#and he would have given Lambert the chance to say goodbye

[spielzeugkaiser]

[MASTERPOST]

They have a talk! Lambert knows something is up by now, since the calls and text messages from Jaskier get rarer and rarer - and most of the time it's Geralt who writes back; but he probably thinks Jaskier is having a hard time with mental health.

#jaskier #geraskier #geralt of rivia #the witcher #geralt x jaskier #aiden #lambert #onlyfans!jaskier #eskel #vesemir #geralt is very quiet in this #cancer cw #illness cw #death cw #they are having a hard talk #and like storywise it's clear Jaskier makes it in the end and is mostly okay - but he did (mentally) give himself and Geralt some prep #and he would have given Lambert the chance to say goodbye #but otherwise? while it's still not clear? at this point: nope #lambert in the AFTERMATH is a whole different story

[watchmegetobsessed]

ALL IS FAIR

a/n: woohoo!! finally a harry fic! lol sorry i got very into marvel these past weeks but im finally bringing you some harry content! this one was originally requested by an anon sometime and then we kept talking about it until i actually got around to write it! hopefully you’ll like it and if you do, please like and reblog!

pairing: ceo!Harry x ceo!plussize!reader

warning: sexual content

word count: 16.7k

masterlist

“Stop being such a stuck up dick, it’s your birthday, bro!”

Harry rolls his eyes at his friend who walks into his penthouse as if he owned. Niall Horan was so well-known in Harry’s building that he could have easily walked into any homes in the tower and people would still welcome him warmly. It might have a few things to do with the fact that half of the residents in the Compass Tower are women who are hopelessly in love with either Niall or Harry, hoping for a chance to drag either of them into their bed one day. They have a lot more chance to do that with the Irish bloke than with Mr. Styles. Not that Harry doesn’t find them attractive, but he is not the type to have one night stands, something his friend gives him quite a lot of shit for.

“Would you fuck off for twenty more minutes?” Harry sighs, shooting him a look as he covers the speaker of his phone, in the middle of a call.

“You have ten minutes and we are leaving. I’m not letting you work on the night of your thirtieth birthday!” Niall warns him before walking into the kitchen to roam the always full, neatly stocked fridge.

As much as Niall Horan comes off as an irresponsible cocky child, he is quite the businessman himself as well. As the Lawyer of one third of New York’s most influential people, he surely doesn’t have to worry about making a living, enjoying his luxurious apartment a few streets away from Harry’s place on the Upper East Side. It’s not as expensive and impressive as Harry’s penthouse on the top of the tower his father built in the heart of the posh neighborhood most people only know from TV shows, but he couldn’t complain.

“Another designer refused to sign with us, H. We are running out of options,” Lambert’s voice rings through the phone as Harry turns to the floor to ceiling window, staring out to the city skyline in front of him.

“We have quite a few left, right?” Harry asks clenching his jaw.

“Yeah, but I heard that Cometa is planning on announcing something big next week so I think a lot of them are waiting for that to happen.”

“Do you think it’s another collab? But they just had fucking Chanel have a line sold through them!” Harry growls, his blood boiling at even just the thought.

When it comes to fashion in the virtual world, there are two businesses that totally dominate the industry. In the men’s wear, Twisted is definitely the number one selling place. The idea started off as just a freshman school project that originally wanted to sell tech stuff, but a few years into the project Harry met Lambert who was already a rising star in the fashion industry and they joined forces, creating the most classic yet affordable and user friendly online empire: Twisted. Though Twisted mostly features men’s clothing, they’ve been trying to venture to the field of women’s fashion, but it hasn’t been as easy as they thought it to be. And the reason for that is Cometa.

Cometa was originally a website where anyone could sell their own clothes, make their online wardrobe sale. But eventually the business grew itself out and stepped up a few levels, collaborating with various designers and brands, selling exclusive lines and a highly praised seasonal variety four times a year, earning a well-deserved top spot in the online fashion industry. It’s hard to compete with what Julia Bianchi built up through sweat and blood and Harry Styles has been working on stepping up to be a major competition for Cometa in women’s fashion, with not much luck so far.

To top the cake with a delicious looking cherry, Cometa has been trying to set feet into men’s fashion as well in the recent years, bringing out several lines with some mentionable designers, but they never made it be as big as Twisted. The two businesses have been trying to outdo each other for about a decade now, with not much luck so far and Harry’s patience is running low by now.

“I don’t know what it is, but keep an eye out. I’ll call you on Monday, alright?” Lambert sighs through the line.

“Okay, thank you,” Harry nods, feeling a little defeated.

“And happy birthday, man. Go and celebrate!” he chuckles, making Harry’s lips curl up as well.

“Thanks, have a good weekend,” Harry bids his goodbye before the call ends.

Wandering into the kitchen Harry finds Niall with the thickest ham and cheese sandwich between his hands, sitting at the kitchen island.

“So where exactly are we going tonight?” he asks, grabbing himself a granola bar as he joins the Irish lad on the stool next to him.

“Oh, that’s a surprise,” he grins, mouth full as he chews mercilessly. Harry grimaces, not sure how this is the same man who can convince a judge about basically anything, wearing his designer suits, putting on an intimidating and serious act for his cases.

“I have a switch,” Niall once told him when he asked how he does it. “I just turn it off when I’m off the clock.”

“You know I hate surprises,” Harry informs him matter-of-factly, but Niall doesn’t seem to be bothered by his comment.

“You’re thirty now, no one cares what you hate.”

“Says who?” Harry huffs.

“Me,” he grins, making Harry roll his eyes.

The bass is throbbing, red tinted lights illuminating the exclusive bar in the heart of Manhattan where Niall chose to gather some of Harry’s close friends to celebrate his thirtieth birthday. Sitting in the leather couches at a restricted area at the back of the place, they are hidden enough not to draw too much attention to themselves but still feel like they are part of the party.

“Cheers to three decades of this cocky motherfucker!” Niall beams as their glasses meet in the middle, everyone laughing and wishing Harry a happy birthday before they all chug their drinks.

Harry is not necessarily the type of person to enjoy going out too often, but he admits it’s been a while since the last time he let loose. It feels nice to have the evening to himself, leaving the business behind for just a couple of hours before he returns to his busy everydays.

Though the occasion is Harry’s birthday, Niall is surely enjoying the evening a tad bit more than his friend. After Harry sees him send down three tequilas in a row he realizes it’s not gonna end well if he doesn’t get some water into his system as well. Excusing himself from the group he heads to the bar, pushing his way through the dancing bodies until he finally reaches his destination.

Given how it’s a Friday evening, the place is packed and he waits in the line patiently while the bartender is fixing up the order of a group of girls a few stools down from Harry. Leaning onto the counter Harry runs his gaze over the dancing crowd, tapping his fingers against the surface to the beat, even bopping his head a little when he feels a push from behind him.

“Oh, sorry!” A female voice calls out and as he turns around he spots the owner of it, a young woman, her curvy body wrapped in a tight mini dress that leaves very little to Harry’s imagination as his eyes run up and down her figure. He has never seen a curvy girl as confident as her, she is radiating, drawing every male’s attention to herself like she is feeding off the hungry stares and dirty thoughts birthed by her.

Her eyes meet Harry’s gaze and the sly smirk that tugs on her perfectly shaped lips gives it away that she is not that sorry to be bumping into him.

“No worries,” is all he manages to say, the urge to drop to his knees right then and there stronger than anything he has ever had to fight.

“He won’t notice you,” she tells him and his eyebrows knit together in confusion. “The bartender. If you just stand there like that… he will never come here,” she explains.

“I’m not sure I have what catches his eyes,” he jokes, making her laugh and he swears his stomach drops at the heavenly sound.

“May I?” she arches an eyebrow and Harry nods, letting her step in front of him. He stands tall above her, eyes fixed on her figure as she leans onto the counter, the marble pushing her breasts up just enough to spark the bartender’s fantasies when he glances in her way. She waves at him with a charming smile and a moment later the guy is standing in front of her, ready to please her in any way she desires.

“Three vodka sodas and…” she turns in Harry’s way, her lips slightly parted and his breath hitches in his throat. “What did you want, handsome?”

“Just, uhh—Just two water, please.”

Her eyebrows rise, but she doesn’t comment on it, just adds the two water to her order. The bartender nods and disappears to fix up her drinks. Harry takes a deep breath and sticking his hand out to her he introduces himself.

“I’m Harry, by the way.” She takes his hand, shaking it firmly.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you, Harry. Are you here alone?”

“Um, no. I’m here with a few friends,” he replies nodding towards the back of the place. “Are you here with someone?”

Please don’t say your boyfriend, please!

“A few of my girlfriends,” she smiles, brushing her hair over her shoulder, flaunting a better look at her naked neck and just one glimpse is sending a whirl of dirty thoughts into Harry’s mind. He wonders how soft her skin would feel under his lips, what her moans would sound as he sucks on it, leaving a mark on her, letting every man in the house know that he made her feel good.

“Are you guys celebrating something?” Y/N asks, a knowing smile on her lips as she most definitely saw Harry staring at her.

“Actually, yeah,” he chuckles a little nervously. “It’s my birthday.” Y/N’s eyes brighten up as she beams at him.

“Really? Happy birthday then!”

“Thank you,” he smiles shyly. “Are you guys celebrating something too?”

“Well, I…” she starts, her thoughts wandering off for a second before she continues. “I kind of got promoted,” she explains and Harry smiles down at her warmly.

“Congrats then!”

The bartender returns with the drinks and she is already about to get her card from her little clutch when Harry pulls his card out, handing it over to the guy behind the bar.

“Birthday boys shouldn’t pay for others,” she smirks, but doesn’t try to fight him that hard.

“You can pay me back later,” Harry shrugs with a suggestive smirk on his lips. He doesn’t want to part ways with her, but she is obviously expected to be back with her friends and he needs to get back to Niall as well before he absolutely loses control. Stepping closer to him, Y/N slides a hand up his chest, her palm resting at the base of his neck as she leans to his ear.

“Save me a dance, birthday boy?” she murmurs into his ear, her lips brushing against him for a split second before she steps back, grabs her drinks and winking at him one last time she disappears from the bar. Harry stands there for a few more seconds before the bartender hands him back his card and snatching the waters from the bar he heads back to his friends.

 Luckily, Niall is slowing down a little, The water does him well and Harry finally doesn’t feel like he’ll have to take care of him, dragging him home once the night is over. Sitting by the table Harry is trying to focus on the conversation, but his gaze keeps wandering over to the dance floor, looking for one particular curvy figure in the sea of dancing bodies.

It takes him some time to spot her, but when he does, he is not able to tear his eyes away from her.

She is almost perfectly in the middle with her friends surrounding her, lips and shoulders swaying to the rhythm perfectly. He catches her chug down the last sips of her drink before she disregards the glass and gets back to dancing. Watching her every move intently, Harry feels his lips slightly part at the sight of this angel who is for sure a devil in the sheets. He can’t stop himself fantasizing about what it would feel like to dig his fingers into her thighs, kiss her neck, her cleavage that’s on show now, how her curves would fit into his hands perfectly. He wants to praise this woman, make her feel good and not just because he wants to be selfless and please her, but also because seeing this woman reach her high because of him would be the biggest ego boost for him and he just needs that.

“Go dance with her!” Niall wiggles his eyebrows at him when he catches Harry staring at her.

“What? No, I’m not a dancer,” he shakes his head, shifting his eyes away from the dancing goddess on the dance floor.

“Oh come on, don’t be a pussy!”

“I’m not a pussy, I just—“

“You’re a pussy. I saw her looking in your way as well, she wants your dick!”

“Jesus, Niall!” Harry whines rolling his eyes. He doesn’t like it when he gets so vulgar, but luckily no one heard their conversation. Glancing back in Y/N’s way Harry sees how men are eyeing him, probably building up the courage to go up to her and that has his blood boiling. He needs to be the one to touch her.

Chugging down the rest of his drink he snaps the glass on the table before standing from his seat, ignoring Niall’s cheering as he makes his way into the crowd.

Harry didn’t lie when he said he is not a dancer, he feels uncomfortable, awkward and uncoordinated most of the times he tries to dance, but he is pushing all of those to the back of his mind for now as his eyes are set on one person in the crowd.

When Y/N spots the man approaching her, she can’t push a pleased smile off her lips, slowing her movements down as Harry finally reaches her, leaning closer to her ear so she can hear his voice over the music.

“Here to collect that dance,” he smugly tells her, making her laugh, though the music is too loud to let him hear her. She just nods and turning around she presses herself up against him, her backside fitting his front perfectly. Harry’s hand snake around her waist, his large palm smoothly moving through the silky fabric of her dress as they start moving together.

She is intoxicating, makes Harry feel like he is some kind of horny teenager, like he hasn’t dealt with women before, but in a way, she makes all of his past flings appear to be only girls. Her confidence in her own body is easily one of her best traits, the way she handles herself, moves her body, the look in her eyes, Harry is getting drunk on just watching her and now he is able to touch her as well.

When he feels himself getting hard in his pants, he knows he should be at least a slightly bit embarrassed by himself, but as Y/N turns around in his arms and he sees the pleased smirk on her lips, the feeling vanishes in a heartbeat. She wraps her arms around his neck as she pulls him close, her lips brushing against his lips.

“Enjoying yourself, birthday boy?” she prompts before pressing a kiss to the soft skin under his ear and he can’t hold a growl back. The friction is almost unbearable, as his hands slide lower on her back, stopping on her ass, he knows he won’t be able to control himself any longer. Luckily, he is not the only one having this inner fight.

Snapping around Y/N grabs his hand and starts pulling him through the crowd towards the hallway of the bathrooms. He follows her eagerly, lucky for them, the club doesn’t have restrooms with several stalls, but single bathrooms with a lot more comfort and privacy. Just what they need right now.

They find the third bathroom empty, pushing their way inside and locking the door before Harry pushes her up against it the moment it’s just the two of them, their mouths hungrily meeting in the middle. He almost grunts against her lips, she tastes even better than he imagined and the way her tongue is the first one to come into action has got his mind blown. His hands roam up her body, running up all her curves until they reach her face and he cups it in his palms, pressing his hips against her. She moans against his mouth when his hard cock pokes against her, both of them desperate to take it further.

Tumbling further into the small bathroom, he helps her up to the counter next to the sing, her legs instantly opening for him, her tiny dress rolling up her thighs, revealing her clothed sex. Harry eagerly kisses his way down her neck and chest, her skin feeling so smooth under his lips. His fingers hook under the thin straps of her dress, tugging them down so he can push the dress past her full breasts and thank God she is not wearing a bra underneath!

“Fuck me, you are so hot!” he breathes out, making her chuckle at his reaction.

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” she cockily answers before Harry’s mouth attaches to her nipple, his hand working on her other breasts before he switches.

He quickly gets down on his knees, pushing her underwear to the side before his lips and tongue meet her sensitive clit.

“Oh shit!” she moans, a hand coming to tangle in his hair while she tries to hold herself steady with leaning on the other one behind her. There’s no time for teasing now and they both know that.

She is so lost in the experience, Harry is licking and sucking just the right spots and she tries to close her legs, locking his head between her thighs. His arms come to curl around them, ring clad fingers digging into her flesh and the situation might be a little suffocating for him, but he doesn’t mind it a bit. In fact, if he died this way, he would die a happy man.

She doesn’t let him finish what he started, pulling him up, his lips still glistening from her own juices as she kisses him messily, wiggling herself out of her underwear while he undoes his pants as well.

“Shit, do you have a condom?” he breathes out when his palm wraps around his throbbing cock. She nods, reaching for her clutch she dropped to the counter and digging into it she grabs the package, smacking it against his chest playfully. “Were you planning to do this tonight?” he grins cockily as he rips the package open and starts rolling it down his hard length.

“No, I’m just smart, unlike you,” she retorts, her sass dripping from her tone and it just riles him up even more.

