#even if i get to introduce one person to a fic that’s going to brighten a few hours

[hephaestiions]

last stretch of the semester & i’ve been crying at various airports across the country while banging my laptop in despair & this notif made me do a lil happy giggle sequence in the middle of it all, thanku anon (WHO ARE YOU, come talk fic w me!!) & liv, feeling very kissed on the cheek by angels atm, delighted to be back 💙

@hephaestiions' day 7 recfest entry (and all the ones before) was lovely! it's been good to see her back & active in fandom, and it's exciting to have a new reccer to follow!

Couldn’t agree more, it’s been a treat to follow her incredible Rec Fest posts! Happy to see you back @hephaestiions 💜

[goldsainz]

SAFE HAVEN — one shot.

pairing: daniel ricciardo x verstappen!reader

2K CELEBRATION. MASTERLIST.

taglist: @lorarri @lpab @whatthefuckerr @noncannonships @lunnnix @elliegrey2803

summary: daniel is the one thing in your life that truly brightens your day.

request: “You're my family too with Danny Ric?”

warnings: childhood trauma (mentioned, nothing explicit), daddy issues, estranged siblings.

NOTE: not me making this a verstappen sister fic… honestly, if i can’t trauma dump in my fics then where will i? just kidding (or not), honestly it was not intento al to do this but i go too in the moment and then it was perfect to make this verstappen reader😭 please listen to matilda by harry styles while reading this, it’s too perfect no to!

[ word count: 2,2k ]

“I wouldn’t want to intrude, Danny.”

Summer break. A dreaded time of the year for you. 

It’s the one time where there is genuinely no excuse for you to not see your family, to not interact with the one person who made your brother who he was and broke who you were. 

Since you were little Max had always come first. From the endless trips around Europe to compete in the different Karting events, to the amount of time your father devoted to him, your brother had become number one since the moment your father could do so. 

Money wasn’t necessarily tight, but with your parents divorced and your mother struggling with the absence of her son, there definitely wasn’t a lot of free realm to roam as you pleased. 

You became devoted to school, devoted to distract yourself from the mess that your life progressively became. You had become obsessed with understating how racing had become the be-all end-all of your life. Education was the one thing no one batted an eye at when it became the one thing you spent your time on.

There were moments where you were allowed to go to races. If it was close to your home and the fees weren’t outrageous to the life you led, you could tag along. It came with stipulations though, your father always made it clear you were to never disturb Max from his pre-race shenanigans and that you were to watch but never interact, you weren’t allowed to talk any rival to Max much less befriend them. And for your younger self, these rules were absurd but not absurd enough to defy them.

As you grew older, and studying became more demanding, a gap formed between your brother and you. There was no more time to attend races, and so, when your brother joined F1 you had already finished engineering college. Connections were everything in the racing world, and you knew that the opportunity to be an engineer for Red Bull Racing wouldn’t have been so quick if your brother wasn’t connected with them. You couldn’t say you weren’t grateful in that moment of the path your brother had taken, because that opportunity would introduce you to the most important person in your life.

Daniel Ricciardo is sunshine personified. That was the one thing you knew about him before even meeting him. The day you met him was the day your life became brighter and funnier. Your job wasn’t necessarily boring, in fact it had become the one passion that was truly yours and no one criticised, but having Daniel be a constant part of it made the experience precious.

You think that’s how you got so involved with the Aussie, how you waited every day for him to smile at you and start a conversation. It made your day better when he gave you attention, even if it was just the littlest amount; it didn’t matter. Attention was attention, and you were getting it from the one person you wanted it from.

Watching the man you longed for become so close to your brother, someone who had become almost a stranger save for the name you shared, was heart-shattering. It made the reality of things stick out, the fact that there could be nothing between the two of you became more real. Not only was it inappropriate in a work sense, but now it felt wrong to go after a person your brother was friendly with. Even if you were older, even if you didn’t talk much with your brother, even then, you weren’t about to risk the repercussions your actions could have.

You saw how his career went on. Watched as he went to Renault, and by proxy, left you behind as he started a new chapter in his life. All the stolen glances you had shared became illicit, from the bond he shared with your brother to him being part of another team, there was no real way to connect with him without being suspicious. It wasn’t like you could go up to Max and ask him how he was doing. 

