm through his to walk him to the studio. You at least wanted to see him off.
You felt your ears flatten as you entered the studio, your palms getting sweaty as the two attendants opened the double doors to Val’s studio.
”Annnngeelll baby I missed you!” Val exclaimed, taking a puff of his cigarette as he approached the two of you.
His red eyes shifted to you, a purr rumbling through his chest
”ooooh Angel you didnt say you were bringing an absolute gem!” His large hand wrapped around your unwilling hand, bringing it to his lips and instead of kissing it…Val licked up your arm.
You immediately recoiled, giving a nervous smile “pleasure as always Val,  but I fear that I am not here for any…ugh entertaining purposes, just seeing Angel off before heading home”
Home.
That’s right home.
 You considered the hotel home.
Everyone was so nice and no one judged you for your past.
You didnt have to put on a persona for a camera and could just be yourself. You could laugh and cry and be comforted for it.
And you were treated like a person. By an evil Overlord at that.
Val chuckled darkly, looking you up and down “oooh really? Because Angel could use a few pointers, you might dress differently but you can’t fool me cara…” A slight burning sensation had you wince a bit, clutching your belly.
cursed womb mark. Damn you Valentino.
 “You’re nothing but a little cumslut” Val leaned down to whisper in your ear.
You narrowed your eyes, glaring up at him. Angel gave a nervous laugh to ease the tension “Why don’t you stay to watch one shoot eh? I don’t mind being criticized by a true professional” he tugged you under his arm, away from Val and to give you a wink.
You sighed “one shoot. Ill stay to watch one shoot”
Val grinned as he whisked you to sit in a director chair as he handed you the script.
You made a face of disgust as you looked over the script. Rough, demeaning sex and no buildup at all.
You shuddered. You were happy to have left all this behind but you knew everyone wasn’t lucky.
”ACTION SLUTS!” Val shouted to begin the scene.
Your eyes roamed about the scene and you felt sweaty.
Uncomfortable and anxiety. These were emotions you usually had when you were around Val, but they normally ran this rapid when you were in a shoot yourself.
But you weren’t…so why were you so nervous?
”What do you think about that angle?”
”You could have made that work”
”None of them are gonna reach your level!”
”Ugh they can’t even get that right!”
You barely listened to Val’s rambling until your lower belly burned, you clenched your teeth, eyes looking over at the smug pimp.
A smile was on his face, but it didn’t match his words.
”Why don’t you be a doll and show ‘em how its done babygirl” he tilted his head smiling knowingly.
It was like a light switch went off.
A warm feeling spread throughout your body and you found yourself moving towards the scene.
The script was rather raunchy;  ‘victim blindfolded and bound taken advantage of by gang’
”watch and learn” Valentino purred watching as a demon blindfolded you and settled you into a low arch.
You were surrounded. The warmth and heavy scents surrounded you as the demons touched and probed at you.
A whimper escaped your throat as a tongue licked at your cunt, dipping into you to give you some prep.
No No No No No No NO! You were screaming in your head as several cocks entered you.
Your lips parted to scream but a cock was shoved down your throat, a moan erupting from the demon who thrusted into your mouth.
Your body burned as you were worked into an orgasm. You kicked and thrashed to get the demons off of you.
They couldn’t cum in you, they just couldn’t.
Alastor…
Tears streamed down your face as you thought of the red demon.
How would be react when he found you smelling like other demons?
You had given up this lifestyle. You weren’t a whore who needed to flaunt her pussy to the world for a quick buck.
”G-get off-” you tried to say through the haze.
Your blindfold fell as you were pounded into, your eyes frantically meeting Val’s; a smirk was on his lips as he puffed his cigarette 
Go on and cum baby he mouthed
No! Nonononono!
Your body tensed as you cummed around a stranger’s dick.
A sob escaped you as the demon groaned before spilling his cum into you, the others cumming on your body.
Long arms wrapped around you, pulling you off the bed and you sobbed into a fuzzy chest.
”What the hell Val!” Angel hissed, wrapping a robe around you.
The tall demon snapped his finger and your womb mark ceased burning. “I’m sure the public would love to see such a diamond return to the spotlight. After all, she’s my best investment”
He looked over you, clicking his tongue and waving the two of you off as he shouted out commands for the next scene.
”I can’t believe that asshole did that to you. Oh toots don’t worry well get you cleaned up and good as new once we get to the hotel” Angel tried to reassure you.
You immediately ran to your room, getting in the bath and scrubbing at your skin.
Tears ran down your face as you scrubbed. You wanted the scent and feeling of those demons off you.
Your skin was red and you didn’t even realize how hard you were scrubbing until a clawed hand grabbed the sponge.
”Darlin scrub any harder and your skin will be raw” a radio-filtered voice chirped.
You jerked away, eyes wide as you watch Alastor drain the tub.
”now what’s got you so raddled?” He tilted his head in question.
Your lip quivered, head down, unable to meet his eyes.
A hand gently cupped your chin to make you look at him. Alastor had a very stern look on his face, despite the smile on his face.
”I-I-I’m sorry Al!” You bursted into sobs as you wrapped your wet arms around his neck.
He patted your back to soothe you, waiting for you to calm down so you could tell him what disturbed you so much.
”I was out with Angel and he was called to the studio a-and Val h-he h-he…I did something I vowed to never do I’m sorry I’m so sorry” you sobbed.
Alastor stiffened.
He knew what your occupation was before you came to the hotel. You had given that up to better yourself.
He never once thought that you would be dragged back to be a former version of yourself.
He could smell the scents of others on you, no amount of soap and fragrance could hide the fact he knew what had transpired.
”Oh my dear it’s alright” he cooed,pulling you to stand. To assess the damage that had been done.
Claw marks and an intricate mark on your lower belly.
He grimaced.
But he had more important matters to attend to, you.
He cautiously lathered you in lotions, put ointments on your wounds and dressed you for bed.
”Don’t worry your pretty head my dear, I don’t think of you any less. I know you wouldn’t have done something like that on your own free will” he hummed tucking you in, pressing a reassuring kiss to your forehead.
He waited until you fell asleep to slip away and once your bedroom door closed behind him, his aura darkened.
The hallways lights flickered and the building shook as his shadow angrily ripped at the wallpaper and figurines.
He made his way to his radio tower and smiled wickedly.
He wouldn’t let this offense go unnoticed. Oh no no one dared to lay a hand on his darlin and get away with it.
Oh he was going to make the Vees live a fucking nightmare
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tugoslovenka · 6 months
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i love baldur's gate 3, truly i do. i find it one of the most wonderful games in recent times and the work that larian has done in trying to emulate a dnd-like video game is commendable bc they have done some good work with the lore and mechanics. but i really, really would like it if larian would for once in their goddamned fucking existence released a full game on launch day. i know games will always need patches to address some issues, but releasing info abt the upper city as a hub area weeks before release only to completely scrap the idea altogether? having NO ending, literally no actual epilogue or anything that adds to the story after the fight, just this random black screen and no proper epilogue? the half-baked encounters against orin and gortash after making them out to be on the same level ketheric's fight which actually felt like a boss? making dark urge this entire ~special origin story without actually allowing a player to do a true evil run without losing out on like 2/3 content? there is no punishment or reward for not taking/taking the tadpoles, it literally means nothing in the grand scheme of things. also for a multiplayer game, there's a resounding lack of actual story progression if you have all four slots covered, like it straight up locks you out of a lot of companions' stories bc you can never take them with you. this isn't even getting into the horrendous bugs and performance issues that straight up fry PCs by the end of the game. also adding fan service without any actual plot like - halsin's completely useless existence in act 3? also nonsense like gortash being lorded in the middle of wyrm's rock, the literal first fortress to the city that would not house the new lord of baldur's gate under any circumstance? gale starts the game with a TRUE RESURRECTION scroll that can be used to solve a myriad of problems, including, i dont know, curing karlach entirely by killing her then reviving her? having to go to cazador's palace through a random tower in the middle of the city? the emperor just deciding to abandon you and join the elder brain after spending years fighting its influence if you decide to go against him? like these are all unfinished parts to a "full" game. i still have nightmares from DOS2 and what a fucking mess that was and the fact that you need the "definitive edition" to make the final act work is straight up predatory... honestly fuck y'all for making ppl pay twice for the product they should have gotten the first time. anyway the game is great but larian needs a kick up the ass for some obvious bullshit that would not be tolerated if it were any other studio!
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Say It | Alessia Russo x Reader
Finally posting this because I will have the distraction of Friendsgiving. Nervous so be nice. First time writing a fic.
Warnings: alcohol, soft smut... kinda toxic kinda fluffy idk
The loud and incessant knocking jolted Alessia from her sleep. She looked around trying to gather herself only to jump when the pounding began again. She knew it was you, for the last 4 months it was always you.