Grabbing her thighs he yanks her to the edge of the counter, a gasp leaving her plump lips as she tries to find her balance quickly.

“Don’t be a brat,” he growl against her lips before kissing her, while he lines himself up with her, the head already pushing in.

“Then fuck me, birthday boy,” she challenges him again and it’s the last straw.

Harry slams into her, both of them moaning at the sensation before he starts thrusting in a fast pace, needing all the friction he can make to get them to finish as soon as possible. Y/N’s head falls back as she holds onto the back of his neck, her other hand on the counter behind her again and Harry glances down, watching her breasts bounce every time he rails into her, slamming his whole length into her every time their hips meet.

She reaches for one of his hands that’s holding her thigh and she boldly brings it to her core, tapping his fingers to her clit, letting him know that she wants some extra effort. Harry doesn’t say it, but he is blown how she didn’t just do it herself, she made him do it. It’s got to be one of the hottest things he has ever seen.

“Fuck, go harder!” she gasps, wrapping her legs around his waist as he picks the pace up, feeling his orgasm building rapidly with each thrust.

They both are a whimpering, moaning mess, the bass of the music is thumping outside and for a moment, Harry feels like he is finally living his life to the fullest.

“I’m gonna cum!” she breathes out, his name falling from her lips moaning after that and when she pulls him down to kiss him, biting into his bottom lip and tugging it, he loses himself.

He feels himself jerking inside her, still sliding in and out of her as he grunts, releasing himself into the condom. He flicks his fingers on her clit at the same time, creating just enough friction to push her over the edge as well. He is coming off his own high when her walls tighten around his cock, dragging his orgasm out even longer as she basically screams, gasping for air, riding her orgasm out to the last bit.

Leaning down he kisses her again though they are still panting, this time making it a lot less rushed than the time their lips met for the first time. Her legs fall from around his waist and he pulls out, both of them cleaning themselves up in the aftermath of their little session.

“I know this was quite rushed and all that, but can I have your number?” he asks, even feeling a little nervous. She puts her underwear back on, smoothing her dress down as she smiles up at him, cupping his face in her palm.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to skip on that,” she tells him simply, shocking him for sure.

“D-Do you have a boyfriend or something?”

“No,” she shakes her head and now Harry is confused.

“You didn’t enjoy it?” he then asks, trying his best to figure out the reason behind the rejection.

“I did. But it was a one time thing. If it’s supposed to turn into more…” she sighs, grabbing her clutch from the counter. “Then I’ll leave it to fate if we ever meet again,” she shrugs before turning around she just unlocks the door and walks out, leaving Harry stand there in complete and utter shock.

This is definitely a first for him, a woman who doesn’t want to see him again. He is not that egoistic to think that everyone is in love with him, but he never had an encounter similar to this. Not after the most amazing sex ever.

Harry fixes himself up, still not believing she walked out that easily, but there’s not much he can do now. Walking back to his table, he acts like nothing happened and when his eyes scan over the crowd again, he can’t see her anymore.

Harry lets out a tired sigh when Zayn, head of the graphic design department walks into his office with a familiar brown paper bag with the logo of Harry’s favorite Chinese restaurant.

“Has it started already?” Zayn asks, though glancing at the big screen on the wall he can see the stream is still waiting to be started.

“No, I’ve been staring at it for like twenty minutes,” Harry grumbles, pushing himself away from his desk to join Zayn on the couch in front of the screen as he unpacks the food. “What do you think it’s going to be?”

Today is the day of Cometa’s big press conference and no one knows what they are about to announce. It’s been keeping Harry on the edge for the past few days, because whatever it is, it has got to be major. Julia Bianchi is not the type of person to hold press conferences, she is a private person who has managed to keep most of her life behind closed doors. That’s something Harry admires in the woman even though they are competitors in the business. He can relate to wanting to keep her life just for herself, he has been doing the same thing. No public appearances, no lengthy interviews, no photoshoots. He likes to let his work talk for himself and it’s proved to be a successful move so far.

“I don’t know, but I hope they don’t suddenly announce a full graphic makeover right before our update,” Zayn chuckles. He has been working on an entirely new appearance for the website these past weeks and it’s supposed to go live sometime later in the month. A change for Cometa would totally throw their attempt off, making them look like they are just copying Julia’s move.

They eat and wait for the stream to start when the screen finally comes alive. There’s an empty stage shown with just two mic stands in the middle and nothing really happens for a few minutes before clapping is heard from behind the camera and Julia finally walks on the stage.

The woman is a real diva. Wearing a matching pant suit with bold floral print all over it, her short hair is neatly straightened into a bob cut, her red lips smiling lightly as she waves around in the room. Julia has been in the fashion industry for almost three decades now and she surely made a name for herself, sitting front row in every fashion show she attends, her words on any new trend being basically the standard.

Stepping to one of the mics, she clears her throat as the clapping dies down and her calm, gentle voice rings through the speakers.

“Welcome, everyone, thank you for coming, as you might already know I’m Julia Bianchi, head of Cometa, the world’s best online women’s fashion house.”

Harry leans back in his seat, eyes fixed on the woman on the screen as he is patiently waiting to hear what she’s got for the people this time.

“I’ve spent twenty-seven wonderful years in the business, building my own one for the past two decades. I fell in love with fashion as a child and moved to Milan to study designing from the bests. Though designing has always and will always hold a special place in my heart, I saw an opportunity in the early years for a brand that would hold together every other brand in the industry, bringing it to everyone’s home thanks to the rapidly developing technology. Cometa has always been my little baby and I’m proud of everything I achieved as head of such a great company.”

Harry realizes what it’s about before Julia could even say the words herself. The phrasing, the nostalgic tone, it’s all adding up to the obvious: Julia is about to announce her retirement.

“I gave the best years of my life for this company and I regret nothing, but recently I’ve realized that it is time for me to slow down for a little bit and enjoy a life that’s not filled with work anymore, and spend more time with my beloved husband, Fabio and my family who supported me on my long way here. Therefore, I am now announcing it with an aching heart and a lot of excitement as well that I am stepping down from my role as CEO of Cometa. I might be leaving now, but my business will not. So it is a pleasure to introduce you the person who will carry my legacy on, my amazing niece, the absolutely most perfect woman to carry on the work I started, Y/N Y/L/N.”

The moment another woman comes into the picture Harry almost chokes on his own saliva, seeing the same curves he had his fingers dug into last Friday. Y/N smiles and waves around as she steps to the other mic next to her aunt, exchanging a short look with her before turning towards the people in the room and the camera that’s streaming the event.

“Dude, you alright?” Zayn asks, patting Harry’s back a few times as he is still struggling to breathe normally.

He refuses to accept that the woman he fucked in a bathroom on his birthday, the one that made him moan like never before, is the same woman who is going to take over his biggest competitor.

“This has got to be a joke,” he breathes out with teary eyes from all the coughing.

“It is an honor to be here,” Y/N starts speaking as the clapping dies down once again and the two men are staring at the screen. “Just like to be the one to step into the perfectly stylish shoes of my aunt. I hope to live up to not just her and everyone else’s expectations, but also to mine as well. I grew up watching my aunt build up this empire with basically dust so to be the person to take her place is a dream come true. I promise to keep the quality the same and work on improving Cometa to its possible best while being in charge.”

As she finishes talking, questions are thrown in her way, but Harry doesn’t pay attention any longer. Standing up he walks to the window, staring out to the city as he chews on his bottom lip anxiously.

“What the fuck is your problem, H? It wasn’t as bad as we expected, right?” Zayn questions.

“It’s fucking worse!” he snaps turning around. “I can’t believe this is happening to me.”

“Would you just tell me what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that… I told you about what… happened on my birthday.”

“The bathroom fuck, oh yeah,” Zayn chuckles with a playful shine in his eyes.

“Well, that woman… the woman I fucked was her.” Zayn stays silent for a moment before he turns towards the screen, eyeing the woman on the stage as she is still answering questions, standing confidently in her tight, black dress and red heels.

“You fucked Julia Bianchi’s niece? And she is now taking over Cometa?” he raises his eyebrows at Harry who just nods, pressing his lips together into a thin line. “And she is also the one who didn’t give you her number?”

“Don’t… bring that up. But yes, it’s her.”

Zayn starts laughing, clearly finding Harry’s misery entertaining, but Harry doesn’t feel like taking it that easy. He wonders if she knew who he was, if she did it on purpose or it was fate’s horrible joke on both of them.

“Ah man, that charity event on Saturday will be one hell of a show then!” Zayn points it out and Harry’s face falls. He totally forgot about the charity event he was invited to, one that would have the biggest names in the fashion industry together in a ball room to raise money for a chosen good cause. It happens every year and it’s a major event, the perfect place to network and also to see your biggest enemies. That means that Harry will see Y/N again in a few short days and if he is being honest… he is not ready to face her, not after the information he learned today. Sighing he steps to the minibar he insisted on having in his office and though he never drinks during the day, he now thinks that now might be an exception. He pours himself some whiskey and before he chugs it down at one go, he lets out a long, tired sigh.

“That’s just my luck…”

Leslie helps you with the zipper of your dress, the silky, red fabric hugging your body like a second skin. She smoothes the wrinkles out while you fix the straps, staring back at yourself in the mirror with judgment. You need to look perfect, this is going to be your first time appearing at an event as CEO of Cometa, your big entrance into the industry, you can’t let anything go wrong.

“You look gorgeous, babe,” Leslie smiles at you, bringing your hair behind your shoulders as her eyes meet yours in the mirror. Leslie might be your assistant, but she is a lot more than that. You’ve been friends for almost a decade and when she lost her job a few years ago you didn’t hesitate to offer her a spot next to you. You wouldn’t be here without her, she doesn’t try to use her privilege of being your friend to not do the work, she is always on top of her game and you’ll always be grateful for her to not make it awkward at all.

“I think you need some diamonds though,” she winks at you, stepping to the table where all kinds of jewelry is sprawled out. She reaches for a simple one, not too much, quite elegant and you nod as she holds it up for you. Walking behind you she brings it around your neck, the diamond brilliantly sitting on your chest now, giving that little extra shine to your outfit.

“You’ll make every man fall in love with you,” she smiles at you and breathing out you nod, hoping to believe that everything will go perfectly.

While you make a few last minute calls she gets dressed as well before the car arrives for the two of you. She is wearing a less daring but still beautiful black dress, her curly hair pinned up into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, her heavily freckled face bright from her happy smile as the two of you make your way to the event.

“I know it’s ridiculous, but I tried to memorize the faces and names from the guest list,” she grins at you, earning an eyeroll.

“Les, I told you, this is not The Devil Wears Prada,” you chuckle softly. She is obsessed with that movie and hasn’t shut up about feeling like she is literally living in it since your aunt has shared her plans with you about your future position last year.

“I know, but it might be impressive if you already knew everyone!”

You have to give that to her, it would earn you a few good points if you knew the names already, you’re just still nervous about the whole thing. So many things could go wrong and you want it to be perfect.

 At first you feel intimidated by all the influential people around you. Everyone here is one of the bests in their own field and you feel like an impostor, but then you remind yourself that you earned your spot. Your aunt wouldn’t have given you the company if she didn’t trust you entirely with it. You worth no less than anyone else in this ball room and that reminds you that… you’re that bitch.

Leslie’s knowledge of names actually comes handy. You love seeing people get shocked when they try to introduce themselves to you, but you already greet them saying their names. It earns you some appreciative looks as you make your way around the room. Everything is going smooth, right until you spot one particular man in the crowd.

You’re in a little circle with a few designers when your gaze falls on Harry who is standing across the room, talking to two men. The champagne almost slips from your hand when you realize it’s him.

“Leslie,” you grab her wrist catching her attention. “Les, who’s the man in the blue Gucci suit?” you ask in a whisper and she follows your gaze, finding the man in talk.

“Oh, that’s Harry Styles, head of Twisted.”

“Fuck,” you mumble under your breath as you quickly excuse yourself from the conversation and head out to the balcony to get some fresh air before you faint right on the spot.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Leslie follows you.

“I messed up,” you squeak as you step outside, the chilly evening air hitting your uncovered skin immediately. “I messed up big time!”

“What? Why? What happened?”

Stepping to the edge, you wrap your hands around the railing, staring out into the void for a moment. Leslie Stands beside you, quite puzzled about your sudden panic.

“Remember the guy I told you about from Friday night?” you ask, keeping your voice down even though there’s no one really around. Leslie nods. “Well… he was the guy.”

Leslie glances back inside and then at you before her eyes widen and lips part in shock.

“You fucked Harry Styles at a club’s bathroom?!” she whisper-yells at you and you feel like a teenager who is getting scolded.

“I didn’t know who he was! And I genuinely think he didn’t know me either, how could he?! But now he is here and… Oh God, this is so bad,” you whine, your head dropping backwards as you let out a frustrated growl.

“Okay, don’t panic. Maybe… maybe he doesn’t remember you.”

“You can’t make me believe he doesn’t remember me after fucking me on a counter,” you tell her giving her a look.

“Alright, alright. Then… you just have to suck it up. It’s not like you can unfuck him,” she shrugs and though you know she is right, you just wish you could leave right now.

You never planned on seeing him again. Your bullshit speech about letting fate decide it was just an excuse to not give him your number. You didn’t want to because you thought he is not the kind of man that would be good for you. From his look you thought that he was either a fuckboy, not willing to commit to anything serious, or the kind of man that seems all nice and respectful at first but then turns out to be a total asshole and you’ve had enough of those in your twenty-eight years.

Soon enough you head back as the auction is about to start. Luckily, your seat is far away from Harry and it seems like he hasn’t noticed you yet. Though you wish to keep it that way, you can feel it coming already.

The auction goes by fast, you buy a new painting that will look amazing in your living room and almost twice as much money is raised through the evening that was the goal. You leave Leslie behind at the table as you go to the bar to get yourself another drink, probably your last one of the evening if you don’t want to end up making a fool out of yourself.

Patiently waiting at the bar you’re already thinking about watching Grey’s Anatomy when you get back and out of this tight dress. You look hot, but it’s not the comfiest look, if you’re being honest. There’s only one more person in front of you when you feel a little tap on your shoulder and turning around your stomach drops when you see the man you’ve been trying to avoid all evening.

“Fancy seeing you here, Y/N,” he nods shortly, his expression is quite blank, but he is definitely not shocked to see you. You tighten your jaw before looking away from him, squinting your eyes a bit.

“You don’t seem surprised,” you point out.

“I was kind of expecting to see you here tonight.”

“So you knew who I was all along?” you snap at him, but he shakes his head.

“Not until the stream this week. I was pretty shocked when you walked on stage.”

Nodding shortly you brush your hair over your shoulder and you catch Harry glimpsing down your body, but decide not to comment on it.

“Did you know who I was?” he then asks, digging his hands into his pockets.

“No, I wouldn’t sleep with my biggest competitor willingly.”

“Just from the abrupt ending I had a feeling that you might have known me.”

“Just because a woman doesn’t throws herself into your arms after a fuck, doesn’t mean she had ulterior motives,” you scoff. “Get off your high horse,” you add before turning back towards the bar so you can order your drink. Unfortunately, Harry doesn’t want the conversation to end just yet. His hand is laid flat on the counter in front of you as he stands on your right, a little too close to your liking. You can smell the expensive cologne on him, the same that hit your nose on Friday as well and suddenly your body is betraying you.

However crazy the situation is, you can’t deny that he gave you one of the best times last Friday. Men you dealt with were more concerned about their own pleasure and most of them didn’t even get you to finish. But Harry made it happen so fast and didn’t even bitch about it when you made him rub your clit. He just obeyed like a grownup man who is willingly take care of his partner. That almost made you change your mind about leaving, but once you came down from cloud nine, you returned to your original plan.