From time to time, Daniel would ask you how you were doing. He passed by you in the paddock and couldn’t help but smile and wave at you. The action made your insides tingle and have a light blush creep on your cheeks.

You knew it wasn’t weird to watch his Instagram stories, to like his posts, he followed you too and you knew he watched your posts too. But you hoped it wasn’t something preoccupying to watch him have fun on the summer break with his family, sharing barbecues on his farm back in Perth. It gave you a sense of longing that you learned to despise with each passing year.

This year was no different, except this year Daniel was back with Red Bull. 

You remember the exact moment the news broke that Daniel wouldn’t be a part of the 2023 season, and how devastating watching him announce the news in a video was. It made you feel for him, you knew it wasn’t a foreign situation in F1, it was more common than it should’ve been. Especially working in Red Bull, a team that was known for their cruelty with drivers. Hypocritical or not, having the one person who was always nice to everyone no matter what he treated in such a way, when everyone knew the results he was getting weren’t a show of his talent but rather the incompetence of a team, was undeserved.

This time, you were both older and had been through enough to understand your feelings. There was a shift in the dynamic you and Daniel shared. He was aware of the fact that you always held back from truly opening up to him because of your brother, because you cared too much about him and didn’t want to worsen your relationship with him. He didn’t know of the promises you made to your father when you were younger, but he knew you were holding back.

Maybe that’s why he went out of his way to talk to you. He approached you at any given moment he could, if he saw you sitting alone while working he would pause whatever he had going and sit next to you. At first you didn’t mention his increasing interest in you, but after a while you asked him if he needed anything from you; which he did, but not in the way you meant it. 

You suppose it wasn’t totally unexpected when stolen glances turned into stolen kisses. After knowing him for over 7 years your mouths slotting against one another didn’t feel as foreign as it should’ve, it felt right, like you should’ve been doing that all along.

If there was one thing Daniel Ricciardo tried to not be was an eavesdropper. He didn’t want to hear something he didn’t want to or intrude in a private conversation. But, hearing you talk was a melody he felt he should never be deprived of. So when he heard you talking to a fellow engineer, he just couldn’t help himself. 

“You’re not doing anything for summer break?” The engineer asked.

“Honestly, I’m probably gonna go home and read a couple of books alone.” By the tone of your words, he knew you were hiding your emotions in poor humour.

“Well, that’s one way to spend your summer.” 

You just chuckled, “I guess so, yeah. Maybe I’ll see my family, too.” 

“Don’t see them enough already?” Daniel knew the engineer was just poking fun at the fact that your family was actually very present in your day-to-day life.

“Probably more than enough, but nothing like being at home with your family, right?” Now the Aussie knew you were just lying to get out of an awkward conversation, there was no actual way you were being honest with your co-worker.

“Well, have fun!”

“You too!” 

The moment the engineer left, your shoulders sagged and the fake smile you were wearing went away.

“So, you're seeing your family during the summer break?” Daniel broke the silence you were in, waking into the room so naturally you would’ve thought he was always there to begin with.

“You’re eavesdropping now, Ricciardo?” 

“Wouldn’t call it eavesdropping if you’re in public,” You smiled at his words, something he could do so easily. Smiling was a no-brainer when Daniel was around.

“I think it’s still eavesdropping.” 

“Agree to disagree.” 

You felt like a high school girl talking to the guy she liked all over again. You hoped the blush that covered your cheeks wasn’t as noticeable as you thought it was, but by the way Daniel was looking at you, it definitely was.

“You’re going back to Perth for the summer break?” You deflect the question he asked, not ready to get into the mess that it is seeing your family.

“Yeah, gonna see my parents and take care of my little farm.” 

“From what I’ve heard it’s anything but little.”

“Oh, how would you know?” He is amused at the knowledge you have of his life, slightly honoured to have your attention in that way.

“Um, Max mentioned it. Like once. But it was so long ago, maybe you have another farm by now, and what I’m saying is totally wrong.” 

Daniel’s laugh is infectious, especially when it comes to you. He’s sure you could say a thing and he would be laughing. 