She kicks back the covers and makes her way through her flat, the knocking finally ceasing. She peeks at the time on the stove on her way, 2:13am. Looking through the hole in the door and she is met with the sight of you slumping against her door frame. 
“It’s 2am,” is the unimpressed greeting she gives you. 
However, she can’t help but match the smile that breaks across your face from seeing her. “Lessi, I missed you,” you confess, moving to wrap your arms around her. 
Alessia hates that she melts into your touch. Instinctively folding herself into you, face buried in your neck she places a few soft kisses before pulling away. Even after being woken up at 2am all she wants is to be in your presence. She wants to be consumed by your scent, your hands, your voice, and everything else that makes you, you.
The last six months Alessia has been falling for you through secret meetups, phone calls and first times. You come from different worlds and she doesn’t fully understand your life but it doesn’t matter when it’s just you and her. You’re different when you’re laid up in her flat rather than surrounded by people in a packed club. You’re gentle with her, caring, and soft as you let the cold exterior you present vanish in those moments. 
Alessia Russo is everything good in this world, and your worlds should have never collided. The party girl popstar from New York and the English footballer. 
“Come on then,” Alessia sighs with a smile tugging at her mouth. This part was routine. She would usher you to the kitchen, pour you a glass of water and observe you. Study you trying to see what kind of night she was in for. 
There were three different moods you usually showed up to her house in, but all including a certain level of intoxication no matter the time of day. It was something she noticed early on in getting to know you. A glass of some form of alcohol is always an extension of your hand. A shot of whiskey in your morning coffee, a beer over the football match, or a glass of wine with dinner. You would say it’s to ease the stress, which she understood but she hates it. There were moments of course when you were sober but they came few and far between. She didn’t push you, she accepted the ways you cope with the difficulties your life came with. 
The first mood you’d arrive in was grumpy. While not her favorite she adored grumpy you. On those days you hadn’t drank too much, a glass or two of something to get the creative juices flowing you would tell her. Usually grumpy after a frustrating studio session where you couldn’t play a chord right or get a chorus in the right key.
“Tell me what you need,” she asked the first time.
“Nothing. I just wanted to be with you Less. You make me feel better,” you told her perched on her kitchen counter with your head hanging low in defeat. 
A blush covered her cheeks as she wiggled her way between your legs before whispering, “say it again.”
You look up a smile threatening to creep through, "I only want you. I always want to be with you Alessia.”
“I’m yours (y/n).” It was true, but not official. You both loved whispering sweet nothings and words of assurance in the darkness of her flat but never mentioned a word of it by sunrise. “Let's go to bed.”
That’s all grumpy you needed, words of affirmation and head rubs to soothe the frustration while wrapped up in one of her Arsenal jumpers. You wouldn't want Alessia to move even an inch away from you after you finally got cuddled up in bed. 
Alessia’s least favorite was when you showed up inconsolable after way too many drinks from your night out with one Leah Williamson. Those nights she contemplates if she should’ve listened to Leah’s warnings to stay away from you. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be there for you, she did, but you always broke her heart a little on those nights. She hated seeing you so broken and lost with barely any control over your body. It amazed her how you always found your way to her even then. Those nights always ended in a gut wrenching confession before you dozed to add to her already broken heart. 
Alessia attempted to sober you up to no avail with glasses of water and a cup of tea meant to calm you. “Come, let’s go to bed (y/n).”
Your tears were gone, but the guilt was still present in your head as you wordlessly took her hand and allowed yourself to be led into the bedroom. Alessia was gentle while stripping your clothes and wiping off makeup in between soft kisses to your tear stained cheeks. The silence was deafening. She knew by now some sort of confession was soon to come, but she was weak for you. She would let her own heart break every day just to have you by her side. 
“Are you okay? Do you think you’ll be sick?” She asks tracing the features of your jaw as you lay facing one another. 
She knows from the hesitation in your eyes what’s coming. The way your eyes frantically take in every part of her like it could be gone in a second, “I- I’m sorry Lessi. I didn’t mean to and it was selfish to come here to you after.” The confession… vague as usual still hurts. “I only want you Lessi. Nobody makes me feel the way you do.”
“Let’s go to sleep (y/n),” she never pushes for more. The times she had were unbearable. 
“Do you hate me?” It’s mumbled and full of insecurity. 
Alessia closes her eyes and takes a breath. Even if she wanted to hate you, she couldn't. “I could never hate you.”
That makes the tears return. You tuck your face into her neck breathing in the comforting scent, “it was just… just a kiss it meant nothing. I’m sorry. I’m yours, I just- I had too much and-” she doesn’t let you finish not wanting to know more. 
“Please (y/n),” it’s so desperate and full of pain. “Sleep please.”
Those nights were the worst, and it always resulted in you waking up alone. Alessia allows you to fall into a drunken slumber before slipping out of your arms and moving to the guest bedroom to cry herself to sleep. As usual, no words were exchanged about it in the morning after she made yet another excuse for you. ‘It’s not cheating if she’s not really mine,’ she would tell herself to not be upset. You’d make your way to the kitchen and wrap your arms around her as she cooks. Alessia would be desperate for the touch after being deprived of it all night. You hated yourself on those mornings and Alessia did too, but she wouldn’t admit it. There hadn’t been a moment like that in a while and Alessia didn’t know which was worse, knowing it had happened or being left to wonder if it did.
Her favorite was somewhere in the middle. You’d be giddy from your light buzz full of compliments and cheeky flirtation. Needy in the best way possible and unable to keep your hands to yourself. As she turns to pour you a glass of water she knows that’s the exact night she’s in for today. 
“Baby,” you whisper, hands slipping under her hoodie. “You look beautiful.” 
Her abs twitch under your touch and you can’t help but smirk into her neck. She releases a deep sigh as she spins around in your hold, “drink love.”
“Kiss first?” You pucker your lips dramatically, sitting the glass aside and trapping her between the counter and your body. 
Alessia meets you halfway with a smile gracing her face. She pecks your lips a few times never letting you deepen it, “proper kiss baby love,” you tease in an attempt to mock her accent. She rolls her eyes as her smile widens even more. She can still taste the liquor that you tried to mask behind mints. 
“I’ve missed you, three days is too long to be away from you. I need you,” you tell her, pulling away to look in her eyes as they flutter back open. 
“I’m right here, love. Drink so we can go to bed,” you nod and pick up the glass knowing she won’t let you move until you do. “Good job,” she praises, rewarding you with another peck to the lips. 
She wiggles out from between you and the counter grasping your hand to drag you along with her, “tell me you missed me too Lessi,” you whine. 
She glances at you over her shoulder as a smirk pulls at her lips, “I enjoyed the alone time.”
You stop letting your hand fall from hers as she makes her way back towards bed, “I thought of you at every moment and you didn’t miss me at all?”
“Thought of me at every moment, but you got back to London hours ago and are only making it here to me at 2am? I’m sure you thought of other things, love,” she says it jokingly but you can tell there’s a bit of truth to it. 
“Should I not have come?” You bring yourself between her legs as she sits on the edge of the bed. 
“No baby, I’m happy to see you, but it would be nice if you came earlier. A girl needs her beauty sleep. Plus training starts back soon, so no more late night visits for you.”
You cup her cheek and lean down to kiss her, “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, a few missed nights won’t hurt.”
“Cheesy, I missed you too.”
“Good, I wrote a song about you,” you confess crawling your way on top of her as she makes her way up the bed. 
“What?” There’s a look of surprise before she smirks.
“I missed you the whole time I was gone, so on the flight back I wrote a song…about you.” You lean down, placing open mouthed kisses along her neck.
She puts a hand to your chest to push you away before you can connect your lips with hers, “what is the song about?”
“The blue eyed girl in North London.”
She scoffs, pushing you aside with a pout, “everyone will think the song is about Leah ya know yeah?”
You met Leah first when she was on holiday in New York. You quickly became friends; she was now someone you trusted and cared for deeply. You didn’t have many close friends and the defender was a godsend in your life. There were of course rumors when the two of you started hanging around, so you understood where Alessia was coming from. 
No one knew you and the striker were involved, not even Leah. It wasn’t because you wanted to hide, but when Leah introduced you she made it very clear she didn’t want you to involve yourself with her teammates. Neither of you thought it would be more than a casual thing so you never mentioned it, but boy were you wrong. 
“Baby the song is not about Leah. I don’t miss Leah’s smile when she’s not around. I don’t crave her touch, or her lips. She doesn’t invade all of my thoughts throughout the day. I don’t care who people think the song is about. I know that it’s for you because you’re the only person who makes me feel everything. I- it’s just you Lessi. You’re mine.” 