But not as he is standing in front of you and you can smell him, your senses trick you into thinking that you’re in that bathroom again, almost aching for him to touch you the way he did then. He leans closer to your ear as he speaks up again.

“Leave the drink, dance with me,” he tells you as the bartender places your drink in front of you. You debate what to do before grabbing the drink and chugging it down in one go. You’ll need the alcohol if you are about to dance with your enemy.

Harry takes you to the dance floor in the middle of the ball room, one of his hands finds the small of your back while the other takes your hand as the two of you start swaying to the gentle music played by the band.

“Your aunt set my company back in women’s fashion every time I tried to take a step forward. Are you going to do the same?”

“She didn’t do anything to set you back but to build her own company. Not everything is about you.”

“You sound a little naïve, Love. It’s pretty clear you are new in the business.” This statement riles you up big time. How dare he degrade you like that? He knows nothing about you, yet he assumes things that are not at all real.

Smirking to yourself you lean back enough so your gazes can meet. Your hand slides up from his shoulders to the base of his neck so your fingers can gently brush against his skin and you notice the shudder than runs down his spine. He is not the only one having flashbacks from your last encounter.

“Wanna know what I know about business?” you purr, his eyes glued to your red lips as you speak. “I know that… Twisted was one of the last sites to participate in personalized ads on online platforms, failing to reach it’s targeted audience as fast as literally everyone else. I know that your company and my company use the same security system in our server rooms yet I can assure you that it cost me twenty percent less because we waited a month before installing it and got a huge last minute discount because the security company was trying to boost their numbers for their end of year closing. And I also happen to know that you are working on a new design for your website that could easily be outshone if I just did the same before you could do it.”

Harry’s lips part, probably mostly at the last information. He has no idea how you know these stuff, but you have a wide circle of connections in the city, you have an insider at every big companies in the industry without them even knowing. You’ve given countless tips to your aunt through the years, that’s how she managed to stay on top of her games.

Leaning closer your lips almost brush against him and you see how he weakens, he is expecting you to kiss him and he wants it. But you just smile at him, your eyes snapping down to his lips before up to his eyes.

“I will not do the same as my aunt, Harry,” you softly speak, your fingers grazing the back of his neck. “I will do way worse things.”

And with that, you slip out of his arms and walk back to your table, leaving him standing there alone at a complete loss of words.

“What the fuck had gotten into you?” Niall grimaces upon hearing everything he told you on the evening of the charity event. And quite frankly, Harry has no answer to that. He has absolutely no idea what had gotten into him to act like such a dick when you didn’t do anything against him.

The situation just messed with his head, seeing you in that breathtaking dress, mingling with everyone, smiling and laughing, oh how he wished you were laughing on his jokes! But then you seemed so tensed when he came up to you and something just switched in him. He wanted to take dominance, to somehow get out of it on top, but he miserably failed. When you brought up their plans to change the design he completely froze.

“No idea, okay? I just…lost it,” he growls, sinking into the couch. When Niall found out that Harry met the woman from the club again he insisted on coming over with some wine to talk it out, but he was not expecting this kind of story at all.

“Dude, you just put yourself on her radar big time, maybe she wouldn’t have even bothered to compete with you like her aunt did, but you surely changed her mind now.”

“I know, Niall!” Harry growls, not in the mood to be scolded like a little child. “Do you think she’ll change their design before we do?” he peeks at his friend, but Niall just shrugs.

“No idea, but I would try to speed it up before she actually does it.”

 Harry made you into a ticking bomb and you successfully got under his skin about the whole design project so first thing the next morning he went to Zayn to discuss a possible earlier debut for the new designs. Though it would be a close stretch, they agreed that it would go live by the end of the week and that got Harry somehow a little relieved, but in the middle of that he failed to put the right amount of effort into finding designers for their female lines.

When he meets up with Lambert a few days later he is not there to deliver great news. Apparently, three out of the four designers they were negotiating with recently pulled out of their deal and signed a contract with Cometa.

“We have one last designer on the list, but then… we are out of the bigger names,” Lambert sighs as Harry chews on his bottom lip anxiously. He feels like he has fallen into a hole a while ago and instead of climbing out he is just digging it deeper underneath him.

“Okay, do we have an appointment with them?” Harry asks.

“Yeah, I’m meeting her this afternoon.”

“I’m going with you,” he nods before standing from his chair and opening the door he calls out for his assistant. “Rebecca, please clear my schedule for this afternoon, I’ll be out of the office.”

Rebecca nods behind her desk, already starting to make calls about Harry’s meetings and appointments.

It’s obvious he is anxious about the meeting, because if it falls through they are forced to look for less known designers and that won’t bring the change for the company they’ve been seeking for a long time. Arriving to the showroom where the designer is working, Harry is setting his thoughts straight, determined to convince her to sign a contract with them. The two men are let into the building by the nice assistant working at the front desk and she shows the way to the showroom where Kennedy, the designer is waiting for them.

Harry is confident, he trusts his skills to make this happen, but when they walk inside he instantly freezes upon seeing an all too familiar figure standing with Kennedy

A maroon colored pantsuit is hugging your curves, a Hermés handbag hanging from your arm, your hair falling in loose curls. As if you could sense his presence, you peek over your shoulder, a devilish smirk on your lips when you see the shocked expression on Harry’s face.

“What a great surprise!” you beam, selling how happy you are to see him and in a way, you are. You wanted to see his face drop when he realizes you snatched yet another designer from him.

“Oh, Mr. Styles!” Kennedy smiles nicely at him and he finally snaps out of his trance, shaking hands with her and then turning to you, doing the same but in a lot colder manner.

“Y/N, nice to see you again,” he fakes a smile as your hand falls from his palm.

“I could say the same. But I’m heading out now. Great talk, Kennedy. I’ll be waiting for your call,” you wink at the young designer who seems to be thrilled by your words as she walks you to the exit.

“Fucking hell,” Harry mumbles under his breath and Lambert shoots him a look before Kennedy returns.

The three of them take a seat on the couches in the corner of the room and Harry is quick to get down to business, trying his best to make his offer appear more appealing than anything you told her right before their arrival. Kennedy listens intently, even takes notes and then she shows him some examples of what she was thinking about for her next line and Harry is beyond thrilled.

Unfortunately, soon comes the painful part.

“Harry, I’m gonna be honest with you,” Kennedy starts and Harry already knows what she is about to say. “Your offer is very tempting and it would be an honor to design a line for Twisted, but in my situation it would be more beneficial if I collaborated with Cometa. It is nothing against your company, it’s more about my personal path and growth.”

Harry can feel his stomach dropping and he clenches his jaw as he listens to Kennedy’s worth. He understands, of course he understands, she has the right to selfishly look at her own benefits upon signing with a new company, but he wished she would take the risk and chose his company instead of yours.

“I’m keeping the offer open for you still,” he forces a smile on his face. “If you change your mind, Twisted would be more than happy to work with you.”

Kennedy walks the two men out and the fake smile quickly vanishes from Harry’s face upon stepping out of the building.

“What are we going to do now?” Lambert asks, clearly worried about how they’re gonna move forward with their last chance falling.

“If Y/N wants a war, that’s what she’ll get,” Harry growls, revenge burning in the greens of his eyes.

It’s a quiet Friday afternoon, only hours left from the day before you are headed home finally. You’re sitting in your office with Leslie, going over next week’s schedule to make sure everything is set and clear.

It’s been almost an entire month since you stepped into your aunt’s shoes as head of the company and though the start was a little rough, especially with finding out who Harry was, but you feel like you have everything under your control by now. After all, you didn’t learn business for years from the bests for nothing, right?

Harry’s comment on you knowing nothing about the industry made you bitter, because he knows nothing about you and the struggle you went through your life to get to this point. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbow, being Julia’s niece might have been a hugely influencing aspect of you taking over, but you worked your ass off to be the best leader you can and not just ruin everything she built up through her whole life.

Though you didn’t always want to be the one following her, but you like to think that things worked out to your favor and you are where you should be.

“Alright, everything is looking fine,” Leslie smiles at you over her laptop. “I’ll send you the notes from today’s meeting.”

“Thank you. Can you call in with the delivery company about next month’s transactions?” you ask her and she nods, already adding it to her list of tasks for the rest of the day. “Alright. I’ll do the rest of the signings and then we can head out,” you smile at her.

Leslie is grabbing her things from the table when there’s a soft knock on the door. You give your permission and one of the tech support guys walk in with a worried look on his face.

“Miss Y/L/N? I’m afraid we have a problem,” he clears his throat and you can already feel your anxiety crawl up on your spine.

“What is it?” you ask firmly. The guy steps farther inside, fumbling with his fingers as he presents the issue.

“There’s been an attempt to break our software’s security system where we keep our data about the sellings. A-And I’m afraid it wasn’t just an attempt, they succeeded.”

You take a deep breath, glancing over at Leslie for a moment before you follow the man to the tech department to investigate the issue further. You don’t know shit about these stuff, but from what he said you know the trouble is huge and if you don’t solve it as soon as possible, valuable data could leak out to the public. They try to explain you what they are working on as of right now and that there’s not much you can actually help with.

“Make sure to put your extra hours on your attendance sheets and let me know when you are able to restore the system,” you tell them and you earn quite a few thank yous on your way out for actually paying the overtime. Then you turn to the guy that first came to your office. “Do you have any information about who it could have been?”

“We weren’t able to track them back, but whoever it was, they’re surely professionals and they might know the system from the inside.”

“What do you mean from the inside? Someone did it from the company?” you ask, eyebrows knitting together as you fold your arms on your chest.

“No,” he shakes his head. “We would have been able to track that back. I mean that they know the system, maybe they worked somewhere where the same one was used and they could see into it.”

It takes you a few moments before you realize what this really is and it has your blood boiling right away. Nodding shortly you exhale sharply through your nose.

“Thank you, please call me when it’s up and running again, I’ll take care of the rest,” you tell him before turning around you walk away.

When Leslie sees you approaching your office with a head practically turning red she is quick to jump to her feet, following you into the office.

“What’s happening?”

“Harry Styles, that’s what happening,” you snap as you grab your phone, purse and coat before heading out, not wasting another minute.

“What? Where are you going now?”

“To the devil himself,” you growl back and enter the elevator, leaving her alone with her questions.

Sitting in your car on your way to the headquarters of Twisted, you imagine every scenario you want to make happen when you arrive, most of them including hitting the man across his ridiculously handsome yet annoying face. He crossed a line with breaking into your system and stealing valuable data. Though you’re sure he wouldn’t dare to sell or publish it, because he would be in a big legal trouble if he did, he still had a glimpse into your numbers and that’s already an advantage. He is playing dirty and you’re not having any of it.

Arriving you burst through the doors and demand to see him. Though the woman behind the front desk tells you that you can’t see him without an appointment, you still get her to make a call up and naturally, Harry allows you to see him. The fucker might already have been waiting for you to show up. As you stand in the all glass elevator, on your way up to meet him you take a few deep breaths to keep your cool and not snap like a maniac, however it all vanishes when you see him waiting for you with that shit-eating grin on his face when you step out of the elevator.

“You’re lucky I didn’t go straight to the police with your little stunt, you fucker!” you snap, not able to hold back your swearing any longer.

“Do you have any evidence?” he tilts his head to the side and you don’t miss how his gaze runs down your body as you march towards him. You’d find it flattering in another situation, but right now you just want to punch him in the face.

“I’ll show some evidence down your throat, Styles, if you don’t stop messing with my security system,” you growl back, standing so close to him now that you see every tiny freckle and blemish on his face and the way how he clenches his jaw, holding his gaze on yours.

Without a word or invitation, you walk into the room that you suppose is his office and he follows with a soft chuckle.

“Did you hire a hacker just to mess with me?” you throw the question at him as he closes the door so his employees don’t hear everything.

“What if I did?” he shrugs, stepping to the tray on his desk that already has a glass of whiskey on it. He grabs the glass and simply lifts it to his lips, taking a tiny sip from it. “Oh, excuse my manners. Would you like a drink?”

“I’m driving,” you answer shortly. “You crossed a line, Harry,” you warn him.

“What line?” he chuckles, rather entertained by your rage. “After what you pulled with Kennedy, I think I went easy on you.”

“I didn’t pull anything, I just gave her a better offer! It’s not my fault she has better chances with my company!” you snap back, feeling your heartbeat fastening from the anger that’s boiling in your veins.

“You knew I wanted her to design for me, why couldn’t you just let one person out of your endless list? You already have everyone else, she was my last fucking chance!” Harry barks back, clearly having some built up tension in him as well.

“If you didn’t act like an arrogant asshole at the charity gala, I would have happily let you work with her, but then you felt the need to fucking degrade me! That’s why I didn’t let you get away with it!”

Harry opens his mouth to answer, but he quickly closes his mouth, probably knowing well you’re right. He did act shitty towards you that evening and he has no excuse for his behavior. You walk closer until there are just a few feet between the two of you, your eyes glued to his burning green gaze that’s staring back at you, but before you could speak up, he cuts you off.

“Well, you know. All is fair in… war and business,” he shrugs and you honestly barely can stop yourself from laughing at how stupid that just sounded. You can’t miss the twitch in the corner of his mouth as well and you can’t believe how easily he made you break out of your rage.

“Don’t try to make money out of writing slogans,” you huff shaking your head and now he is grinning widely. “Do you have the data?”

“I don’t,” he answers and you narrow your eyes at him.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” he chuckles. “I had it, but I already deleted it. I know it wasn’t ethical so as soon as it was handed to me I deleted it. I didn’t even look into it. I just wanted to scare you.”

“And how do I know your hacker doesn’t have it either?”

“Because he signed a contract that would cost him millions to break and I don’t think a junior in college who is still living in a dorm can afford that,” he points out and now you are somewhat convinced. You stare back at him for a few more seconds before nodding.

“Stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours, how does that sound?” you offer generously.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he questions with a smug smirk that makes your arch an eyebrow at him. “What are you doing tomorrow evening?” he then asks and you can’t mask your surprise in front of him.

“That does not concern you, Styles,” you scoff, though it boosts your ego that even through all the hate you’ve been targeting at each other, he still wants you the same way he did at the club that evening. You can’t deny, this rivalry has sparked a few thoughts in you as well, but you are not going to fall into the same mistake you made that evening. You pay him another smirk before turning around and heading towards the door. “Stay out of my way, Styles!” you call back without looking at him, but you just know he is grinning at you, a growing sexual tension thickening the atmosphere in the room.

“Or what?” he smugly questions and you stop at the door, glancing back at him over your shoulder.

“Or… You said it yourself. All is fair in war and business,” you smirk before walking out of the office.

Following your visit to Harry’s office things take a… playful turn in your rivalry. The attempts and competing don’t stop, both of you are on each other’s radar, ruining and messing with each other’s projects and works whenever and wherever it’s possible, but it’s not as hateful as it was at the beginning. If something, it even helps you to always be on your toes and watch out for possible threats, not just from Harry but from everyone else.

Neither of you succeeds in evolving in each other’s field, Cometa keeps thriving in women’s fashion with a quite small variety offered for the gentlemen while Twisted fails to grow out of men’s fashion and venture to the ladies, but somehow it’s not as frustrating as it used to be before.

Harry keeps up his flirty acts and tries to ask you out every time your paths cross each other, but you relentlessly turn him down every time, only fueling him to keep chasing after you more the next time. It’s a thrilling and flattering little game, knowing that even with all the rivalry between the two of you, being the biggest competitors in the business… he still wants you.

New York fashion week rolls around and it’s by far one of your favorite times in the year. You managed to snatch an exclusive deal with YSL to release a special line just for the fashion week and it sold out in the first two hours, now waiting to be restocked in a few days. Cometa is thriving and your aunt has expressed her pride towards the work you’ve been doing at the company, so things are heading the right direction.

You knew Harry would be attending the same shows as you, but it’s fate or just luck that you are seated next to each other at one of the shows, giving you the chance to talk without any of you attempting to corrupt the other this time.

Harry is already sitting in his seat when you arrive wearing a custom made Gucci dress, something that immediately catches his eyes since he is a huge fan of the brand himself.

“Your fashion sense never disappoints, Y/N,” he beams up at you as you take the seat next to him.

“Hope that’s not surprising, Styles,” You smirk at him, taking a glance at his own Gucci outfit, the checkered pants fitting him perfectly while the pussy bow adds some spice to the whole outfit, you have to admit. He looks good, he always does.

“Any plans after the show?” he asks right before the lights go out and the show starts. You leave him without an answer, just let out a soft chuckle as you glue your eyes to the first model who walks the runway.

Once the show is over you head out with Harry by your side, having an actually entertaining discussion about the designs you just saw. He might not be an expert in fashion, but he has developed a good sense through his years.

As you make your way out of the venue you are stopped by an interviewer and Harry remains on your side as the woman asks you a few questions about the show.

“I’ve always wondered, does it bother you that you couldn’t be on the runway yourself? You’ve been sitting front row the past years, but you once had aspirations of being a model yourself, is that right?”

The question makes you tense up and you can feel Harry’s puzzled look on you from the side.

“It’s not like it was my fault for not making it up there,” you sass back, forcing a smile to your face.

“Well, that’s not entirely true,” the woman chuckles and it has your blood boiling, because you know the real meaning behind her words.

It’s your fault you didn’t become a model because you were never thin enough to be one. It was your fault and not the industry’s to hold impossible standards to women who wanted to succeed as a model.

The smile falters from your face and you take a long, judgmental look at the woman in front of you. Because if she is brave enough to talk like that to you, you’re not gonna shy away from bringing her spirits down either.

“Judging from your appearance and attitude you wouldn’t make it either,” you spitefully reply and her smile quickly fades, clearly shocked at your answer. You open your mouth again, ready to continue, but then you feel a hand on the small of your back and you realize Harry is still standing next to you.

“Come on, we have somewhere to be, right?” he smiles kindly as you just simply nod and walk away from the woman before she could offend you again.

Harry senses your tension as the two of you leave the venue but doesn’t try to talk to you and that’s a wise choice from him. As you step out of the building you realize that if you went home now you’d probably get drunk on your own and let that comment get to you more than you should. So instead of doing that you turn to Harry.

“So, what are our plans?” you ask and you don’t miss the small smile on his lips as he stares back at you.

Not in the mood to stay around people at a bar you accept Harry’s invitation to his place, since it’s also close. The contrast between his extravagant penthouse and your cozy but still quite modern townhouse in Park Slope is major, but you didn’t expect anything less from the man.

You’ve managed to calm down since you left the venue, but you’re still quite bitter about the comment the woman made. Harry hasn’t tried to ask you about it, but you can tell he is dying to know more about the situation that’s behind the madness.

He fixes you a drink and you find yourself sinking into his comfortable and probably ridiculously expensive couch in his living room area.

“I used to want to be a model,” you start, breaking the silence that settled between the two of you. “When I was a teen. I was a lot thinner, I was a competitive dancer until I was seventeen, but I had a knee injury, so I had to quit.”

Harry sits on the other end of the couch, listening to you with patience as he sips on his own drink.

“I was never as thin as the other models at the agency I was trying to get into, but I definitely wasn’t overweight. Yet, they labelled me as a plus size model. I was a healthy, strong young girl with a perfectly good body, yet they told me that I was too fat to be a model.”

Glancing at Harry, you can tell that he is surprised at the information he just learned. He is probably picturing you thinner now, going to model castings and if you’re being honest you enjoyed that part. The trouble came when you got rejection after rejection, telling you to lose weight and come back after that.

“I quit my whole plan to be a model and studied fashion and business instead, consciously working my way towards this point. But I never got over how the industry made me feel less of a person because I wasn’t a size zero.”

For a few long moments Harry just stares at you and it’s actually nice that he doesn’t try to make you feel better right away, praising you how you are perfect just the way you are. Because you’re not, but that’s fine because no one is.

“I’ve honestly never seen a more cruel industry than fashion before,” he then speaks up. “I didn’t grow up in it and still don’t really have that much and deep connection with it, but I know how fucked up it is. And it’s nice to see that you know your worth even after everything that happened.”

Your gaze meets his and you’re looking for any sign that gives away that he is just messing with you, but it’s all genuine. You just shoot him a small smile before lifting your drink to your lips. It’s the most intimate moment you’ve shared with him, including the ones you had in that bathroom.

“Okay, now you tell me something about your life,” you prompt, wanting to divert the conversation on him a little bit.

“What do you want to know?” he asks with a soft chuckle.

“Why did you name your brand Twisted?” you ask. The question has been on your mind for a while.

“It’s coming from my mum’s name. Anne Twist.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, you weren’t expecting such a deep and personal reason behind the name, connected to a family member.

“Why her?”

“Why not?” he smirks shrugging his shoulders. “She raised me and my sister up, I wouldn’t be here without her. It was obvious I would make her be part of it in some kind of way.”

“That’s actually very nice. Who knew that you could be something other than an egoistic asshole!” you joke, making him laugh as well.

“Okay, what’s the meaning behind your brand?” he then turns it back around.

“Well, my aunt met her husband when they were very young, maybe eighteen. She fell in love with Fabio on her trip to Italy and being the impulsive and adventurous woman that she is, she stayed for a month there just because of Fabio. He is a very passionate man and he was always ready to bring the stars down for Julia. He always used to tell her that he would even catch a comet for her, if that’s what she wanted. And that was my aunt’s favorite saying from him. Cometa is comet in Italian. It’s her tribute to the love of her life.”

“That’s easily the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” Harry hums and you just smile nodding at him. It really is like a fairytale and it’s also one of the reasons why you were so happy to take her place at Cometa. Julia is still just as in love with Fabio as she was at eighteen and she deserves to spend more time with her beloved husband. She earned the time off after all the sacrifices she made for the company and all through them Fabio stayed by her side. It’s their well-earned happy ending now.

“You know a lot about romantic things?” you cock an eyebrow at him, finishing up your drink.

“Actually, I’m a quite romantic guy.”

“Are you now?”

“Yeah, you just never gave me the chance to show it to you.”

“Oh, so now I’m the bad guy?” you chuckle, handing him your glass when he stands from the couch to get you a refill.

“Exactly!” he chuckles holding up your empty glass on his way. “I hope you know you absolutely broke my heart when you didn’t give me your number that night.”

“Oh, you poor little thing,” you chuckle, resting your head in your palm, your elbow on the back of the couch. “I’m not sorry though. You didn’t give out the right vibes.”

“The right vibes?” he huffs as he returns with your drink and now sits a little closer to you. “What vibe did I give you?” “The vibe that told me I shouldn’t mess with you,” you simply answer as you take a sip from your refilled drink.

“You were so keen on hating me even before you knew who I was, I can’t believe you,” he chuckles shaking his head.

“I’m just cautious!” you protest. “I’ve dealt with some problematic men in the past, I can’t let myself walk right into another one that easily.”

“What did they do?”

“Some men just can’t treat women right. Especially confident ones with a body like mine,” you simply shrug.

Men like to think that bigger girls are so terribly insecure about their body that they need the validation of a male to feel good about themselves. But when you’re confident and feel good in your own skin without needing them to praise you, they think that you’re egoistic, so full of yourself and they are quick to try to drag you down. That’s something you can’t tolerate. You don’t need a man to feel good about yourself, you don’t need anyone for that. You know your worth and that’s all that matters.

Harry’s eyes travel down your body, taking his time on your curves and you smile shaking your head as you reach out and cupping his chin you pull his head up so he is looking into your eyes.

“I honestly can’t see what problem anyone could have with your body. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since our bathroom fiasco,” he bluntly comments making you chuckle, even flattered by his words.

“You are such a flirt,” you grin at him and he doesn’t try to protest.

You stay for a couple more drinks and you drop the heavier topics, venturing over to music, fashion and any funny stories that come to your mind. Harry is actually amazing company when you’re not trying to jump at each other’s throat and for a few short hours you forget that he is supposed to be your competitor.

You’re a little tipsy, but you are definitely not drunk, so when Harry offers you to stay the night you turn it down, calling yourself a car since you are not in the right state to drive.

“I’ll come and pick my car up in the morning,” you breathe out as you put your heels back on that came off your feet sometime during the evening, making yourself home in his place.

“I’ll text you the security number to the garage,” he nods, walking you to the elevator.

“Thank you. And… I guess thank you for the evening,” you smile at him, turning to face him. He is standing close, but still takes a step closer, one of his hands finding your waist as he pulls you against his chest. Your palms lie flat on his chest as you try to get yourself to the right mindset to leave now before you regret doing something. Leaning down his nose nudges against your cheek, before he presses a soft kiss under below your ear, a sigh escaping your lips.

“I should go, the car is here,” you breathe out, but don’t move.

“Mm, okay,” he hums, his lips peppering kisses on your jaw and your cheek, as if you didn’t say a word. You want to continue it, not just because of the alcohol but because the sexual tension between the two of you has been growing since that charity gala, but the remainder of your rationality stops you before your lips could meet.

“Bye Harry,” you smile at him softly as you push him away and you walk into the elevator, leaving him hanging. Again.

“Bye Y/N. I’m still going to try to ruin your company!” he calls after you as you turn around to face him, the sliding doors slowly closing between the two of you.

“Same back at you, Styles,” you smirk before the door closes and you are taken down.

Well, that was a lie. Following your evening at his place neither of you really tries to work against the other, leaving each other be without any fuss. It might also have something to do with how you kept in touch after that day. You’ve been texting occasionally, attending some events together, even had a business dinner together with a few other peers from the industry. Things have been quiet and you’ve been feeling content with the current state you’ve managed to reach. Or so you thought.

It was a silent agreement between the two of you. You both put your projects aside that targeted the other’s profile. Harry stopped looking for designers for his women lines and you put your men department to the side as well. There were a lot to work on beside these fields so you felt like you were in peace. Right until Leslie bursts into your office on a casual Tuesday.

“Have you seen this?” she asks, placing a tablet in front of you with an Instagram account open on it.

You want to ask what you’re supposed to look at, but then you realize what it really is. A shiny new account for a new brand that promises to take online shopping to the next level; female and male as well.

“You think it could be…?” you ask, not quite convinced that Harry is behind this.

“Well, the wording is similar to theirs and creating a new brand might be a solution to their gap in women’s fashion,” she points it out, though you don’t want to believe he could have been working on this all along, basically in front of your face.

But it’s a possibility and you have to consider this option before jumping into defending him without any proof.

“Men can’t be trusted,” you grumble under your breath before jumping into work.

What you didn’t know is that an eerily similar situation goes down in Harry’s office as well when Zayn bursts in, showing him the ad he found for the new brand called Farfalla.

Harry immediately digs up everything about the company, though there’s not much other than their new Instagram account and heavy marketing that started just yesterday.

“What is Farfalla even?” he grimaces leaning back in his chair.

“It means butterfly in Italian,” Zayn explains and Harry’s eyes flicker up to him.

“Italian? You think it’s her?”

“It’s possible,” Zayn nods. “Starting a new brand to finally reach men’s fashion is a good idea.”

“She wouldn’t have done this,” Harry shakes his head in disbelief. Could you be working on this all along? Was this your plan from the start? To make him fall for you and forget about business while you built up your new empire to ruin him?

“What if she did?” Zayn prompts and in a way his suspicion is valid, but Harry is having a hard time believing it. You would never play him this dirty, not after how the two of you have grown closer in the past weeks, almost became friends.

“What are you going to do?” Zayn asks him as he pushes himself away from the desk and quite obviously starts getting ready to leave.

“She is not getting away from this,” Harry mumbles under his breath as he grabs his coat and phone before storming out of the office.

It’s past six when Harry gets to Cometa’s building and he is informed that you’ve already went home. He could have just come back in the morning, but he knew he would just stew in his own anger if he didn’t talk to you as soon as possible. So using his charm he gets the woman sitting behind the front desk to share your address with him, saying that he needs to talk to you urgently. That’s how he finds himself heading to Park Slope, slightly surprised you are not living somewhere in the heart of Manhattan.

As the scenery around his changes, skyscrapers turning into brick buildings and townhouses, Harry tries to figure out what he even wants to say to you. Should he just get straight down to business and accuse you? Snap at you? Or should he give you the chance to explain yourself? He can’t really make up his mind, mostly because he still feels like you betrayed him even though he can’t be sure Farfalla is yours.

Parking down at the address he got from the woman, he stares up at the deep red brick townhouse, a simple, black door at the top of the stairs that’s lined with a few potted plants and flowers. This is not what he would have imagined your home like, but now that he is standing on your doormat, he realizes it kind of suits you.

Ringing the bell he hopes that you’re home and not out and about somewhere in the city, but when he hears the familiar sound of heels clicking on the floor he knows you are on the other side. When the front door flings open and you come into his sight, for a split second he forgets why he is here and his anger vanishes. As always, you look amazing, a tight, black dress hugging your curves, the middle part appearing like it’s a corset, emphasizing the dip of your waist. Your hair is let down in loose curls and your feet are bare, but he knows you probably wore heels all day. You must have gotten home not long ago and as your eyes fall on the man at the door, your expression hardens on him.

“You really had the balls to come her, huh?” you cock your head to the side, keeping your eyes on his green ones for a moment before you let him inside.

“Did you think you could get away with it?” he huffs walking into the hallway and stopping as you close the door and turn to him.

“Me? I could say the same! You thought I would just ignore it or what? I proved you a few times that I’m not stupid, Harry,” you retort, folding your arms on your chest as you walk past him, into the kitchen and he follows.

“You surely are not stupid, playing me so dirty behind my back!” Harry spats standing his ground. “Playing all friendly and nice and then make a fool out of me!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you question narrowing your eyes at him as you lean against the kitchen island’s counter. “If anyone played dirty it’s you! And you have the balls to come here and talk like this to me in my own fucking home?!” you snap, walking closer to him, keeping your deathly glare on him.

“What the fuck did I do?!” he scoffs throwing his hands into the air.

“You created a whole new brand just to fuck with me! Or did you think I wouldn’t find out about it?!”

“Me? You made a new brand! And you didn’t do a great job hiding the fact that it was your work, even the name is Italian, like your current one!”

You stare back at him, tilting your head to the side as you process what he is talking about. All along, the two of you were accusing each other of something neither of you did.

“Harry,” you breathe out, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Farfalla is not my brand.”

“And I’m supposed to believe it?!”

“Well you better be because it’s the fucking truth!”

“Prove it!” he hisses at you, taking a step closer, his face only inches away from yours now.

“Until about twenty seconds ago I thought that it was your new brand, Harry. I thought that you were the one who backstabbed me!” you snap back, standing up for yourself in this giant misunderstanding you fell into, accusing each other without any proof.

Harry stares back at you, his gaze burning into yours as he stands his ground and you can almost see the gears turning in his head as he processes your words.

“So… it’s not yours? You didn’t do it to fuck me up?”

“Of course not!” you breathe out, suddenly quite tired of all the anger that’s been eating you away through the afternoon. “I thought that we had a kind of silent agreement not to mess with each other so I wasn’t planning anything anytime soon. That’s why I got so mad when I thought you did it!”

“I thought the same!” he growls shaking his head. “I thought you did it all to just make me look stupid, that the friendly act was just so I wouldn’t notice a thing and I fell right into your trap.”

“There was no trap,” you simply tell him and you hope he senses the hidden meaning behind your words.

Luckily he does. But for your biggest surprise there’s no snarky comment or smug smirking, he just steps closer and before you could even protest, his hands find your waist and he pulls you against his hard chest, lips hungry attacking yours. He makes you back until you bump against the kitchen island, his hips pressing against yours as he pushes you against the hard surface, his hands wandering on your sides and back, up and down, exploring every curve of your body while his kisses never slow down, your tongues meeting in the middle.