She lets you kiss her this time. It’s slow and full of every emotion you’re both too afraid to say. Alessia takes a shaky breath. “Say it,” she tells you and it makes you stop.
She didn’t have to tell you what she wanted to hear. For the last month you two have been dancing around the three words that would change everything. At this point she needed to hear it to make everything make sense. “Lessi, I can’t,” you drop your head to her shoulder. 
“Ok then, kiss me,” she demands. 
You don’t have to be told twice as you immediately connect your eager lips with hers. Attempting to put every feeling into one kiss you get frantic. Hands roaming before tugging at the bottom of her hoodie, “can I?” 
“Yes,” is Alessia’s breathless response when she meets your eyes. Your favorite blues are darker than usual, full of desire. You lift the hoodie over her head and place kisses all over her face. 
“My girl,” you whisper before once again indulging in her lips. Alessia squirms under your touch as you tug the waistband of her shorts in a silent request for permission. Clearly impatient, Alessia lifts her hips and pulls them down in one motion. “Needy girl,” you tease, running a hand along her thigh. 
“Please,” she whimpers. 
Tonight felt different. It was far from your first time with the striker, but emotions were clearly higher than usual. Alessia wasn’t one to beg usually, she enjoyed the build up and would let you take control however you pleased. So, hearing her voice, her desires shot right through you. 
You moved your kisses from her neck to her chest and then her stomach making sure there wasn’t a single inch of her skin untouched. Your hands caressed her thighs inching closer to where she wanted you most with each stroke. You place a soft kiss to the inside of her thigh and her hand moves to the back of your head trying to guide you closer. 
As you slide down the bed to get more comfortable you finally place a soft kiss to her glistening core. Alessia’s head drops back onto the pillow with a strangled moan. Hands tangled firmly in your hair to keep you in place. 
Tonight wasn’t one of those nights you wanted to tease her. You wanted her to know you would do anything she desired. You take the first swipe through her folds and are rewarded with a glorious moan. It urges you on wanting to draw more of them out of the striker. You make sure she’s well worked up before slipping your fingers inside her, tongue moving to focus on the girl's already sensitive clit. 
“You are so fucking beautiful,” you breath out. You can’t explain it but tonight is overwhelming. You are so consumed by Alessia mentally and physically. She reacts to every single touch and it is too much for you. She is addicting from the way she tasted, how she felt, the way she moaned your name it was all so much. 
You reach up to play with her chest still working relentlessly inside her when you feel it. Your hands still and your tongue stops moving as Alessia’s head shoots up from the pillow to look at you with a glare. “Fuck,” you mumble into her core embarrassingly as your core clenches, forehead dropping to her stomach. Alessia’s eyes widen and a moan escapes her throat when she realizes why you stopped. 
Your own orgasm comes out of nowhere causing a string of curses to drop from your mouth. You take a moment to let it ride out fingers still buried deep inside the striker who’s staring at you jaw slacked and pupils blown. You don’t even know how to proceed as shame washes over you from orgasming from simply pleasuring her. 
It’s the needy moan from Alessia that finally makes you tilt your head up and meet her gaze, “I-I’m sorry that was…” you trail off unable to explain yourself only to see her shake her head. 
“No, no that was… wow you’re… fuck. C’mere, kiss me,” she pants as you resume your ministrations to her core and move up her body to meet her lips in a sloppy kiss. She can barely keep up with the kiss between each moan so you kiss down her jaw to her neck sucking harshly. You feel them vibrate from her throat. “Baby, I’m cl-,” she pants, unable to finish as her eyes close tightly. 
She didn’t have to tell you, you could feel her walls tightening around your fingers. You pick up your already relentless pace and place a delicate kiss to the side of her mouth that’s hanging open as beautiful moans fall out. “Look at me,” you demand and blue eyes snap to yours immediately. “I wanna see your pretty eyes as you fall apart screaming my name,” you tell her as you swipe your thumb across her clit knowing that’s all it’ll take to send her over the edge. 
“Fuck (y/n),” it’s moaned in the best way possible, and it’s the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen. Face flushed, back arched, toes curled, hands gripping desperately at the sheets below you, jaw slacked producing the most delicious sounds, and eyes fighting to stay on you before they eventually roll back. Alessia Russo was divine. Your fingers slow but don’t stop until she’s completely rid out her orgasm and flutters her eyes back to you with a dopey smile.
You had no words for the moment and didn’t trust your voice anyway. You lean back down, again hoping to put every ounce of your heart into one kiss. Alessia reciprocates with the same eagerness to convey every emotion. Until she pulls away and a heartbreaking sob escapes from her causing you to freeze. 
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, keep kissin’,” Alessia pleads, trying to pull you back down. 
“Alessia,” you whisper, moving yourself  to lay beside her and wipe the tears away from her blushed cheeks. “Talk to me,” you beg, pulling the covers up over her body. 
“No, I’m okay, sorry,” she tells you, burying her face in your neck. 
“You’re not or you wouldn’t be crying. Did I do something wrong?”
“No, you were perfect, baby. Absolutely amazing. I loved everything. I’m just a little emotional I guess. It was a lot.”
“It was a lot for me too. That’s… I’ve never done… that before,” you say blushing as you think back to what happened. 
“That was sensational,” she tells you. 
“Tell me what’s going through your head right now.”
She pauses as her eyes close, unable to keep your gaze any longer, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”
Your heart drops as that’s the last thing you expected to hear, “what? What did I do wrong? I swear I can fix it. I know I’ve made mistakes, believe me when I say I’m sorry. I will be better. I have been better Alessia, believe me.”
“We- I don’t want to be your secret anymore. I don’t want to be your 2am visit. You give me so much and so little at the same time.”
“I’ll give you the world Alessia.”
She smiles sadly, “I know but you can’t even tell me how you feel. You tell me that I’m yours, but you’re not even mine. I… I don’t even want to know what you do when you’re not with me. It’s unfair, but I want to be selfish with you. I’m not trying to pressure you into anything, but you have me (y/n). I am yours, my heart is yours on a silver platter.”
“There’s no one else Alessia,” you were desperate. “I’m right here. What else do you want from me?”
“It doesn’t matter. Let’s go to sleep. I'm just overwhelmed like I said that was a lot,” she leans into your body wrapping herself into your hold. 
You both go silent. You pull her impossibly closer, running your hand up and down the length of her back. You want to provide some sense of comfort as you feel her sigh against your neck. “I’m terrified, Lessi.”
It takes a while before you hear her respond, “of what?”
You take your own moment before answering, “I’m terrified of how happy you make me, of possibly losing my best friend when she finds out I slept with her teammate behind her back, of being destroyed when you realize that I’m not worth your time. All of it. I’m so scared of admitting that I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you. That I’ve never felt what I feel for you. It’s all new to me. I don't know how to go about this. You aren’t some dirty little secret I come to see at night for a good time. You’re all I want to end my night and tell you about my day. I want to wake up and start my day with you. I think about going back on tour soon when the album is finished, or you away when the season starts and I can’t imagine being away from you for that long. I know I’ve made mistakes since we’ve started. I know I’ve hurt you and I’m sorry for being a coward, but you’re all I want Alessia,” you breathe out. 
Alessia finally looks up from your neck. Her eyes search yours for a moment before she’s cupping your cheek, “I’m not going anywhere, but I’m falling (y/n). I don’t want to do it alone. I will be there for whatever happens with Leah and I’ll be here waiting for you when you get a break on tours. You’ll be where I come home to after road trip games. Just please tell me I’m not falling alone.”
You probably take longer than you should searching her features for any slight chance of a lie. Seeing none, you finally take a deep breath before admitting what you knew for a while now, “I love you Alessia,” the smile that you are rewarded with takes away any fear that you have. There was a weight lifted off of you like you didn’t have to hide it even from yourself anymore. 
“I love you too (y/n).”
“What do we do now? What does it mean?” You ask, trying to navigate the new feelings. 
“What do you want?”
“Everything as long as it’s with you,” you smile. 
“Baby,” she blushes, hitting at your chest as her cheeks turn a deep crimson. 
You smile, taking hold of her cheek before leaning down to kiss her, “I love you Alessia Russo.”
“And I love you (y/n).”`
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mulligans-tavern · 10 days
Text
https://www.tumblr.com/doomed-to-wanda/747617028751474688?source=share
Inspiration above
TW death, grief
---
Five Funerals
They lose Fig first.
Comes with the territory when you're an archdevil - somebody's always looking to take your spot. "Don't worry about it," she says, opening a Planeshift to the recording studio. "It's just the usual rebellious fiends. Icythorz and Bolhondrus and the rest. I'll be back before you know it." She looks resplendent in black leather, the Unfaithable Bass slung across her back, riding the fiery Daymare surrounded in jagged red shards.