Bringing up a leg you curl it around his hips, your heel digging into his round ass as he leans forward, making you arch your back, leaning onto the counter as his lips move from your lips to your jawline and neck, his fingers digging into your waist and the thigh that’s lifted by his side. He nibbles on the soft skin of your neck, definitely leaving a mark, but you just comb your fingers through his hair, letting yourself get lost in the sensation.

“As much as I would love to fuck you on a counter again, can we take this to a bedroom?” he mumbles as he kisses his way back up to your lips, smirking against them as he captures them again.

You don’t answer, just grab his hand and pull him upstairs with you, right into your bedroom. He is all over you, lips, hands, tongue, pressed up against you as the two of you stumble your way to your king sized bed. Harry’s fingers fidget with the corset on your dress, but he soon realizes it’s a little trickier than he expected, so leaning back he furrows his eyebrows as he glances down at the dress, still trying to figure out how to get you out of it.

“Harry,” you smile at him softly. “It’s faux. There’s a zipper at the back,” you inform him and he sighs in defeat as he kisses you again, his fingers quickly finding the zipper. The dress pools at your feet and you rid him from his jacket and shirt, revealing his inked chest, a sight you’ve been thinking about way too much lately.

By the time the two of you fall to your bed, neither of you are dressed in more than just your underwear. Because both of you like to be in charge, you roll around for a while, trying to get on top of each other but eventually Harry stays up when he starts going down on you, kissing his way through your heated skin. You don’t shy away when his hands snake under your back and easily unclasps your bra, being bare in front of him is not something that makes you feel uncomfortable or insecure. The way he looks at you, the way he makes you feel brings you so much confidence, you have absolutely no problem being nude.

When your bra flies to the floor, Harry leans back a little to admire you lying there, before his lips find their way over the curve of your breasts, down your stomach. Hooking his fingers into the elastic of your panties he tugs them down easily as you lift your hips, your thighs parting as you bare yourself in front of him.

“Don’t be shy about screaming my name,” he smugly tells you before his lips and tongue meet your clit. Your fingers lace through his hair immediately as you gasp out at the sensation, his tongue drawing the whole fucking alphabet to your bundle of nerves. His arms curl around your thighs, ring clad fingers digging into your flesh as he sucks on the sensitive skin.

“Fuck, Harry! Yes!” you moan out, tugging on his locks when he teases his tongue around your hole, your walls tightening around nothing as you are growing desperate to feel something inside of you.

You pull on his hair, signaling him that you want to get it on with, Hands reaching down to get rid of his boxer briefs before you blindly pull out the drawer of your nightstand, grabbing a condom. His lips eagerly meet yours as he wraps his erected cock and though you would love to have a taste of him like he did with you, you just want to feel him inside you.

“Tell me how bad you want it,” he growls against your lips, teasing you with running just the head up and down your slit.

“If you don’t fuck me right now I’m gonna rip your guts out,” you warn him, earning a soft chuckle as he kisses you again, tongue pushing into your mouth as he finally pushes inside you, his long, thick cock filling you up perfectly and it somehow feels even better than the first time.

“Go hard,” you gasp, a hand coming to grab his ass as you push him even further into you. He doesn’t need more, he starts slamming into you, his hips meeting yours roughly with each thrust, his whole length disappearing inside you every time.

He buries his head into the crook of your neck, licking and sucking on the soft skin. You almost think about telling him not to mark you, but it just turns you on even more so you let him do whatever he wants.

“I want to see you on top,” he pants, lifting his head so his gaze could meet yours. You nod, before the two of you turn around and you straddle his hips, guiding him back inside you as you sink down his length. Your hands are sprawled out on his hard chest as you find your balance in the position, Harry’s eyes roaming your body up and down, not able to get enough of how blissful you look, sitting with his cock buried inside of you, enjoying yourself to the fullest. His hands run up your thighs and upper body until they find your breasts, kneading them as you start moving your hips up and down, back and forth. When you moan his name or gasp because his cock reaches that one particular spot inside you, those are the moments he wishes he could capture on camera and watch whenever he wants.

“I want it from back,” you pant as you lean down and kiss him roughly. That’s all he needs, he helps you get off of him before you get on all four, pushing your butt up in the air while Harry kneels behind you, the sight in front of him hardening his cock even more, if that’s possible. His hands grab onto your waist as he pushes inside you, making you both let out a satisfied moan before he starts moving again.

“Fuck, you look so good like this, Y/N. I love your ass,” he growls, giving it a smack that surprises you, but you absolutely love it.

“Harry, go faster!” you whimper, feeling your orgasm nearing as you grip the comforter on the bed, desperate to reach your climax. You’re just about to reach down between your legs to play with your clit when Harry not only picks his pace up but also reaches around you, two of his fingers starting the circling motions on the bundle of nerves, making your legs shake from the pleasure.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me, cum all over my cock,” he growls, railing you from behind without missing a beat.

“Harry!” you scream when he thrusts into you so harshly, your whole body rocking in the motion.

“Come on, angel. Cum for me,” he murmurs and leaning down he wraps his arms around you, bringing you up straight, your back pressing against his sweaty chest, his hands coming to cup your breasts as he keeps thrusting up into you, pushing you over the edge.

You moan and gasp and scream his name as your walls tighten around his length, riding out your bliss and it helps him reach his own high, his hot breath hitting the back of your neck and shoulder, grunting and cursing under his breath as he fills the condom.

As his thrusts come to a halt, he sinks into a sitting position, bringing you with him, you lean against him feeling like jelly as you’re still just trying to catch your breath. Harry peppers your shoulder with small kisses before you muster the energy to break the position and lie down on the bed.

“Towel is in the bathroom,” you tell him knowing that’s what he’ll look for as he stands from the bed and you point at the door that leads to the joined bathroom. Harry nods and pads his way in there, cleaning himself up before he returns with a small damp towel, doing the same for you. He drops it to the floor next to the bed before joining you, cradling you into his arms as you take a breather together.

One hand is on your shoulder, fingers dancing on the naked skin, the other one is holding your thigh that’s across his lap while your head is resting on his chest.

“You really thought I would backstab you like that?” he hums after a while, breaking the comfortable silence.

“You did the same,” you answer, lifting your head, resting your chin on his chest.

“Touché,” he chuckles, before leaning down he kisses you shortly. “So, if neither of us did it, then we have a quite major problem on our hands.”

“I know,” you hum. “That shit looks promising and they can easily ruin both of us.”

Harry stays silent for a little, but you can see the gears turning in his head. When his gaze snaps back at you, you know he has an idea.

“Unless… we join forces.” Your eyebrows arch as you stare back at him. “I know it’s a risky move, but this is the only way to stay on the top.”

“How much you want to be joined?”

“We could start with just one line, the men part designed by someone from me and the women by someone from you. And if it presents well we can just figure out where to go from there. Obviously, the men part would be sold by us and the women by you, but we could join the pages and direct users to each other’s sites in connection with the lines.”

“That could… actually work,” you nod shortly, thinking about the idea. It needs a lot of planning, but it could actually be a big hit if you do it right. “And you’re willing to partner with me?” you ask cheekily as you push yourself up into a sitting position, Harry doing the same.

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m willing to do about anything with you,” he chuckles, making you smile at his playful answer. “I hope you know I’m not talking about just business,” he then adds with a meaningful look.

“You are still so keen on this?” you sigh, tugging your hair behind your ear.

“Do you not like being with me?”

“I do, surprisingly,” you roll your eyes, making him laugh.

“Do you not like having sex with me?”

“I think the answer is pretty obvious to that,” you give him a look as he smirks back at you.

“Yeah, but I want to hear it.”

“I enjoy having sex with you, Harry,” you roll your eyes again, but he just kisses you short but hard before leaning back.

“So then why shouldn’t we date?”

“Because we are competitors?”

“We just agreed that we should join forces. We are partners now.”

“You are running a little ahead, Harry,” you cock an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know, I haven’t been in a relationship in ages. I probably suck at it at this point,” you shrug, but it’s just a lame excuse and you both know that. Leaning closer Harry smirks at you smugly.

“I have something else you can suck.” You smack his chest at his nasty remark, but can’t push a smile back. His hand finds the back of your head as he pulls you in for another kiss. “I want you, Y/N. I really do. You are all I think about even when you are an annoying piece of shit, getting under my skin. I still want you.”

“Wow, so romantic,” you chuckle shaking your head. “What if we can’t get over our differences in the business? That can easily poison any relationship.”

“Then we’ll have a lot of mind-blowing angry and makeup sex. Those are the best. We can put all our frustration into sex, I think that’s just perfect.”

“What are you, a horny teenager? Sex is all you can think about?” you chuckle.

“It is when I’m lying in a bed with you naked. You can’t blame me,” he grins smugly and you want to hate him, you want to hate him so badly, but you can’t. You want him just as much as he wants you.

“So… partners?” he prompts, tilting his head to the side with a sweet smile as he waits for your answer.

“Partners in business and life?”

“Mhm, that’s the plan,” he nods, his smile growing wider with each passing second.

“Alright,” you breathe out. “So… it’s not—All is fair in war and business?” you ask teasingly, using his own words from earlier.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” he laughs, pulling you in for another kiss.

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #ceo!harry #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut

[jaskiersvalley]

I just thought of the shelter getting a pet goat that was rescued from a farm and theyre like ???? We do cats and dogs and the occasional rodent but like, a goat??? And Geralt is like "I know the EXACT person for this job" and that's how Eskel ends up with Lil Bleater, and any other unusual animal that gets handed in.

You. I love the way your mind works. Especially because this gives me an excuse to write more Eskel. (Like I need an excuse. I totally was going to write a serial killer AU if my head hadn’t been turned by this ask...) But anyway. You’re right, Lil Bleater absolutely needs to make an appearance in this AU.

Predominantly, the shelter was for cats and dogs. Sometimes someone brought in a guinea pig or rabbit but it wasn’t often. Usually, the owners of those could be redirected to a more suitable shelter and everyone was happy. What Jaskier couldn’t stand were the people who tied their beloved pet to the gate or left some poor creature in a box on the doorstep. Those animals were almost always in need of Geralt’s attention, traumatised by being so literally dumped. A few hours tied to a gate without water or attention never did anyone any good and turning up to work to find a stressed and scared animal tied up was never a brilliant start to the day. However, it was something that happened with a disheartening frequency but nothing could have prepared Jaskier for arriving to open up, only to find a goat on a leash, standing next to the gate. The leash was so short, the goat couldn’t chew through it but it couldn’t do anything else either, other than stand on shaking legs.

“Oh you poor thing,” Jaskier approached slowly. He had no idea what to do with the goat. If he put it into a kennel, the dogs would probably stress it out but a cat pen was not big enough. Untying the leash, he watched it walk, making a beeline for the grass.

After a minute of letting it graze, Jaskier tugged the leash gently, intent on at least giving it some water and making up a carrier to rest in behind the front desk while he figured out what to do. It was still early, Jaskier got there for seven to do morning rounds before the shelter officially opened at nine. At least Geralt was going to be in at half past to help with the morning rounds.

Sure enough, Geralt was there on time, greeting Jaskier with a small kiss, Roach trotting at his heels. She zeroed in on the carrier with the goat immediately, snuffling it until told to leave alone.

“Who have we got here?” Geralt asked with a sad voice. He knew a carrier meant someone in need of a vet. Crouching down, Jaskier saw the moment he registered their unusual guest.

“I have no idea what we’re going to do with a goat.” The admission hurt and Jaskier shrugged. “Found it tied to the gate. No note, poor thing couldn’t even lie down.”

Geralt stayed crouched, looking thoughtfully at the goat. Roach sat down by his side and stared too, just as serious.

“Trust me on this?” Geralt asked, already pulling his phone out, knowing Jaskier would say yes. However, he waited until he was actually given a verbal confirmation before dialling a number. “It’s me- yes, I know it’s early- No, just put him on- It has to be him, yes- Fuck you three are a nightmare- Just come to the shelter- I’m okay, just hurry.”

Twenty minutes later there was a knock on the shelter’s door and Jaskier opened it to Eskel, Lambert and another man. They all marched in, looking a little rumpled as if they’d been woken up from sleeping in a puppy pile. Geralt nodded at them as he came to the foyer, Roach left behind for now.

“Eskel, there’s a carrier behind the front desk, it’s one for you.”

Without questioning it, Eskel moved to look while Lambert and the other man hung back with Jaskier who was giving them a look, trying to figure it all out. Seeming to remember his manners, the stranger stuck his hand out for Jaskier to shake.

“Cahir. I have zero clue what’s going on. But I’m here and I’m supporting my boyfriends because it’s too early in the morning to do anything else.”

That had Lambert snorting and snaking a hand around Cahir’s waist. “Babe, you never have a clue what’s going on. And you never do anything but support our idiocy.”

Jaskier had many questions, predominantly about the fact that he’d last been introduced to Lambert and Eskel as though they were Geralt’s brothers. It was confusing. However, his attention was absolutely snatched up by a veritable coo from behind the desk as Eskel discovered the goat. There was the sound of the carrier being opened and soft words of encouragement.

Standing up, Geralt beckoned the others silently closer and they quietly approached to peer over the edge of the desk. Eskel was sat on the floor, goat with two hooves on his knee, sniffing him.

“Aren’t you a gorgeous girl?” Eskel murmured. Deemed friendly enough, the goat hopped into his lap and he gathered her to his chest with a small bleat that was too quiet for a goat of her size. If Eskel had been besotted before, he was positively melting, holding the goat to his chest as he stood up.

“Well, she’s definitely used to being handled,” Jaskier commented as he watched Eskel walk to Lambert and Cahir with the goat.

“He’s not named it,” Lambert muttered to Cahir, “We have a chance here.”

“Guys,” Eskel was staring down at the goat, “meet Lil Bleater.”

“Fuck!” Lambert cursed but he didn’t look mad. If anything, he was smiling just as badly as Eskel.

Cahir seemed horribly entertained by the whole thing. He reached to give Lil Bleater a scratch between the horns. “So when you were saying that the garden looks empty, even with the chicken run, what you were trying to tell me is you want me to build a goat pen next to it, right?”

The innocently hopeful look Eskel shot Cahir had Jaskier’s heart melting. He didn’t think Cahir could say no to such a look, even if he had wanted to.

“Told you I have a solution,” Geralt murmured, wrapping around Jaskier from behind. “She’ll be doted upon now.”

“Geralt, your brothers-” Jaskier had no delicate way of asking without sounding like a dick. “Are they fucking?”

Suddenly Lambert laughed and he turned to look at Jaskier. “You didn’t actually think we were brothers, right? Do we look anything alike?”

Come to think of it, there was only a passing resemblance between Eskel and Geralt. He was trying to think of a polite way of digging his way out of the situation rather than make it worse.

Thankfully, Eskel beat him to it. “Brother is quicker and more accurate than best friend.”

“I know I’m kinky but even I draw the line at incest,” Cahir piped up, looking far too amused. “My standards may be low but come on, do I really look the type? We just met! Do I give off such vibes?”

Jaskier blushed and tried to apologise and deny it and make amends all at the same time. Snorting, Geralt gave him a squeeze around the middle.

“They’re just fucking with you.” Turning to look at the other three, he smiled. “We have work to do. Take your goat and get her settled in. Thanks for helping out with her.”

Bidding their goodbyes, Eskel carried Lil Bleater out, wrapping his coat around her carefully, making a warm cocoon against his chest. Geralt hummed as he watched them leave. “I’ll bet you a blowjob the goat pen never gets built and she will sleep in their bed.”

Three weeks later, Jaskier was on his knees and had never been more happy to lose a bet.