Adaine knows before everyone else, but can't believe the vision to be true until she learns that Ayda is gone, too. She scratched every memory of Fig out of her notes before starting over - it was too much pain to bear. The five of them know how it feels.
---5---
It's a few years before they take another hit. Another mission to the Mountains of Chaos, another world-ending calamity to be stopped because Who Else Is Going To Save The World? A small misstep, a miscalculation (six where there should be five, they're only five now) and suddenly the routine becomes deadly.
Riz takes the fall. "It's easier this way," he says, in his last moments. "I'll still see you." And he does. Agent Gukgak Jr., now, with some extra responsibility. But he still comes by. Sometimes. Every so often. Often enough.
---4---
Kristen is next. Only one thing could bring down the most gifted cleric of the age - sacrificing herself for her friends. Third time's the charm when it comes to death, it turns out.
Gorgug is the most hopeful that she'll come back, that she'll find a way again, like in the Nightmare Forest. But Adaine knows this is the end. Even Arthur Aguefort agrees. He quotes Alanis Morissette at her funeral. The followers of Cassandra pull out all the stops.
Adaine, Fabian, and Gorgug have their own ceremony at Ashgrove, next to the Gukgak family plot. It's quiet. Bucky cries into Ragh's shoulder. Aelwyn, Jawbone, and Gertie collect flowers. Tracker stays for a few minutes to say goodbye.
---3---
They quit adventuring after Kristen's funeral. And they don't lose anyone else for a long time. Riz still visits, every few years. They talk about the good old days, how silly it was that Baron was so terrifying when at the end of the day it was an honest conversation that finally did him in. There's rumours that Kristen has ascended to goddesshood herself - Adaine doesn't buy it. She's not the type to be revered.
They come out of retirement for the only reason they would - to bring back one of their own. They finally found Fig's soul, trapped in a ruby in the darkest levels of the Abyss. They can't ask anyone to come with them - it's too dangerous, it's too personal. It's missions like this that kill people.
And when it's all over, when Adaine carries Fabian's burnt, unconscious body back to Morded Manor, they have another funeral to plan.
Gorbag and Roz have already passed, and Wilma and Digby are too old to make preparations, so it falls to Jawbone to organize it. He knows they don't want a lot of fanfare. It's at Ashgrove again, just Adaine and Fabian and the Thistlesprings, and Aelwyn and Ragh. Sandra-Lynn is back in Solace - she sends Adaine a heartfelt text saying she appreciates the invitation, but she can't bring herself to come.
Riz doesn't show for the ceremony - he's desperately scouring the heavenly realms, trying to make sure Gorgug ended up somewhere he wasn't afraid of. Orcish heaven doesn't have him, he reports, and neither does Cassandra.
If he's trapped in the Abyss with Fig, at least they have each other.
---2---
Adaine sees Fabian's death the night of Gorgug's funeral. She needs to prepare, she tells herself. She knows it's going to be hard. She needs all the time she can get, and she needs to know which goodbye will be their last.
They grow old together. Not romantically, although some speculate. Fabian becomes a multiclass advisor at the Aguefort Adventuring Academy. Adaine works in Bastion City as an archivist, with occasional trips to Fallinel for Oracle services. They go for vacations sometimes, but never for too long. The memories find them no matter where they go. Sometimes Adaine wishes she could be Ayda, scrape off the old wounds and start fresh. Arthur talks about her sometimes. She's never had the same spark as that one lifetime, he says.
Adaine watches the wrinkles grow beside Fabian's eye, watches his hair turn grey, watches the Future of Dance become its Mentor. He trades his Battlesheet for a cane-sword, then a regular cane. He takes to wearing the Gregorian necktie to classes, no matter how much it clashes with his outfit. They both wonder how many of their own teachers lost party members.
Adaine holds Fabian's wrinkled hand on his deathbed, in his old room at Seacaster Manor. He grins, flashes the same perfect teeth as on the first day of Freshman Year. "Bet you didn't see this one coming, did you?"
"I did," she whispers, tears streaming down her young elven face. "I knew it would end like this. But I always hoped it would last forever."
They're the last words he hears.
It's not the first funeral Adaine organizes. All the Bad Kids held one for Buddy Dawn, back in high school. She and Fabian worked together on the services for Jawbone, Ragh, and Chungledown Bim - who finally caught up to Fabian in both of their old ages. It is the first funeral she has to organize alone.
Some of Fabian's students attend. Arthur Aguefort gives a short speech, and a few students hear the story of Kalvaxus' return for the first time. Adaine sits with Aelwyn in the front row, a few seats down from Hallariel. Gilear records the service to show Telemaine later. Riz is somewhere deep undercover - he maybe hasn't even heard yet.
She always knew she'd be the last. She didn't expect it to hurt so much.
---1---
Adaine stumbles through a few years before she finds herself again. They pass so fast without a mortal lifespan to hold up against them. She drifts between Fallinel and Bastion City for the most part, with occasional return trips to Elmville. Aelwyn always has a place for her to stay. Seacaster Manor was turned into a dormitory for Aguefort students who needed a place to study, or sleep, or stay away from home for a while. Tracker converted Morded Manor into a temple/bed-and-breakfast for worshipers of Galicaea. Strongtower Luxury Apartments was demolished soon after Fabian started teaching at Aguefort. It seems like everything is different now.
Adaine visits Leviathan once, on a whim. The Compass Points hasn't changed a bit. On a chance meeting in the stacks, Ayda looks at her with a spark of familiarity.
"Adaine Abernant?"
"Yes... you remember me?"
Ayda shakes her head. "There are mentions of you in my journals. I leave journals for when I regenerate-"
"I know. I remember."
Ayda looks intrigued. "I wrote that you were a great wizard, and a good friend. I hear from other sources that you are the Elven Oracle. Perhaps you can shed some light on why the pages around yours are torn to shreds or redacted to the point of unreadability?"
Adaine places a gentle hand on Ayda's shoulder. "I don't know if you'd want that. You lost someone you cared about, so much that you thought it was better to forget her than to bear the pain of losing her."
Ayda considers this. "Is it better to forget?" she asks. "Would you give up the memories of those you lost, in order to keep a logical mind?"
"No. Not for anything."
"Then we should talk."
Adaine smiles. "I'd like that."
---2---
*end
Thanks for reading all the way through! I wrote most of this at 2am and the conclusion the next morning. Please take a reblog to share with your friends or drop a like to let me know you enjoyed - or hated - the story!
Ask me anything about it, please, I love discussing these kinds of theories!!!
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kykyonthemoon · 2 months
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rafayel and xavier with a reader that gets so stressed out she breaks down sobbing? 🥹
(and zayne if you want)
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Soothing
Thank you for requesting!
🌻 Character x F!Reader
Masterlist
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𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍
When you entered the studio, Rafayel was resting on the sofa with his eyes closed.
“You're back already? How was the meeting with your old friends?"
He got to his feet just in time to witness the pearl-like tears that were cascading from your eyes. You quickly wiped it away, but Rafayel immediately came to your side and held your wrist.
"What's wrong? Did someone bully you?”
You hiccuped loudly. Rafayel wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his arms. "Tell me. Who dares to make my bodyguard cry?
You leaned against Rafayel, a cheek pressed against his chest. His heart rate shot through the roof, then steadily stabilized. The sound of his heart pounding was what you loved listening to, as it soothed you.
Waiting for your sobbing to pass, then you added:
“Sometimes being around other people is so tiring.”
Rafayel took a small step back. His hands circled your neck and raised your chin just enough to make you meet his gaze.
“Are… Are you sick of me? You're about to leave me again, is that true?"
You had to giggle at the pathetic and sulky look on his face. Rafayel was drawn closer by your arms encircling his hips, and you said:
"No. I'm talking about my group of friends. As for you, Rafayel, you are not even human.”
“That's right.” Rafayel exclaimed as his face brightened. “Then you don't have to be sad. If you no longer have friends on land, you still have fish in the aquarium, and in the sea. Fishies are waaaayyyy better than humans. Especially a particular fish that knows how to draw, sing and make you laugh.”
This time you laughed out loud, cracking in the room filled with Rafayel's artwork. He was right; you always had him and the ocean for company. You did not have to try to please everyone, but just the people who were most important to you.
“Thank you, Rafayel.” With a little tiptoe, you kissed his cheek, causing his face to flush.
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𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓
As soon as you left the practice area, you caught a glimpse of Xavier waiting outside. You did your best to conceal the tears that were ready to fall, but they were still visible to him.
“What's the matter?”
"Nothing." With a forced smile, you replied. Of course, Xavier did not believe that.
“Are your test results not good?”
He had got you, so you just stared down at the ground. You were trying my best to stay calm, but all you wanted to do was cry out loud in his arms.
Seeming to know that, Xavier pulled you close. His hand gently stroked your hair, pausing now and again to pat your shoulder as a gesture of comfort.
“I… I've been practicing for months… And yet… I still couldn't pass that test…”
"It's not that bad. There haven't been many Hunters who had successfully completed that test. No need to be so harsh with yourself. You did very well, and you are always the best Hunter.”
Feeling Xavier's arms tighten, you sobbed again. It wasn't enough to simply aspire to the top; you also wanted to succeed in every test and every challenge. Given Xavier's level of expertise as a Hunter, you wanted to show that you were strong enough to accompany him and shield him without letting him worry about you everywhere, all the time.
Xavier waited for you to finish crying before gently suggesting:
“You know, getting plushies from claw machines is also a way to practice skills.”
“You just said that to cheer me up.”
However, when you thought about the cute plushies waiting to be taken home, you suddenly felt calmer. Why not, when the most adorable plushie in the world was standing in front of you, eyes wide open as if he was pleading with you to accompany him to the arcade?
“Are you sure you want to miss the special edition plushies this week?”
Xavier asked. You replied with a shake of your head.
"Of course you won't. Let's go then. The greatest Hunter in Linkon cannot be outplayed by any claw machine."
With a smile on your face, you held his hand. You might have failed this test, but you already won Xavier's heart.
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𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆
You did not say anything to Zayne the whole way home. Yet Zayne remained silent, concentrating on driving without even asking you a single question, even though he knew just by looking at your face, you had had a very bad day.
The intense work made you exhausted. You had been under constant stress for around two weeks straight. The number of Wanderers appearing more and more seriously caused you to take on extra shifts, but that was nothing compared to the paperwork you had to report, or the secret meetings that lasted for hours.
Somewhere in your crazy schedule, you still hoped to receive a call, a text message from Zayne. But when you saw nothing on the phone screen, your heart sank even though you knew Zayne's work was very busy these days.
In any case, you were grateful that he took you home and agreed to cook dinner for you today. You decided not to let your stress bother him. But as soon as he put the bag of food on the kitchen counter, Zayne pulled you back and gave you a strong embrace from behind.
“Z-Zayne?” You were startled and couldn't move because he held you so tightly.
“Now, can you tell me what’s on your mind?”
His whispering voice and his warm breath made one of your ears turn red. You were confused:
“You noticed?...”
There was a sigh coming from behind you. Zayne let go of you, then turned you around to face him.
“I didn't ask, because I expected you to tell me everything only when you wanted first.”
The number of patients visiting Akso Hospital has also increased dramatically in recent days. Regular overtime work was required of Zayne. Yet he still maintained a calm attitude in all situations. Every day and every hour, he always tried to be better, to save more people. You should do the same and become stronger.
You sat up straight to look into his eyes. A smile flashed across Zayne's lips. He lifted your chin and wiped your face with a tissue.
"Do not be sad. A smile is much better on your face."
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tailschannel · 5 months
Text
Sonic Dream Team to feature post-launch content and new music; game layout and narrative detailed in new interview
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The creative decisions behind the upcoming Apple Arcade exclusive, Sonic Dream Team, was detailed by SEGA HARDlight creative director Dan Rossati in a new interview with TouchArcade.
Here’s the news and notes...
Sonic Dream Team was developed across the span of two years.
HARDlight was able to craft the game’s narrative around Cream the Rabbit, and the studio is glad to see the positive reactions towards her return.
Soundtrack composed by Michiel van de Bos, responsible for songs from games like Deus Ex and Unreal Tournament, and composed music for Sonic Jump Fever.
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HARDlight plans to update the game post-launch to “keep it fresh," and support an “exhilarating flow state.”
They wanted the player to have maximum control across touchscreen and controller options.
Early on, I was waving my hands around, emulating rollercoasters and halfpipes, while enthusiastically trying to communicate what I meant by flow.
Their goal is to allow players to learn the controls quickly and to be able to speed run levels.
Inspiration was taken from the Adventure games, but those games were not directly replicated in Dream Team.
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HARDlight saw the opportunity to use Apple Arcade as a platform for a full 3D platformer on mobile.
Rossati thinks that the game has high replay value, with a high skill ceiling for speed runs and extra missions to complete.
When Apple Arcade launched, we were delighted it brought about the conversation of getting a true 3D Sonic platformer into the lineup. Having worked with Apple and the Apple Arcade platform previously for Sonic Dash Plus and Sonic Racing, we knew that Sonic Dream Team would be a great fit for our next game on iOS.
The creative director appreciates working with other like-minded SEGA and Sonic fans at HARDlight; wanted Dream Team to be reminiscent of the Sonic games he dreamt about as a child.
(story contributed by Spectre and MC for the Tails' Channel newsfeed.)
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h9rd-t6-miss · 2 months
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God hunter the parenting is just... Something deeply special.
It starts out loud, like all of Alfabusa and Ogre Poppenang's work does. Chapter one involves COCK-thorpe jokes and a jacket covered in wooden stakes. It involves jokes about DMT being a formidable defense against vampires and fortifying a picnic table. When Ogre Poppenang get loud, they get so, so incredibly loud.
And if that were all there was in these shows, they would be fourty minute entertainments that leave your mind as soon as you're done laughing at it.
But... There's more.
You catch glimpses of it here and there if you're not looking for it. Did the red and blue one just talk about genuine self-reflection in between cock jokes? Maybe. Maybe you misheard it. Does the short-shorts wearing loud one actually have honest warnings in between the mad yelling? Surely you imagined any depth to these characters, they're yelling about blenders!
But then. The story does something that it feels, strange, in today's modern media.
In between the jokes and the noise and the wonky animation... The stakes stay the same. They're always in dire danger, no matter the tone of the setting.
Even when he's on stilts clambering over a yard and looking absurd, Kitten is absolutely in danger of dying at every moment. Even when Kevin is yelling about magic vampire wizard powers, he is absolutely not kidding and will utilize them to kill. Even when Big D is making a god-awful concotion in a blender filled with nonsesne ingredients, it serves a legitamite purpose towards the family.
And the stories give everything SPACE. Space to breathe, to laugh, to cry, to be horrified. The lives of these people are horrifying and dangerous and absurd but they are still absolutely alive, not just cartoons.
You find yourself invested in the old relationship of Grimal, the overblown hyper weeabo and Kitten, the level headed hunter who still never takes off a blue hoodie and sky mask. You find yourself deeply touched by how much the literal and exact Door cares for his son, even if exposing him to the Hunter's lifestyle and indeed, Door's lifestyle, probably isnt the greatest thing.
You can really feel that the Hunters are true, three dimensional people that are written with so much care and expertise, and that their voice actors understand the characters at such a fundamental level.
You also begin to love the overall writing, where the authors show their true and incredible skill at balancing the zany humor of the WoD with the name of the setting, a world full of real darkness, where the shadows in the alley really do hold unspeakable terrors.
Not every joke will land, and the boldness of the caricatures will drive some people off. But there is so much more to this studio than anything I've seen in a long time, and for those who will stick around, prepare to fall in love with everything as much as the creators have.
Also, if you just want MORE of the absurd and delightful humor, Half-life:Zero Viscosity deserves all of the praise of HL:VRAI and MORE
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from-the-clouds · 1 year
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moonlight on the river - joel miller x reader
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masterlist | song inspo
summary: Joel has been many things to you. A dealer, a mentor, a friend, a lover. Lately, it’s the latter.  Sometimes he’s none of those things, or a handful of them, or all of them at once. And it’s up to the both of you to decide in the moment which things are true. Takes place during episode one of the TV series. pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 2.4k warnings: angst, fluff, good ol' fashioned hurt/comfort. depressive thoughts, reader sort of has a death wish, references to alcohol/drug abuse, death, loss of family members & loved ones. implied age gap, references to casual sex, heavy petting (no smut). a/n: it's been months since i posted a fic on here! some of my best work comes when it’s 2am, i’m emo and touch-deprived and i have an 8am appointment so i stay up until 5am to write. this was actually supposed to be fully a fluff piece but the angst queen had to strike.
You wish you could drown in the pile of blankets you’ve wrapped yourself in. Wish the couch would swallow you whole, like a whale, then drag you down to the deepest depths of the ocean and leave you there until you can’t hold your breath any longer, until the cold pricks the tips of your fingers and toes, until you succumb completely. 