#geraskier #eskel/lambert/cahir #geralt of rivia #jaskier #lambert #eskel #cahir mawr dyffryn aep ceallach #lil bleater #animal shelter au #tldr: lil bleater finds a new home

[matildashoney]

Watermelon and Some Sugar

MASTERLIST // MOODBOARD // TAG LIST // TAGS // PLAYLIST

TAG LIST: @detroitkiwis, @ihearthemcallingforyou, @goldenfeelin

talk to me about it!

there’s no excuse for this. watermelon sugar came out. i saw this picture. i had an idea. it’s all smut. have fun.

Malibu is too windy to be wearing a bikini under a half-sorted umbrella, yet Amelie is there, knees propped, toes in the hot sand, sunglasses perched on her nose and she sketches the shoreline of the beach near their home. Harry wanted to film in golden hour when the sun was setting, and the waves were crashing. Having a break from murals and exhibitions for a few days, Harry wore Amelie down, many heated kisses measured carefully between begging until she was falling apart in his hands and agreeing to anything that came out (or onto) his mouth.

“Puis-je les emprunter? Merci,” Harry smirks, nodding towards Amelie’s glasses perched on her nose and leaning down to take the heart-shaped sunglasses from her. “Bisous, s’il vous plait.”

Amelie squints at Harry, trying to gauge why his actions are so sweet and asking for the kisses. Usually, he would walk right up to her and take her sunglasses, kiss her lips without warning, and continue about with what he was doing. “Harry, a quel point cette vidéo est-elle érotique?”

“’s not that erotic,” Harry shrugs, gently brushing sand over Amelie’s toes and nudging her calf. “Offer is still there for you to be in it. Harry brought an extra suit for y’a.”

Her head tilts towards her chest, her eyes blinking at the man hovering over her, his body crouching down and setting his hands on her knees. “Are you fucking insane?” Her lips purse in a straight line as his hands gently pry her thighs apart, kissing the inside of her legs lightly. “Harry, this is your warning.”

His chuckle rumbles through his chest, his lips pecking her knee before squeezing her thigh and standing. “Offer is there. Thank you for the sunnies. Je t’aime.”

“Go on. Go make the entire globe horny. Go,” Amelie smiles, her heart warm as Harry turns around to chastely kiss her lips. “Go, baby.”

And Harry goes, and the music video is much more than Amelie thought it would be. Not that she gets jealous often, or jealous ever, really, but there is something about seeing Harry with beautiful women (and men) falling over him, feeding him watermelon, his fingertip tracing the outline, juice dripping down his chin, that makes her stomach twist in an unsettling way. Amelie knows that Harry would never do anything, there’s a reason that there’s a ring on her finger and her initial on his skin, but there is something about the sight that makes her skin crawl.

Maybe it’s because Harry didn’t have time to satisfy her that morning, rushing out of the house for meetings and the final gathering of all the costumes and outfits for the evening, making it their third or fourth day (not that she was counting) without properly tasting each other. Having sex in the shower before a meeting or Harry’s fingers between her thighs while watching a movie doesn’t necessarily feel the same as really immersing in her heat – tongue first, nose second.

Going on five years in a relationship, Amelie halfway expected Harry to get bored with their sex, and yet every time they’re together – whether that be in bed, in the car, in the kitchen, in the shower, in the pool, in the dressing room backstage – there is something about the way his lips burn on her skin and his fingers trail between her thighs to simply get a taste, that would tell her differently.

On the days that Harry will be out of the house until late at night, his fingers inch into her panties in the morning and drag between her thighs, his middle and third fingers circling her heat and barely inching into her warmth to have a ‘proper taste’ because the arousal that sits between her lips isn’t enough. On the days that Harry is especially needy, his throat will wake up dry, thirsty, begging for his one craving to fulfil his desire. On those days, he gently inches her panties down her thighs, slinking his head under the duvet and prying her legs as far apart as they’ll go, his nose nudging the bundle of nerves and his tongue dipping into her, a moan leaving their lips all at once.

Harry was slinking beneath the covers and onto his knees, happily, whenever she mentioned so. His eyes widened like he was being gifted a royal purchase, his favourite meal, his most loved sweet. He very much so got off on the idea of pleasuring her, especially since Amelie’s confidence inspired her moans to echo around the walls of their bedroom and her fingers to find space in his hair. He was addicted to it – to the taste, to the sound, to the feeling.

Amelie only heard “Watermelon Sugar” before the release on Saturday Night Live because Harry needed to listen to the final cut in the car and she happened to be with him. Her excitement geared towards waiting until the single or album was out. That’s what she did with Harry Styles, anyways. And as soon as “Watermelon Sugar” started playing, her jaw dropped, all the innuendos and implications that only she would understand. Her strawberry chapstick in the centre console, the night in June where they went to the beach late at night and Harry ate her out with watermelon juice stuck to his chin. Her memory traces back to the moment Harry wiped his mouth on his hand, kissing the flower on her hip and the moon on her sternum, his lips hovering over hers as he whispered, Don’t I could ever go without that. Amelie laughed at him, playfully nudging his cheek to turn away from her, only for Harry’s face to slink back between her thighs and taste, again.

And since then, Harry’s been innuendo after innuendo, teasing that if Amelie wasn’t nice, they would insert her moans in the track of a song. Hearing “Watermelon Sugar” for the first time, she was surprised that Harry hadn’t done that, merely saying that it had a better beat or sounded smoother than what he could recreate.

Amelie, unlike Harry, never experienced the twinge of jealousy. Occasionally, there was the one or two women that would approach Harry when she stepped away and would try to talk to him, but there was always the comfort that their hands would never be on him, lips never touching his skin. On this beach in Malibu, however, is a completely new territory.

Harry frolicked around the beach with the lovely women and men, their skin shining and their bikinis and shorts tight to their bodies in the fading sunlight. His lips doused in watermelon and juice and strawberries. Kisses on his cheeks and his curls tugged to attention as the song plays over and over. His ripped jeans are sitting perfectly beneath his tummy, the ferns that she has left one too many love bites on display. Her eyes travel alongst his body, his muscular back tensing and loosening beneath the touches that are given, his figure laying on their legs, tossed around in their arms.

Amelie’s stares at him between pencil strokes and light shading, the scenery on the sketch replicating the beach they know so well. Her lips pull into a straight line, an unfamiliar twinge in her belly, a want to go and grab his cheeks and kiss him in a way only she can, to slip her hand in his shorts and feel him harden in her grasp and squeeze a moan out of his throat as she lightly kisses his chin sitting uneasily on her chest. Amelie wants to say that her thighs are aching to have him between, to have him stretching her, to have him tasting her, to attribute her want to publicly bite his lips and mark his skin to that, but it isn’t Amelie is jealous.

Quite jealous.

Her thoughts are swirling in her head as Harry walks towards her, holding a new slice of watermelon and tossing a peace sign towards her, his lips quirked in a smirk as her eyes visibly trail across his exposed skin. “Like what you see?”

“Eh,” Amelie shrugs, taking a picture on the polaroid camera tucked away in her bag, rolling her eyes as Harry makes a point to stand directly in front of the sun beaming down on her. “I’m trying to tan.”

“Tu vas me laisser te baiser pendant que nous déjeunons?” Harry wonders hopefully, his dimple indenting his cheek as he smirks, the sunglasses perched in his hair as he ducks his head under the umbrella. “S’il vous plait.”

“No, you cannot fuck me while everyone eats lunch.” Amelie rolls her eyes at Harry, knowing that his reasoning for asking in another language is simply to persuade her easier. “You had your chance, this morning, but left before I could even wake up.”

“Doll,” he whines, laying his hands on her knees and his chin on his forearms, his knees laying on the fringe of the blanket on the sand, “‘m so hard.”

“Maybe you should go rub one out before you have to finish, then,” she smirks, her belly swirling with butterflies as his eyes squeezed shut and his lips pursed for a kiss, only to have her trail across his groin and squeeze his thigh. “Have work to get done.”

“Hey, that was mean,” Harry breathes, his hands inching down her thighs and his thumbs rubbing lightly over her heat through the clothing. “Think two can play at your game, here, love.”

Amelie sucks in a shaky breath, her teeth biting her cheek as Harry’s fingers nearly sink into the sides of her bikini bottoms. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Mhm, sure you don’t, angel. You’ll pay for that later,” he hums, kissing her knee and snapping the material on her thighs, her chest panting with his touch and his shorts noticeably more comfortable around his groin and thighs. “Love you.”

And Amelie swears that a music video has never taken longer to shoot. Near the end of the shoot, Harry Lambert tells her that there are a few shots that they have to take of Harry alone, and they’ll be a bit longer. Nodding understandingly, she tells him that she’s going to go home and grab dinner – because five years later and she still barely cooks a normal meal without him home – for when they’re finished.

Harry kisses Amelie goodbye, smirking as she gathers all of their belongings and tucks it away into their car, making a show with how slowly she unties the bikini beneath her shirt and her chest breathes beneath the fabric. He wants nothing more than to walk to her and wrap his lips around her nipple and suck, bite the flesh and leave indigo marks on her skin to see tomorrow.

All Harry wanted was to devour her, and Amelie was surely not going to make it that easy for him.

Nearly two hours later, Harry tosses his keys into the metal bowl next to the door, toeing his shoes onto the mat and locking the door for the night. He can hear the music playing on the stereo outside, a smirk tugging on his lips as he slips his shirt over his head, his feet carrying him up the stairs to grab two items, coasting down the stairs and his elbow nudging the garden door open. He can see Amelie’s reflection in the pool, the cabana curtain wide open and her towel slung on the table to the side of the makeshift bed. He walks outside, loosening the ties around his shorts and unbuttoning the buttons on the yellow blouse clinging to his torso.

Harry steps through the open curtain of the cabana, his thumbs gently prying her thighs apart and coasting along her skin, the smirk playing at the corner of his lips telling her everything that he was thinking as she meets his stare. “You didn’t wait for me to get in the pool. Now, you’re all dry,” Harry murmurs against her knee, his mouth sponging wet kisses along her skin, his teeth nipping at her inner thigh. “Most of you is dry, I mean.” His fingertips swiftly dipping beneath the waistband of her suit and dragging it down her thighs, the knitted top strung somewhere behind her. “Oh, baby, you shaved,” he smirks, his fingers inching closer to where she wanted him the most. “Gon’a be soft fo’ me.”

“And you think I’m just going to let you go down on me,” Amelie mutters, taking his hands and setting them at his side, ignoring the fact that her calves are held together by a swimsuit.

“Oh, that makes sense, now,” Harry nods, pursing his lips together and gently moving her ankles to let the suit fall to the concrete by his feet, his knees settling between her legs that are held open by his hands.

“Oh, what?”

“You’re jealous,” Harry teases, his hand grabbing her wrist and kissing her hand, her knuckles, bringing her thumb to his lip and gently suckling on her skin. “Can’t be mad at me. ‘s jus’ work. ‘ve never gotten mad when you’ve done the nude shoots and sketches.”

“Harry, that’s bullshit, and you know it,” she says, her eyes rolling as she recalls the conversations that surrounded him being jealous of the nudist paintings she has done. “Explain ‘Cherry’ if you don’t get jealous.”

“Okay, maybe.” His eyes travel to the watermelon cut on the table near them, his eyes lighting up and his lips wrapping around a bite, the juice trickling down his chin. “Made you jealous and I haven’t tasted you all week. ‘m a horrible fiancé. ‘m gon’a make it up to you, baby,” Harry says, his sticky lips beginning to inch along her thighs, his hands holding her thighs away from his head, his fingertips surely bruising her skin with his touch. Harry knows that Amelie loves his grip, the feeling of his weight on her. “Could smell you at the beach, y’know. Know you wanted to fuck me, there, even though you wouldn’t.”

“’s because tu es à moi, and ‘s not m’thing to have anyone else knowing what we do,” she says, her eyes meeting his as he grins, nodding as his eyebrows wiggle suggestively, his hands reaching to the ground where he sets two cameras on the mattress beside her. “Tell me what you brought those for.”

“I am yours,” Harry says, turning on the camera and the polaroid and setting the film to be taken. His hands set the polaroid on her tummy, her chin tucked to her chest, her breathing slightly erratic as his lips return to their home on her knees, inchingly closer to where she’s wanted him for days. “Even though it’s me more than you, sometimes you get jealous, and now you’re going to have photos and videos to remind you like you made me.”

Amelie’s breathing is shaky as Harry’s arms sling her thighs over his shoulders, “Can’t have your hair in my hands if I’m taking pictures.”

“On the nose, Ames.” His lips are wet and sticky against her inner thighs, his mouth travelling along every inch of skin he can reach without ever touching her heat. “Can’t be a brat and expect to have my face between your legs and your hands in my hair. Kinda greedy, if you ask me.” His lips hover over her core, his hands splayed flat on her hips. “Good girls take their pictures. Maybe I’ll let you hold my hair, after. Oh, and don’t disturb the neighbours with your moans. Those are for me, only.”

Harry’s tongue licks along her slit, her thighs spread to him, his cheek nudged in the crook where her thigh meets her core, his fingertip dragging around the warmth of her entrance. His fingers thrust into her, her velvet walls squeezing around him, his middle and ring fingers reaching his knuckle as his fingertips sponge against her sweetest spot. His lips suckle around her clit, solely focused on the way her arousal douses his hands and his skin, the smell of her invading his senses. His mouth quirks into a smile as the flash of the camera sounds around their cabana, her heavy breaths and moans echoing into a pillow.

“Cheating,” Harry breathes, his fingers continuing to thrust into her warmth, her heels digging into his shoulders, “Can’t see you if you have a pillow in front of your face.”

“Harry, you’re asking me to give you the worst case of blue balls you’ve ever had in your life,” Amelie whimpers, knocking her head against the pillow beneath her neck when Harry swats her hand away from his sunglasses on his nose, his eyes tinted maroon beneath the cherry heart glasses. “Baby.”

“Can you take a picture while you orgasm? Think you can do that for me, baby.” Harry moans as a third finger slowly inches into her warmth, her thighs open and his hand holding her hips where her back arches. His tongue circles around her bundle of nerves, her clit sensitive and her thighs shaking beneath his touch as her orgasm begins to wash over her, her stomach tightening and her warm walls squeezing his fingers as he sponges over the spot that makes her writhe with moans. “Good girl, take the picture o’ me.” Amelie’s third picture falls to the mattress, her chest heaving with breaths as her thighs shake beneath Harry’s hands, his thumbs massaging the tattoos caressing her skin. His tongue gently traces over her core, humming delectably as her climax drips onto his face.

“Made m’knees hurt,” Harry says, taking the camera and set the timer on the makeshift table in the corner, his body lying on the mattress next to her. His hands wrap around her waist, coaxing her to straddle his hips, his thumb dragging along her inner thigh and lightly tracing over her slit as goosebumps prickle her skin. “Come sit on m’face.”

“Harry,” Amelie whines, moaning into his neck as her arousal wets his thighs. “Harry, you’re going to tease me, and ‘m sensitive. ‘m sorry fo’ being mean, you don’t have to tease me.”

“Missed your taste. Can’t ever go that long without it, again,” Harry breathes into her, a smirk plastered on his lips as her thighs straddling his shoulders, her warmth overwhelming him. “Grab m’hair, baby. Good girl.”

His mouth is wet and sticky on her core, her fingers tugging on his curls as his hands grip her waist. His tongue gently tastes her, slow and steady with her grinds and the movements of her hips, the sensitivity of her orgasm lingering in her nerves. His thumb rubs her clit achingly slow, his tongue rhythmically thrusting into her warmth and taking her to a new orgasm. Her thighs clench around his head and her fingers squeeze his curls, tugging at the root and whimpers a melody to his ears.

Harry is gentle as Amelie lays on the mattress next to him, wiping his mouth messily on the back of his hand, the light scruff on his chin glistening under the fading sun. He leans onto his side, his fingertips dragging along her naked chest and her bare hips. “Do you think you one more in there for me, mon ange? Only for me.” His lips touch her shoulder, slowly inching his way towards her neck and shifting his body, his knee set between her open thighs. “I love you.”