But in some ways, you’re already existing like that, in the sea-level equivalent of the Marianas Trench. One of those sea creatures that look not of this Earth, features warped – adapting, evolving, surviving, despite your environment’s best efforts to eradicate. Your mother had once shown them to you in her old textbooks and shown you the photos of anglerfish, frilled sharks, phantom jellyfish. The memory of your mother makes you wince, and you try to think of something else.
How anyone else around you managed to put on a brave face and make their way through each day was beyond your comprehension, even though you do it, too. They probably all feel the same way about it as you do, but no one talks about the collective trauma you’re all slogging through. No one has anything new to add, and it’s foolish to believe that anyone’s insight could somehow take the pain away. Even if you have a chance to tell your story, there is always someone who has it worse. 
Get in line. 
Exhausted as you are, you don’t sleep much. Most of your nights are spent at the precipice of unconsciousness, and you can never quite make it over the edge, the helicopters, radios, sporadic gunfire always manages to rouse you first. When you do manage to sleep, you’re plagued with nightmares. You prefer perpetual fatigue. 
A knock at your door comes suddenly, and you start, sitting up quickly – but quietly – to not alert the unexpected guest that someone might be in the tiny studio you call home. It’s well after dark, which makes you doubt that whoever, or whatever is at the door, isn’t there for a friendly drop-in or a cup of tea, not that friendly drop-ins or cups of tea ever happened. 
But before you grow too panicked, your name is muttered, accompanied by another impatient rap of knuckles against the hollow wood. It’s a familiar rasp, even-toned and calm, and your shoulders sag in relief before you abandon your post on the couch. 
“Joel?” you ask softly, squinting in the dim light of the hallway through the crack in the door. He doesn’t look any different, though it’s been about a month since you’d last seen him. You’re not sure what to expect, but he’s the same as always, wearing a worn, tight denim shirt and fraying jeans. He looks tired, but you can’t recall a time when he doesn’t. Everyone looks tired all the time, it just only concerns you because it’s him. 
Not waiting for an invite, he steps through the small opening you allot for him and into your place, wordlessly.
“What the fuck, Joel, it’s past curfew are you trying to get yourself killed?” 
“I’ve done worse,” he says, dismissively, and yanks the door from your hand to close and lock it behind him. 
You don’t argue with him. You rarely do – which you think is partly why he likes you – but especially now, you don’t have the energy. And when you do, he’s too stubborn to listen. 
Joel has been many things to you. A dealer, a mentor, a friend, a lover. Lately, it’s the latter.  Sometimes he’s none of those things, or a handful of them, or all of them at once. And it’s up to the both of you to decide in the moment which things are true.
So when he steps forward, crowding you backwards until your rear hits your kitchen countertop and you have nowhere to go, you don’t ask questions. 
His hand cradles your chin, tilting it back to look into his sad eyes, and he kisses you. For a split second, it’s chaste, and you’re almost confused, until it’s suddenly not, and his grip on your jaw tightens, his lips parting. Joel stakes his claim, his free hand winding into your hair and pulling. You sigh, closing your eyes. 
He moves both his hands to cup your ass through the flimsy athletic shorts you’re wearing, lifting your hips up and against him, making to carry you to the bed, or maybe even take you on the countertop – it could be one of those days. Everything he’s doing would normally light you on fire, and there’s a primal instinct that’s telling you you like it, but for some reason, you hesitate.
Joel senses it right away. You’re not sure how. And you don’t want him to. You’re prepared to submit, even though you feel numb everywhere, because you hope for the chance to feel something, anything other than what you’ve felt the last few days. He pauses, too, pulls back. 
You expect to meet his eyes when you look up at him, but they are fixed on something else. Tugging on the collar of his shirt, you try to kiss him again, but he doesn’t budge, until you follow his eyes. An empty bottle of liquor sits on the bar behind you. Fuck.
“You’re drinking again.” It’s not a question.
“That was actually from yesterday,” you say, like it would make any difference. The remnants of a hangover have been tweaking your temples all day, biting the back of your eyes. It was half empty when I got it. It was just one night. I can have a couple drinks without getting out of control. Your brain cycles through several more excuses before you decide not to waste your breath. 
“What did I tell you about this?” He reached behind you and lifted the bottle, holding it in front of your face like you hadn’t been able to see it clearly enough before. 
“You should talk,” you don’t like being cruel, but you’re already desperate to end the discussion. He’s probably drunk or high right now, but it’s none of your business, and you’d given up trying to save him a long time ago. 
You shift your weight to lower yourself off the counter and move away from him and the once-inviting warmth of his embrace. Joel doesn’t let you make it far, reaching out to grip your upper arm and tugging you back to face him with little-to-no effort on his part. His strength always startled you, even though it shouldn’t, considering his size. It also should’ve scared you, but the manhandling mostly just turned you on. Not enough that you were going to keep letting him lecture you.
“It’s different. You’re still so young.”
“What does that matter?”
He doesn’t have an answer. 
You lift your chin, squaring up to him. “That’s what I thought.”
He puts his hand on hip and studies you carefully. Despite your attitude, you’ve never liked disappointing him. He’s the closest thing you have to a father, which you can recognize is an awfully fucked up way to feel about someone you regularly have sex with, but you lived in an awfully fucked up world.
There’s a wistfulness to Joel’s expression you’ve never seen before. He chooses to change the subject, and you’re thankful until what he says registers. 
“I’m leaving town tomorrow night. You might not see me again.”
It takes a moment to process, but it hits you like a blow to the gut. So hard, you’re surprised you don’t stagger backwards with the force of it. Even when it settles, you know it hasn’t even sunk in all the way.
“Well…” you take a long, thoughtful pause, and offer the only thing that your brain can come up with, “....stay safe out there, then.”
“Yeah,” he runs his tongue over his teeth and squints at you. “You want to tell me what’s going on?” 
Snorting, you know it’s important to remain as blase as possible so you don’t cry. Although, you don’t really cry anymore. Even when you want to, the tears never come. At some point, after watching every person you’ve ever cared for die in uniquely devastating ways, you must’ve reached your lifetime limit. 
“I know you. Something’s up.”
No, you don’t! You want to scream, but that would be a lie. It’s been three years since you met, maybe one since your….arrangement, or whatever you’d call it, had begun. 
How the two of you had become so close was a mystery even to you. It’s not like you were charming or charismatic, or willing to put up the innocent act. You didn’t try to inflate his ego, which most men loved. At first, you didn’t even really like him at all. That changed with time. Somewhere along the way, things just clicked.
“It’s nothing that no one has ever felt before,” you shrug. Joel has his fair….or rather unfair share of demons, and is the last person you want to complain to. Most of the time, he’s unflinchingly guarded, but he’s shared enough – secrets whispered in your ear while tangled in damp sheets, your hand on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart – to make you wonder if you have it so bad. Focusing on a fixed point, a crack in the tiled floor, you avoid his eyes.
“Hey,” his voice pulls you back. “Don’t do that.” 
“I’ll be okay,” you say. “I’m just having a d-a week.” A month, a year, a life. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze.
His face softens, his hand reaching to clasp with your own, thumb grazing across your palm. “Come here,” he murmurs. He pulls you against him tightly, tucking your head under his chin, his fingers weaving into your hair. 
“You’re going to be alright. You’re a strong girl.” He’s too smart to believe that, you think. But it doesn’t stop you from pressing your lips against his sternum. His broad chest is sturdy, firm, and you close down your eyes. 
Neither of you speak, and one of his hands begins to stroke your back in soothing circles. You stay wrapped in his arms for a long time. Long enough to think about how you might never get to do this again, and you suddenly want him in all the ways you never had him, and all the ways you had. Just one last time. 
He presses a kiss to your temple. “I can tell you’re exhausted, baby. Let’s get you to bed.”
There’s no reason to protest, he’s right, so you let him lead you to the bed. You’re already in your pajamas, and he draws back the covers and tucks you underneath them carefully. 
“You’re staying,” you say. It’s meant to be a question, but it comes out like command, and although you can’t stand the idea of pleading for it, would if you had to. You’re that desperate. 
You hear the clunk of his boots landing on the floor, feel the dip of his weight on the opposite side of the bed. 
“Of course,” he says softly, voice barely above a whisper as he slides underneath the covers. 
Joel’s arm snakes around your waist, and you’re being pulled back against his chest. You wriggle to be closer, even though it’s not possible, his nose resting on the crown of your head, stroking your hair softly. He’s being so tender, so sweet, it makes you feel sick.
“What if I don’t want you to leave?” you turn your head slightly, so you can see him out of the corner of your eye. You want to be able to remember his face, in case you never see him again. He was handsome, you’d always thought that, even despite the years between you. 
“It’s my brother. I don’t have much of a choice, baby.”
Joel had told you all about Tommy. You wished you could be resentful at his leaving to find his brother, but you knew you’d risk pretty much anything for the chance to see anyone in your family again. 
You shake your head. “This…sucks.” 
He offers a rare chuckle, one that vibrates through his chest and straight to the ache in your stomach that started when he told you he’d be leaving. “It does. I’m sorry.”
Joel sighs, his breath on the nape of your neck, and you shiver. “I’ll miss you.” It’s a simple truth you can hear in his voice without even needing to look in his eyes.
“I’ll miss you.” You reach for his hand. 
You roll over to face him, his head propped on his opposite hand, looking down at you. 
“You remember everything I taught you?” he asks. “Be smart, keep yourself safe.”
Joel had proven to be a pretty valuable resource when it came to survival skills. He’d taught you how to shoot a gun, to load and reload it, how to take it apart, clean it, and put it back together. You recalled the feeling of him leaning over your shoulder, adjusting your grip to shoot at a target. And even if most of his lessons in hand-to-hand combat resulted in him having his way with you on the kitchen floor – you didn’t mind it at all – you knew enough to defend yourself. 
“I do,” you answer. “And I will.”
You think of all the time you’ve spent with him the past few years. How it has made things bearable. It’s likely the last time you’ll ever see him, and you know what you’re supposed to say. But for the life of you, you just can’t say it.
Instead, you lean in to kiss him, lazy and lingering, both your hands on the side of his face, palms pressed against the scruff of his beard. You pull away after awhile.
“Tell me about what it was like. Before all this.” When the outbreak began, you were just a child. It felt like a dream, your memory so fuzzy it was hard to recall anything except the worst parts.
Joel does, and you listen, captivated, though it’s not the first time you’ve heard it. For such a gruff man, he paints a pretty picture.
It’s easy to imagine what your life might be like if none of this had ever happened. It would have been better, infinitely better, for yourself, for Joel, for everyone. It would be better, but if it hadn’t happened, you wouldn’t have met him. For some reason, something about that doesn’t feel right.
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hsr-texts · 9 months
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find your cinderella
꒰‧₊˚✩彡‧꒱ ┊ ━━━━ prologue
꒰⸝⸝₊ʚ♡ɞ ┊ streamer!reader x mystery hsr character ꒱
꒰⸝⸝₊ʚ♡ɞ ┊ otome event ꒱
꒰ ☰ WORD COUNT ┊1.4k ꒱
꒰ ☰ DESCRIPTION ┊ ━━ When you do an unboxing livestream for your subsribers, you find an invite to an exclusive event called the "Find Your Cinderella" masquerade gala where you are guaranteed to find your supposed true love, as a rather enthusiastic manager told you. ꒱
꒰ ☰ NOTES ┊HIII omg you guys THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT!! Getting 1k followers is so crazy for me because I've never had a blog be received with this much love and support before so I've decided to make an extra special otome game style fanfic! ꒱
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“Guys, look! The package just came in!”
You rushed into your studio, holding a sizable metal box. Inscribed on the sides was a logo of two masks, resembling a certain Aeon. Placing it down on the floor, you gave a sigh of relief. “Aeons, that was heavy!”
Your eyes glanced at the live chat and saw all the messages, curious about the package.
“Seems like you guys are more excited than I am,” You couldn’t help a small chuckle leaving your lips. “It took me quite a lot to get a hold of this limited edition package from LumiPro. Like, do you guys know how much it cost?”
A few comments popped up trying to guess the price.
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You shook your head. “100,000 credits.”
The chat then flooded with shocked emotes and comments. It was more than a fair reaction. You found yourself silently thanking the stars that your current occupation as a streamer granted you a steady income. Otherwise, you probably would’ve had to eat the same type of cup noodles for months.
“Anyway!” You clasped your hands together. “Let’s open it up already! I’m dying to see what’s inside. What could possibly warrant such a steep price?”
Your index finger pressed on the button at the top and heard a voice.
“Vocal identification. Please state your name.”
You uttered your name. It was a good thing you added an auto-censor to your setup so that any sensitive information that could get you doxxed would be redacted in the stream. You didn’t want stalkers showing up at your home after all.
“Permission granted.”
Faint clicks of metal against metal could be heard as the mechanisms worked to unlock the box. A hissing noise came from it as the lid opened. You watched, feeling anticipation and eagerness bubble within your chest.
A hologram was projected from the box, showing a person wearing professional attire. They smiled.
“Thank you for purchasing from Luminous Productions. We’ve curated a package that we believe would be of most use to you. For further questions, you may contact support on our site. We hope you enjoy it to the fullest.”
You took a peek and gasped at the sight. “Guys, oh my god, they just gave me a new PC!”
They must’ve done their research because you did mention in your stream a month ago that you were looking for a better PC.
The chat seemed to be as excited as you were, knowing this meant you’d be able to go back to your regular streaming schedule.
You could tell this was a real high end PC after seeing the graphics card and CPU model. Not only that, but it came with a new headset, keyboard, and mouse. You took out the stuff and gently placed them on the floor, letting the viewers see it.
After noticing that there was more in the package, you rummaged around for the other objects. Your hand made contact with some sort of fabric so you pulled it out.
Your eyes widened as you realised that it was a fancy outfit. Upon looking, you could estimate that it was your size too. Was this tailor made?
“Holy shit…”
It seemed like it was for a real special occasion, not even just your run-of-the-mill party that regular people go to. This outfit would probably fit right in with a red carpet event for rich folks or celebrities. Well— One may say, “Hey, aren’t you a celebrity too?” but you weren’t cocky enough to claim the same status as those with inter-galactic levels of fame.
A slip of paper fell out of the outfit’s pocket and you turned to see what it was.
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You squinted in confusion. A ticket…? After picking up, you couldn’t help but notice the holographic shine to it first. How pretty.
“Find Your Cinderella Masquerade Event?” You mumbled in confusion. Who was Sugo? You couldn’t recall knowing anyone that went by that name.
Suddenly, the screen flickered for a moment and a new window popped up next to your stream.
A person showed up, wearing what you could only describe as a pink clown outfit that somehow combines cuteness and gaudiness in one. They grinned at you with amusement.
“Heya to all those viewers watching at home!” Even the way they spoke seemed to have a theatrical ring to it. By the way the chat was going insane, the people watching the stream could also see them.
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“My name is Sugo and I’m the event organiser of the Find Your Cinderella Gala, or the FYC Gala for short,” they introduced themselves with a flourish. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“Uh… hi?” You didn’t know how to respond. This was quite a bizarre experience to have someone hijack your stream to introduce themselves. Was this legal…?
They chuckled. “Yeah, sorry for the sudden appearance but I figured that it would shake things up a little. I’m sure your dear fans appreciate having two exciting things happening at the same time. You can bet that this’ll go viral too~”
“Right… So what exactly is this Find Your Cinderella Gala?”
“Glad you asked, dear anomaly!” They beamed. Eh? Why were they calling you anomaly?
“See, I’m doing a collaborative project with LumiPro. I proposed to them a large-scale event with celebrities from all over the galaxy, which would be broadcast to every streaming platform out there. The premise is simple, all attendees are there to find their one and only, their true love, their Cinderella, you get the idea.”
“So it’s a speed dating event for rich people?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It sounded like a stupid idea. And yet, a part of you was intrigued.
“Right on the money! What a clever streamer, it’s no wonder you got such high compatibility ratings with the other attendees~”
“A what?”
Their eyes gleamed with amusement. “So, we didn’t just pick the celebrities at random. I bet you’re wondering why a small time streamer is getting an invite to such an exclusive event, right?” They tilted their head, leaning on their desk.
You nodded slowly. It was still a mystery to you why you’d be invited when there are far more famous people in the galaxy.
“Behind the scenes, we’ve been developing an advanced algorithm that can find your best match in a group. How it works is that we pick a participant, feed it available information on said participant, then it calculates how well the person would get along with those within the group,” they explained, “What’s interesting for your case is that your average compatibility score with the group is 90%. Most folks that got tested only came up with a 60% average compatibility rating.”
You raised an eyebrow at this in skepticism. “Don’t you think that’s just a bug or something?”
They shrugged. “It could be, but we’ve done several tests and it always came out the same. We were hoping to add you in to act as an outlier to our pool of data.”
“So I’m just a guinea pig for your weird little experiment?” You gave them an unamused look.
“It’s just to see if your results were really true or if it was just a mistake on the algorithm’s part.” They shrugged. “I’m sure it’ll be a fun time for you regardless of my motives. A win win for all parties involved, don’t you just love that kind of thing?”
“I guess but doesn’t this come with strings attached?”
Sugo whined. “Ughhh, you’re gonna make this way less fun if you go in already knowing what you’re getting!”
“What kind of sane person would do something without knowing the full details?!”