“Love fucking me,” Amelie says, shaking her head and hiding her face in her hands. Her lips are quirked into a smile, her orgasmic bliss beginning to feel overwhelmed by the thought of his shaft between her thighs. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

His fingertips shove his shorts down his thighs, kicking the material onto the concrete and his blouse following quickly behind. His lips slant against hers, a moan echoing on his tongue as his hand slowly inches her thigh around his waist. “I love you,” Harry stresses, his lips pressing a kiss hard into her cheek, his weight supported on his knee and his forearm, his hand pumping his cock between her thighs and thumbing her arousal and orgasm over his skin. “Love you so much that I want to spend m’whole life with you.” His cock slowly sinks into her warmth, squeezing around him and her teeth biting the skin of his shoulder lightly as his hips rock against hers, her nerves sensitive to the touch and her emotions on fire with his words. “Love your eyes and your heart and your smile.” His thrusts are hard and fast, the frame squeaking, her whimpers and quiet moans sounding so loudly in his ears. His lips are sloppily kissing hers and muttering, “Loving that I get to fuck you and make love to you whenever we want.”

Amelie’s fingers wrap around his arm, her nails inching into his skin, her thighs tight around his hips and drawing his thrusts heavy against her sensitive hips. Her thoughts are clouded in Harry and their love and the tinge of jealousy that made this, and her hand reaches for the polaroid camera forgotten beside her. “Fuck,” she moans, warmth squeezing him deeper, his cock bottoming to her hilt and grinding against her sweetest spot to bring her to her third orgasm. “Smile, baby.”

Harry smirks, his curls falling in front of his eyes as Amelie takes a photograph. Her jaw drops as he pulls all the way out, taking the camera from her and focusing on her face as he thrusts into her, her eyes squeezing shut as her orgasm overwhelms her and her core is clenching around him. His orgasm chases hers, milking all that he has inside her. Her hands reach for the pictures, her eyes going wide with how filthy the images actually are.

“Holy shit, angel,” Harry murmurs, his eyes travelling to where their orgasms are slowly leaking out of her. “Got so much that you’re dripping.”

“Hm, I wonder why.” Amelie reaches for her bathing suit top, tying the knots around her neck and her back. Her hand reaches for a slice of watermelon, her eyebrows furrowing together in confusion as Harry holds his hand to her.

“Have a few left in this roll of film,” he says, yanking his shorts onto his hips and stepping outside the cabana, peering through the lens for the perfect angle. “Le’ me take a picture of you, angel.”

Amelie shakes her head, knowing that Harry means that the picture will be her without her bathing suit bottoms. “Harry, we have neighbours and that’s filthy.”

“Got fucked three times out here with the cabana curtains open,” Harry laughs, holding his arms out and nodding towards the uncut hedges, the sun nearly set and their privacy more acknowledged than ever by silence, “and the hedges are taller than me. Find another reason.”

“Can’t make this your background,” she says warningly, holding the watermelon unsurely and standing in front of him. “It’s dirty.”

“Can’t promise you that one,” Harry says, adjusting her pose and the watermelon and the depth, making sure that every part of his idea would be coming to life.

“Baby.”

Harry takes the picture and grins, holding the polaroid to his chest with a blushing smirk. “Don’t worry, angel. I want this one all for me.”

#loving you's the antidote series #harry #harry styles #1d harry #1d harry styles #harry 1d #harry styles 1d #harry x #harry x you #harry x reader #harry x y/n #1d fan fic #1d fanfiction #1d fan fiction #1d fic #1d ff #harry fic #harry fanfic #harry fanfiction #harry smut #harry angst #harry au #fic #romance #angst #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles ff

[geminiimagines]

Mk krew + wedding songs

Scorpion ( Hanzo Hasashi) 

All I Ask of You from Phantom of the Opera 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AIWZfMWWvPU

No more talk of darkness Forget these wide-eyed fears I'm here, nothing can harm you My words will warm and calm you let me be your freedom Let daylight dry your tears I'm here, with you, beside you To guard you and to guide you say you love me every waking moment Turn my head with talk of summertime Say you need me with you now and always Promise me that all you say is true That's all I ask of you

It’s a big moment for Hanzo to get remarried. It’s a second chance he never thought he would get again. All he wants to do for the rest for his is to protect and love you, and you just to is give him love and give him a home. 

Kabal 

At the Beginning- From Anatasia 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nV3WvlqRwdI

We were strangers, starting out on a journey Never dreaming, what we'd have to go through Now here we are, I'm suddenly standing At the beginning with you No one told me, I was going to find you Unexpected, what you did to my heart When I lost hope You were there to remind me This is the start

Being with Kabal is an adventure in itself. This song him reminds of all of the crazy shenanigans. But more importantly, you stuck by his side after his accident. You didn’t have to stick around, but you did. Now you were both starting on this crazy adventure. 

Erron Black 

Ring of Fire- Johnny Cash 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QfCOJLRk2D4

The taste of love is sweet When hearts like ours meet I fell for you like a child Oh, but the fire went wild I fell into a burnin' ring of fire I went down, down, down And the flames went higher And it burns, burns, burns The ring of fire, the ring of fire

Erron never expected to fall in love. Sure, he’s had a few relationships over the years, but it wasn’t anything serious. But when he met you, he fell hard. He didn’t want to admit at first, but there was something about you that made him want to settle down. Now he was wanting nothing more to spend the rest of his life with you. 

Kuai Liang

Because You Loved Me- Celine Dion

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O3XGynvy_V4

You were my strength when I was weak You were my voice when I couldn't speak You were my eyes when I couldn't see You saw the best there was in me Lifted me up when I couldn't reach You gave me faith 'cause you believed I'm everything I am Because you loved me

It’s really cheesy. But, Kuai Liang believes since he met you that you made him a better man. He knows he’s far from perfect. Despite all of his flaws you never stopped loving him. 

Johnny Cage 

Addicted to Love- Florence and the Machine  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ycrhIpd4ZWU\

You can't be saved Oblivion is all you crave If there's some left for you You don't mind if you do Whoa, you like to think that you're immune to the stuff, oh yeah It's closer to the truth to say you can't get enough You know you're gonna have to face it, you're addicted to love  

Johnny is a hopeless romantic at heart. It nearly threw him for a loop when you said yes when he asked you to marry him. He can’t get enough of you. (I mean just look at his instagram). He wants to do better with you, it feels like you’ve given him this second chance and he won’t mess up this time. 

Raiden 

Jasmine Flower 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y7hdZ5rYd2E

What a beautiful Jasmine flower 

What a beautiful Jasmine flower 

A spray of fragrance and lovely petals 

Everyone loves your snow-white buds 

Let me pick a jasmine flower 

And give it to my beau 

Raiden loves you with every fiber of his being. He’ll often compare your time together like a flower. Whatever time you have together he’ll make the most of it. Raiden knows he can be a difficult man to love, but he’s thankful that you’re here. 

Cassie Cage 

I’d Be Your Wife- Mary Lambert 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=647DC53QE7o

You're the song I've been singing

All of my life And every piece of me loves every piece of you You were right for me right from the start Especially when you said you liked NPR and sleeping and drinking coffee And playing Scrabble and I think you're really cute

It hurts to admit, but Cassie never had the time for a serious relationship. Being in Special Forces kind of did that. Like, Erron she didn’t think she would ever settle down, but when she met you she fell hard. She loves so much, and can’t wait to spend the rest of her life with you. 

Jax 

Like I’m Gonna Lose You- Meghan Trainor ft. John Legend 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DC8FsIdVi9Y

So I'll kiss you longer baby Any chance that I get I'll make the most of the minutes And love with no regretsLet's take our time to say what we want Here's what we got before it's all gone 'Cause no, we're not promised tomorrow so I'm gonna love you like I'm gonna lose you I'm gonna hold you like I'm saying goodbye Wherever we're standing I won't take you for granted 'Cause we'll never know when, when we'll run out of time

Jax has been through a lot. Like Raiden he won’t hold back loving you. He wants to settle down with you and grow old. You’ve helped him a lot in terms of recovery. Jax just wants to pay you back by giving you the best life possible. 

Jacqui Briggs 

Lucky- Jason Mraz & Colbie Caillat

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LQCY2zL0Jr8

I'm lucky I'm in love with my best friend Lucky to have been where I have been Lucky to be coming home again Lucky we're in love in every way Lucky to have stayed where we have stayed Lucky to be coming home someday

Like Cassie, she never had a serious relationship outside of anyone in SF. Thankfully you were her best friend. Though you never joined Speical Forces you and here stayed in constant contact with each. You're her partner in crime and she can come to you for anything. She feels so lucky to marry you. 

Nightwolf 

Danny’s Song- Loggins and Messina 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4FDcTyyXQb8

Love the girl who holds the world in a paper cup Drink it up Love her and she'll bring you luck And if you find she helps your mind Buddy, take her home Yeah, don't you live alone Try to earn what lovers own

Nightwolf lived a simple life growing up. When he’s with you he wants to give you the world, but sometimes he can’t. Part of him wonders what would have happened if he did join Kano. Just one look at you reminds him of why he didn’t. You don’t material things when you have your whole world looking back you. 

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat headcanon #headcanons #mkx #mk 11 #Hanzo Hasashi #hanzo hasashi x reader #mk kabal #kabal #kabal x reader #sub zero x reader #sub zero #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #mk raiden #raiden x reader #cassie cage #cassie cage x reader #Jax Briggs #jax briggs x reader #jacqui briggs #jacqui briggs x reader #nightwolf #nightwolf x reader #x reader #mortal kombat x reader

[venusofthehardsells]

I’ll take my heart this time [one-shot]

Empath!ReaderxLoki Summery: After helping the Avengers save the world from an alien army, the reader must confront her life-long devotion to the God of Mischief. Warnings: angst, toxic relationship, mentions of past abuse if you squint A/N: This ended up longer and... very different than intended. What can I say, apparently this Reader does what she wants too. This was written for @connorshero s 2K Song Fic Writing Challenge (embarrassingly late, thanks tumblr for flagging my blog) and my prompt was the song “Better Than I Know Myself” by Adam Lambert, a song I love a little obsessively. Enjoy! _____ Thor stopped on the doorstep when he saw the state of the room.  "You're leaving?" The disbelief in his voice, the hurt, resonated within you, but you firmly kept folding the sheet you had taken off the bed. There was no need for an answer. Anyone could tell you were practically halfway out the door already.