A groan came from them. “Booo, that’s so boring! Life needs a special surprise factor that keeps things fun and interesting.”
They sighed after. “But fine. If you’re so skeptical, then I can throw in a 500,000 credit compensation if you end up not enjoying it. So even if you do lose, you still gain something!”
You stayed silent, trying to figure out if this was really worth the trouble of dressing up and going to a party.
“Anyway, that’s all the information I’m contractually allowed to give out. It’s your choice whether you want to go or not.”
“Can I have some time to decide this?” You asked them.
Sugo nodded, smiling in amusement. “Of course! It’s not good for a show to spend too much time on exposition, after all. Let’s give the player some time to shine, hm?”
“I have no idea what you’re saying.”
They giggled, ignoring what you said. “Bye bye! I’ll see you at the gala!”
Their window disappeared, leaving you with your viewers again.
You sighed. What a strange person. Did you really wanna go? It’s not like you had much to lose. Plus, you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to find out what that compatibility rating was all about.
“What do you think, chat? Should I go?” You turned to the screen, waiting for their input.
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danihow · 3 months
Text
Love hurts
Han Seojun x producer!Reader True Beauty
Summary: Falling in love with someone who doesn´'t loves you suck, but it sucks more watching them hurt.
Word count: 1.7k
Warnings: unrequited love, han seojun is in love with jukyung, bad written, not proofread, angst.
A/N: i needed to do this to get this man out of my mind, my god why is he so perfect and so unreal.
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You never thought love could hurt, not when it was such a beautiful feeling.
Working as a producer has been your dream all high school, being scouted by a Move Entertainment agent as a freshly graduated person was probably the biggest blessing you've ever received in the last 5 years.
You still remember your first day at the company as an apprentice of the bigger producers, sitting at the back of their studio in the couch and watching them come up with ideas, lead the idols and modifying simple sound onto a whole ass song.
Your heart felt so full of emotions that day you swore you could've cried from happiness even thought you were mistreated by other staff, you remember vividly how your face hurt from smiling on the way home.
Your shoes clacking against the tiled floor echoed through the empty halls of the huge building, it still amuses you to this day the was the floor never seemed to get dirty, always reflecting as if it was a mirror.
However, even if you could spot everything on the floor you still missed the person you were walking into, your head colliding against his tall back, startling out of your mind.
"Yah!" A man's voice flooded your ears before your eyes looked up to who you have crashed into, locking with brown foxlike eyes. "How do you manage to bump into the only other person in the floor?" He says, looking into you intently.
He was the prettiest man you've ever met, and even that was an understatement. The way his eyes complemented the rest of his face, his dark hair in a mullet giving him a mysterious and cool vibe that was just highlighted by his all-black outfit. It was probably the most memorable thing about that day.
"I'm sorry." You mutter, bowing a bit and smiling apologetically.
"It's okay, just look where you're going." He tells you in something between a reprimand and some advice, between polite and cocky. "You're a producer?" He asks, more for him than for you as he spots your producer badge hanging from your neck.
"Oh, yeah, I started today. I'm L/N Y/N." You smile politely at him, who nodded and gave you a weird smile back.
"Nice to meet you L/N Y/N, name's Han Seojun." He said before he continued walking, a small greeting bow before looking away. "Have a good night."
As the weeks rolled by you learnt from your superior that Han Seojun has a new trainee and was already relatively famous as it was too. Your encounter with the boy becoming more and more frequent the more he started practicing and the more you advanced as a producer. The two of you becoming close work friends rather quickly.
As the months turned into years and the level of comfort grew between the two of you the more your feeling for him surpassed the limit of friends, his laugh enticing a newfound warmth in your chest anytime you heard it, his eyes appearing in your daydreaming more and more often. Everything about him changing in your eyes to something else. Nonetheless, as your feeling for him grew with your friendship so did the secrets you knew from each other.
Even though you like him a lot you knew very well how much he liked Lim Jukyung, and you couldn't get mad at it, she has been in his live for far longer than you and is just and angel to be around; if anything you would've fallen in love with her too if you were Seojun.
"Y/Nie, you have done more than enough with those tracks, go home." Your superior mentioned as he walked in the studio, passing you a bottle of water and sitting by your side.
"Something is missing..." you mutter, your back aching from sitting in the same chair for so many consecutive hours, mouse scrolling through the track in the monitor for the nth time in the past half hour.
"You can review it tomorrow, go and rest." He said once again, pulling you away from the computer, your hands stretching as far as they could to keep on working until you were out of reach. His hand grabbing the mouse and saving the track. "Go." His voice was stern but with a hint of fondness, a soft smile on his face as you oblige.
Grabbing you bag and saying your goodbyes you walked out of the studio, opting for using the stairs as your exercise for the day. Eight flight of stairs you were kind of regretting your choice, but you were no quitter, so you kept going. "God my back's killing me." You whisper for yourself as your rub your neck tiredly, putting your coat on until a sound picked up your attention.
Instantly your mind went back to that one-time Jukyung playfully told you she heard from her sister that there was a ghost around the building, seemingly having been haunted herself a few times. "Aigoo..." You mutter, freezing in place as your ears try to pick up the sound again; a few seconds pass and you hear it again, however it seemed to be a sob.
Concerned and a bit less scared you kept on walking down, careful to not disturb whoever it was that cried silently. A few floors down you were met with the figure of a man, sat down in the stairs as his body shook painfully as he cried, his soft sobs flooding your ears and you wished to all the heavens above you were mistaking the silhouette with someone else.
Please, don't be him.
You took a few steps down, the closer you got the clearer he became before your tired eyes. "Seojun?" You asked in a whisper, close enough to crouch down and place your hand on his shoulder.
It shouldn't hurt so much to see the way he flinched at both your voice and your touch, his hand flying to push yours off as his face refused to turn towards you.
With a sigh you sat down beside him, not a word leaving your mouth as you looked ahead of you, giving him the time to do whatever he wanted with his appearance before you looked at him, letting him know you are not forcing anything out of him but instead offering him your company.
A few seconds passed by, maybe a whole minute before he kept on crying, hand trying so hard to muffle his voice as his tears never stopped flowing down his cheeks. Slowly you turned to look at him, taking the time to take in his appearance before sighing again. It hurt a lot to see him so broken.
"It's okay to cry it out, don't silence yourself." You whispered softly, hand slowly reaching for his and taking it off his mouth, a sob immediately following after. "I can leave if you want me to." You said, giving him a few seconds to react, taking his silence and lack of eye contact as a sign and stood up.
"Wait.... don't go," he said in a choked voice, hand flying to grab your wrist, eyes finally looking up at you between his tears. "Please."
"You don't have to ask me twice." You say, a soft and sad smile on your face as your crouched down in front of him between his knees, hands resting now on top of his cheeks and brushing away his tears. "You wanna talk about it or just exist for a while?"
Your tone was so sweet and full of patience he just felt like crying again, sniffing he kept silent, eyes roaming through your face and not once finding your company insincere. "I let her go." He whispers back, his eyes appearing as an open book for you to read, his mouth pouting and his eyes tearing again. "It hurts."
"I know it hurts, and it hurt to love her too, didn't it?" You ask, brushing a few stray hairs off his face and behind his ears, a mannerism you took upon on as his hair grew between haircuts. "I'm so sorry."
"Why does it hurt so much?" He said while desperately looking into your eyes for an explanation, his own hand clutching his chest as if trying to take his heart out. "Why do I had to love her out of everyone?"
He sounded so broken, so exhausted of his feelings it made you teary too, a burning sensation starting at your throat threatening to choke your upcoming words.
"You don't choose who to love, just how she didn't choose not to love you." You mutter, blinking away the stinging in your eyes. "It's part of life as much as it sucks." You whisper, shuffling in your feet that hurt from crouching for so long. "Love hurts, it's dumb how much loving can hurt when it's such a beautiful feeling, huh?" You can't help but chuckle at your own words, how ironic.
"I'm sorry." He mumbles after a while, his hands brushing off the last of his tears as he has now calmed down a lot more, you still crouching in front of him, never once taking your attention away.
"Don't apologize for being human." With a smile your hands sneak up to grab his and stand up, pulling him with you. "Come on, let's go and get some air. away from this creepy stairway." With one of your hands you clean his face of, not wanting anyone to see he was crying as your other hand never loosens around his.
As you walked down the stairs with him trailing behind you Seojun couldn't help but notice how secure your hand held his and how your presence soothes him, a small grateful smile on his face.
"Thank you, Y/N." He mutters as you drag him along, not once yapping or complaining of this ruining his tough image as he would've done every other day.
"That's what friends are for." You smile at him over your shoulder, because even if Han Seojun doesn't love you back, love hurts and it's part of life.
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