You had donned your overcoat and boots, and your few belongings were stashed in a leather bag pack on one of the chairs. Every surface in here had been cleared of things and swiped down. There was only the bedding left, which you were now neatly folding and placing on the naked duvet. "Why?" Your stomach clenched, but you managed to get a calm answer out of the emotional slaughter still raging in your mind. "I promised to stay and help defeat the alien intruders. They are defeated, so..." You left the sentence hanging in the air. "Yes, but there is no need for you to go. My brother... I mean, we all hoped that you would become a permanent part of the team." "You know that I can't." Thor wore his feelings plainly on his face and the way his pale blue eyes now bristled with pity was as clear as day to you. "But you love him," he said quietly. You snorted to hide the fact that your carefully constructed indifference was slowly coming apart from his words. "It hardly matters..." Your voice was trembling now and it made you angry. Why couldn't you control your own damn feelings when it came to Loki? Even after all this time... "My dear, you wiped out an entire army because you couldn't bear the thought of losing him. Of course it matters!" "He used me!," you cried, feeling tears stinging in your eyes now. "He knew how I would react, how I would feel..." It was too much.You crumbled as you set a sheet of tears free down your cheeks and allowed yourself to sob. Thor was at your side at once and gently placed his large arms around you. "He also knew it was the only way we could win," he said reasonably and you were briefly proud your chaotic emotions weren't rubbing off on him. You kept sobbing in his embrace, wishing it was Loki's, wishing you had been a better guard of your heart all those years ago. "Please don't leave him," Thor mumbled after a while when the sobs had finally stopped raking your body and instead left you trembling and silently heaving for breath. "Loki is too proud to admit it, but he is better with you." "You're right," you managed, biting your lip. "He is too proud. And I am a fool for wanting the impossible." Slipping back into a frail shell of the control you usually wielded, you slowly detached yourself from Thor and went to pick up your bag. You grabbed one of the straps so tightly your nails cut into your palm and made little crescent indentations. The pain kept you grounded. "Farewell Thor, Son of Odin. It was an honour fighting beside you." There was something akin to mourning in Thor's expression now as he lightly shook his head but nevertheless he acknowledged your goodbye. "The honour was mine." You swallowed the lump that had built up in your throat again and turned to leave. You had taken less than two steps down the hallway when a shout made you hold your steps. "Wait!" That particular voice made your legs freeze up for about two seconds. Then you resumed your path at twice the pace. You made it halfway towards the lift before Loki's hand was around your wrist. "Please, stop." It was a mistake to turn your head and look at him. Whenever you did, you had to wonder if he didn't have the same powers as yourself after all. Those startlingly beautiful eyes that shone like a pair of bright precious stones always took your breath away. Even now, even hating him, you found yourself short of breath as his eyes bore into yours. "Let go of me, Loki." You were better at controlling your feelings than your voice and it didn't come out as coldly as you wanted it to. "I have a flight to catch." "Whereto?" "Does it matter? This world ought to be big enough for us never to have to meet again." You tore your wrist from his grip. "Is that what you want?" The fact that he had the audacity to sound remorseful beneath the calmness of his demeanour made a spark of anger flare up in you. Did he honestly believe, after everything he had witnessed, after everything you had done, that such a simple acting trick would work in his favour? "How dare you?," you whispered, feeling your throat constrict with each word and breath that left your mouth. "How dare you say it like that?!" "What do you mean?" Loki took less than half a step away from you, but his eyes never left yours. And they were searching. As if he truly couldn't fathom what made you look at him with such contempt. "You are unbelievable! After all this time... how can you possibly have to ask me what I want?" Tears stung in your eyes again, but you suddenly realised you were beyond caring. He had taken everything you could offer him: your love. Your friendship and your council, your unwavering support, your powers, your devotion, your body even, years and years of your life and, eventually, your very soul. Let him have your dignity as well. "I have given you everything, Loki. And you have shown me time and time again that it isn't enough for you. I killed thousands in your name... But I would have killed millions more if it meant winning your heart. I would have done anything. You have known that for as long as you've known me. Isn't that why you asked for my help? Because you knew? Even after what you put me through, when you called I came running. To you." Your insides hurt when you paused to breathe. Your cheeks were wet with tears that wouldn't stop spilling from your eyes and you cursed them to Hel and back for betraying your feelings so blatantly in front of Loki. "But it's over. I am done playing this wicked game of yours where I accept whatever scraps of affection you can spare at the time, like some loyal dog who still licks the hand that beats it. The next time you need help, Your Highness, call someone else." Your voice was in shambles by the time you finished speaking. Every word hurt to get out. From the tips of your fingers through your bones until they scratched their way past your tongue, they burned and seared inside of you, and once they were out they left you feeling empty and naked beneath Loki's silent emerald stare. The worst of it, however, was not how you felt.It was the bitter sting of heartache coming from him. Loki drew in a deep, almost careful breath as if the silence between you following your words would explode if he cut it the wrong way. "You're right," he said quietly, eyeing you with apprehension the way one might a feral animal. "I've always taken your devotion for granted..." You hardly dared move when he whispered your name. "I'm sorry." It felt as if your heart might stop right then and there. You let out a strangled little sort of gasp, clutching your bag pack close like a shield. The fact that you hadn't turned and walked further away from him seemed to reassure him a little. "I want you to know I truly mean it when I say I didn't wish to cause you any more pain when I asked you to come here. Quite the opposite to be honest. I also know you won't believe me..." Loki almost chuckled at that, though the anguish he was feeling was still clear on his face. "I have given you no reason to trust me in the past." You swallowed when he hesitated. "So I'm going to offer you proof instead." Then he held out his hand. Unlike almost everyone else, Loki had in time learned to conceal his true feelings for you or at least make it harder for you to read them. His emotions took a lot of effort for you to make out if he didn't want you to know them. Unless you touched him directly. His outreached hand to you was him baring himself of all defences. If you took it there would be nothing shielding him. He couldn't lie his way out of it; you could completely undress his heart. Your fingers trembled. It would be so easy to reach out and touch those long pale fingers of his and finally find out how he felt. Once and for all. "Please," he urged when you didn't move. There was a slight shiver in his voice that you were sure he hadn't meant for you to hear. He made no attempt to hide the fact that he was growing more and more desperate with every second that passed without you moving towards him.You shook your head. "I can't." A hint of his panic reached you, but you made sure not to mix it with the chaos of your own. "I can't do this again. You've... you've broken my heart so many times, I don't think I'll survive it if you do it again." Your words were barely a whisper, but you might as well have shouted them for how Loki flinched. "I won't. I've been a fool in the past and I realise that you have already given me more chances than I deserve... But I am begging you for just one more. Please..." "Loki..." "Take my hand. I... I need you." His voice fell to a whisper. "I can't lose you." There was no mistaking that his eyes were glistening now. Your name lay softly and quivering on his lips and it felt as if your heart had stopped in your chest. If you hadn't known him most of your life and if you hadn't been in a disturbingly similar situation only a few centuries earlier, you would have leapt right at him with open arms.You couldn't hold back the sob that had been building up in your throat and grown so big it was hurting you. "Stop it," you whimpered, frantically shaking your head now. "It's over. The line between love and hate is the width of a strand of hair, Loki. And I've been stumbling along it for as long as I can remember... You never deserved my love." The words tasted acidic in your mouth. You fixed him with a long, hard stare that was probably not half as intimidating as you imagined given your current state of distress, but you might as well have stabbed Loki in the gut for how devastated he looked. "But the worst part is that after everything, after all you've done... after all you've endured..." Your voice quavered with pent up mourning for him that never seemed to stop. "You don't deserve my hate either. If I leave, you won't have any of the two. You can start afresh." Loki swallowed. Hard. At long last, you could feel him let go of the final shred of pride holding him back. He closed the distance between you and placed both hands tenderly against your temples. Over the past thousand years, you had touched each other more times than you could possibly count, and in much more intimate ways. But it had never felt like this. Despite the cold in his fingertips, rush after rush of warmth spilled from the places his skin touched yours, filling you with a serene sense of comfort and familiarity and, overwhelmingly, bliss. “Please, don’t do this…,” he intoned in a frail murmur, about to utterly shatter. “Don’t walk away. I’m not ready to let you go. I love you.” It felt as if all the air in the corridor was sucked out of your lungs and right out of reach. The tears turned to glass in your eyes. He really meant it. The words you had always longed to hear. He meant them with all his heart. The very thing you had never ever thought would cross his lips. He felt them with all of his being. I love you. I love you. Loki leaned in and the world fell away at the touch of his lips. You closed your eyes and pressed yourself into his gentle hold, into his desperate kiss, his quivering hands, his very existence. You were acutely aware of everything that was him. Hair, skin, bones, blood and the way his eyelids fluttered shut, the movement of his mouth against yours as he hungrily sucked on your bottom lip to press the heat of his tongue against your own in a fervent dance that a part of you never wanted to cease. Loki. Time stilled as you descended into the fabric of his mind. From the wide hallways of his ambitions to the darkest corners of his secret desires, his soul was laid bare to your scrutiny. Oh, the mind has mountains. In that moment, nothing moved outside the two of you. You took your time feeling your way through everything he in his candour offered up. You had never been this deeply connected before. In your youth, your powers had yet to blossom to their full potential and it had been a struggle to forge the control that you now wore as a second skin. Later in your years, you had mastered your powers, but so had Loki. And his magic and mental wards had been almost as formidable as your empathic abilities. Almost. You sucked in a deep breath as you broke away from him. “I believe you,” you said softly, grasping his hands tightly in your own. Your heart was beating evenly for the first time in days, but it was nothing to the clarity that rushed through your veins now. “And I’m sorry.” “What…” “I’m sorry that the first person you trusted enough to be vulnerable with is letting you down. You don’t deserve that either.” You lifted your clasped hands and gently kissed his knuckles without breaking eye contact. “But if I stay here… with you…” You shook your head with a sad smile and the burning agony that shot through your hands then would have made you crumble if you hadn’t felt it so many times before yourself. The feeling of his heart breaking almost made you waver in your decision. But unlike you, he didn’t have to bear it alone. “I don’t understand…,” Loki whispered. His voice felt like a shard of glass against your skin. “I love you…” “It’s not enough.” “Don’t say that. I want you. You’ve always been there for me, I… I can be better.” “I know you can. And you will.” As calmly as you could, you allowed some of your newfound clarity to flow into him and slowly, softly, ease his tortured mind. “If I stay, nothing will change. You forget that I know you better than you know yourself now.” You managed a small smile when you felt the edge crack off Loki’s heartache and leave a dull mound behind where before stood a steep and sharp peak. You were not going to leave him the same broken mess he had so often left you. “I think you always did,” he said quietly, a slight quiver moving his lower lip. “I’m sorry.” He squeezed your hands one last time, leaving several small indents in the shape of new moons on your skin, before you let them fall away. “Goodbye, Loki.” You left him standing in the corridor of the compound, not turning back once. Your heart was still tattered and torn beyond recognition, but for the first time in your life, it wasn’t beating for someone else. You were free.

#loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki fanfic #loki angst #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson x you #sadies2kfollowersongficwc #marvel #marvel fanfic

[chorddebtor0-blog]

Michael Kenny’s Offseason Plan, and Plan Tracker

Before I get started with my own plan, I wanted to share the link to the South Side Sox offseason plan tracker spreadsheet, which I’ll be updating as all of your plans roll in. This will give us an idea of which decisions are the most popular, how much everyone is giving up in money and trades, and more.

2018-19 SSS Offseason Plan Tracker

Sorry, White Sox fans, but the window is not opening in 2019.

It could have, had things gone better in 2018. Yoán Moncada could’ve broken out for 4 or 5 WAR instead of backing into 2 and looking like 0. Michael Kopech could’ve stayed healthy and lived up to the hype. Any other prospect could’ve stayed healthy. Seriously, was Dylan Cease the only guy in the whole farm system that didn’t get injured? That’s ironic.

With Moncada providing more questions than answers, Kopech tearing his UCL, Lucas Giolito falling apart, Eloy Jiménez being held back, and a big ol’ pile of injuries in the minors, it’s become clear that 2019 is not the year. The Sox need another season of development to get the answers they currently lack, which makes pushing toward contention this winter a futile exercise.

Any moves the Sox make this offseason need to be with 2020 and 2021 in mind. In 2020, Moncada, Giolito, and Reynaldo López will have one more season under their belts, Jiménez will be settled in, Kopech will return, and the second wave of prospects will arrive in the majors. In 2021, Carlos Rodón and Yolmer Sánchez will reach free agency. Those two seasons represent the convergence of most of the organization’s talent, and hopefully enough players will take steps forward to extend the window well beyond that.

Of course, the two names on everyone’s minds are Bryce Harper and Manny Machado. I’m sure either of those guys would be thrilled to sign with a team that just lost 100 games, and I’m sure the White Sox would offer them enough money to do it, especially since they’re known for giving out blockbuster contracts. There are simply too many teams with too much money, too much existing talent, and too much TWTW for the Sox to even be a footnote in those negotiations.

My goal is to set this team up for future success knowing that the blockbuster is not happening, but hoping that they’ll go all in a year from now, when the time is right. Let’s get to it!

Arbitration-Eligibles

José Abreu – $16 million – TENDER

Avisaíl García – $8 million – TENDER

Yolmer Sánchez – $4.7 million – TENDER

Carlos Rodón – $3.7 million – TENDER

Matt Davidson – $2.4 million – TENDER

Leury García – $1.9 million – TENDER

The first four on this list are easy decisions. I wouldn’t blame you if you non-tendered Leury or Davidson, although I think they can both still be moderately useful players and their salaries won’t break the bank. If either has to be DFA’d midseason to give someone else a chance, so be it, but they stay for now.

Options

You already know how this goes in real life; James Shields’ option was declined, and Nate Jones’s option was picked up. Jones presents a tough decision, but I think that it’s wise to give him one more chance to pitch a full, healthy season. He hasn’t lost any velocity through all of these injuries, so there’s still hope that he can get back to pitching effectively.

Impending Free Agents

Miguel González (2018 salary: $4.75 million) – LET GO

Hector Santiago (2018 salary: $2 million) – LET GO

There are far too many pitchers in this organization to give any more innings to either of these guys.

Free Agent Signings

Sign RHP Nathan Eovaldi to a 3-year, $51 million contract.

After missing all of 2017 following Tommy John surgery, Eovaldi picked up right where he left off with a 3.60 FIP in 111 innings. He’s an above-average starter when healthy, and it’s unfortunate that he had such a great postseason because he’s no longer as under-the-radar as he was a month ago. I’m signing him for three years, although now I’m a bit worried that it will take four to get a deal done, so I’m upping the annual value to compensate.

Eovaldi issued just 20 walks this season, so he’ll be a great addition to a pitching staff that led the majors in free passes (653). He also generates a healthy amount of ground balls (46.8 percent career). Basically, Eovaldi should help to stabilize a highly uncertain 2019 rotation, and if he continues to pitch well, he becomes an asset to the team in 2020-21 or a trade chip to acquire help elsewhere.

Sign LHP Drew Pomeranz to a 1-year, $9 million contract.

The Sox already had one hole to fill in the rotation, but with Michael Kopech down for the count it’s probably a good idea to add another. For that reason, I’m signing both Eovaldi, a pitcher on the rise, and Pomeranz, a reclamation project.

Pomeranz posted back-to-back 3-win seasons before bombing with the Red Sox this year. He spent two months on the disabled list with biceps tendinitis, and the issue sapped both his velocity (90 mph average fastball, down from 92) and control (5.35 BB/9). He got some of his zip back in the second half, but the Red Sox bumped him to the bullpen after they acquired... Nathan Eovaldi.

Eovaldi and Pomeranz fill out the rotation, with Jordan Stephens the next man up out of Charlotte. There’s also a chance that Dylan Cease forces his way into the conversation, but given the nature of pitching there will always be opportunities.

Sign C Jeff Mathis to a 1-year, $2 million contract.

I really don’t know what to do about Omar Narváez. His bat is legit, but his glove does not belong at catcher. Like, at all. A guy who hits .275/.366/.429 shouldn’t feel like a fringe major leaguer, but that’s how much value he gives back with his defense. I gave a lot of thought to just moving Narváez to third base this offseason (hey, it worked for Brandon Inge), but I think the most realistic solution is to make him a part-time catcher, part-time 1B/DH. That will diminish his offensive value, but it will also limit his defensive damage.

Given Narváez’s limitations, Welington Castillo isn’t the right catcher to pair with him. I think keeping Omar as a catcher requires bringing in a defensive specialist as his caddy, and Mathis can be that guy. He’s a banjo hitter, to be sure, but he’s also an excellent defender. There’s a reason he’s continued to find work despite a career 50 wRC+. Oof, did I say 50? Well, ultimately he’s just keeping this spot warm for Seby Zavala.

Trades

Acquire 3B Maikel Franco from the Phillies for OF Blake Rutherford and RHP Jimmy Lambert.

The Phillies are looking to make a huge splash this offseason, and they can’t afford to wait around on Franco to realize his potential when Machado and others are there for the taking. At 26, Franco is still mostly projection because he’s yet to live up to his former elite prospect hype. He showed signs of life this year with a 105 wRC+, but his performance has been uninspiring overall, in part due to some conditioning issues. Give him a change of scenery, get him in the Best Shape of His Life, and maybe he’ll run with the new opportunity.

The Sox have such a ridiculous glut of outfielders and pitchers that they can start dipping into it a bit to diversify their assets and take a risk on a player like Franco, who has three more years of control. Rutherford and Lambert are expendable without putting the depth of the system in jeopardy.

Acquiring an everyday third baseman also allows Yolmer Sánchez to shift into a super-sub role, where I think he can be very valuable on a good team. If Franco flops, Sánchez can just take the hot corner back. This also means saying goodbye to José Rondón, but I don’t really believe his low-average power surge is sustainable.

Acquire RHP Stiward Aquino from the Angels for C Welington Castillo and $3 million.

I really liked the Castillo signing at the time. The only reason I didn’t include him in my plan last year was because I didn’t think the Sox would be able to get him. Of course, a midseason PED suspension is a great way to kill any goodwill with your organization and fanbase.

Moreover, as I said above, Castillo just doesn’t fit on this team anymore. Unfortunately, these factors combined give the Sox about as much leverage on the trade market as they had with Nick Swisher. I suspect some team that really needs help behind the plate will allow Castillo to don the tools of ignorance, but they’ll want to acquire him at a discount and give up little in return.

I imagine the Los Angeles Angels would take on Castillo given that their current catchers are a 29-year old rookie, a 26-year-old rookie, and Kevan Smith. In exchange they’re sending Aquino, a 19-year-old pitcher with a lanky 6-foot-6 frame who lost his 2018 to Tommy John surgery.

Other Moves

Offer OF Eloy Jiménez a 7-year, $50 million extension.

I don’t expect Jiménez to sign an early-career extension the way many young White Sox players have. He’s a star waiting in the wings, and the Sox done him wrong at the end of 2018. That said, a record-shattering deal like this might get his attention given that his amateur signing bonus was a mere $2.8 million. It would also spare both sides the “Work on your defense for two weeks” charade.

In all likelihood, the charade is still on. If it is, Nicky Delmonico breaks camp with the major league team and, barring injury, he’s the odd man out come April 12.

Get Matt Davidson on a mound.

Seriously. I don’t think there’s any reason that a team can’t lean on its backup DH to throw two or three innings in garbage time. In an era where relievers are more important than ever, converting a defensively limited guy into a two-way player and pitching him in low-leverage situations can spare the rest of the bullpen. It may even allow the Sox to forego whatever random junkballer veteran swingman they would need instead. It’s the new market inefficiency!

The Roster

Lineup

2B Yoán Moncada C Omar Narváez 1B José Abreu DH Daniel Palka LF Nicky Delmonico Eloy Jiménez RF Avisaíl García 3B Maikel Franco SS Tim Anderson CF Adam Engel

Bench

C Jeff Mathis UT Yolmer Sánchez OF Leury García 1B/RHP Matt Davidson

Rotation

LHP Carlos Rodón RHP Nathan Eovaldi RHP Reynaldo López LHP Drew Pomeranz RHP Lucas Giolito

Bullpen

RHP Ian Hamilton LHP Jace Fry RHP Zack Burdi RHP José Ruiz RHP Nate Jones RHP Thyago Vieira LHP Caleb Frare (Or swap in Ryan Burr, Carson Fulmer, Aaron Bummer, Juan Minaya, Dylan Covey, etc.)

Summary

You may have noticed that this team is not that good, but it’s a pretty big step forward from 2018. If things break right, they could push into the 75-to-80-win range, and that would set the table for a serious push in 2020.

This team’s payroll is in the neighborhood of $88 million, and only Eovaldi and Tim Anderson (and possibly Jiménez) have guaranteed contracts beyond 2019. That kind of flexibility opens up endless possibilities for next offseason, when the free agent market will be headlined by players like these:

Source: https://www.southsidesox.com/2018/11/1/18038098/michael-kennys-offseason-plan-and-plan-tracker

#read more #see more #check it out #interesting #learn more