“My farm is a normal size. I don’t know how many farm’s Max has been to, but mine is nothing special.”

“I hope you have fun then.” You tell him, and you’re being sincere about it. But he knows you’re trying your best not to show how much you long for a calm summer break. He knows that what awaits you back home is nothing short of a wreck, filled with berating from your father and the awkwardness of spending time with people who never really took the time to understand you, while you’ve spend your whole life trying to understand them.

“Come with me.”

You stop picking up your stuff, almost dropping your phone in the process. You look up to him, you watch the vulnerability in his eyes.”

“What?”

“Come with me. Back to Perth.” He repeats, this time clarifying where he means, though there is no need for it because you know exactly what he meant with those three words.

“I can’t.”

“Why?” If there is something you know about Daniel is that he doesn’t back down without a fight, you know he would respect your choice of not going if he knew you really didn’t want to. But after years of knowing you, he is sure you do want to go with him. And you do. You’d go anywhere with him.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude, Danny.”

Those five words are probably the most absurd words he has heard you say since knowing you.

“You wouldn’t.” He watches you throw him a look, a look that tries to tell him he’s wrong, “I promise, Y/N, you wouldn’t be intruding. At all.”

“You’re gonna be with your family,” You say like that explains everything. But to Daniel, it doesn’t. “And I have to be with mine.”

There is a moment where he considers backing down, because yes, what you are saying is technically true. But his family knows so much about you just from pure hearsay, from all the times Daniel has gushed about how great of a person you are. He has the feeling they wouldn’t mind you being there and knows for certain you would fit right in with them.

“You’re my family too.”

“Daniel…” You trail off warily, like you’re scared of the implications his words have.

“You are. You’ve become family to me.” He steps forward and grasps your hands in his, “And I’m sorry that I never said it before, or that I never properly asked you because I was scared of what would happen. But you could be a part of my life, my family, if you want to.”

You’re rendered speechless at his words. It is too much just as it is enough. It is all you’ve wanted to hear for years from him, the confession that his actions are just in your head, that all those times he stared at you like you hung the moon after nights together, weren’t made up. It makes you want to wrap your arms around him and never let him go, so you do.

Hugging him feels perfect. Like there is no place you should ever be but in his arms. You discover something new from Daniel Ricciardo, and it is that he is your family. Slowly but surely he became essential to your life, and loved you like no one else had before.

If there was ever a family you wanted to be a part of, it was his.

[3pirouette]

Fic: Theater Etiquette (1/1)

Title: Theater Etiquette 

By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :) 

Story Summary: Steve and Peggy are in the audience for the first preview of Rogers the Musical. 

A/N: Use your imagination as to how or why they’re there. I picture them young, but you can see them as older.

Thanks to @captainjimothycarter for finding me the full length Disneyland link so I could see this without having to make my way to California. It will help if you’ve seen it, for sure. YouTube has a few versions now.

For Steggy Week 2k23 Day 5: Missing Scenes and Favorite moments

Does this count? Maybe. Rogers the Musical was my FAVORITE part of Hawkeye, so I’m saying it counts.

For the record, I really enjoyed Rogers the Musical for the campy romp it is and I;m very sad I’ll likely not get to see it in person. I fully believe Steve and Peggy would hate it with every fiber of their being. 

~*~

Steve squirmed in his seat as the lights went down and the announcer started talking. 

“I’ve never known you to be so restless,” Peggy muttered, slipping her clutch to her side. “It’s just one performance, then we never have to think of it again.”

“Until they ask me about it in an interview, or it turns into a success and I hear the songs everywhere…” He groaned, dropping his head. “What if they make it into a movie?”

“People deserve to know your story.” Peggy let her hand slip over his, entwining their fingers as the lights started to swirl around the audience. 

“That’s why I wrote a book,” he muttered, “and let the Smithsonian keep half my stuff.”

Peggy rolled her eyes, nudging him with her shoulder. “And what were you going to do with your 70 year old general issue boxer shorts anyway, hum?”

“…the one, the only, Starkettes!”

Steve huffed under his breath. “You’re kidding me. I don’t even get my own singers?”

Peggy squeezed his hand. “You know very well neither Tony nor Howard would have let the chance to name a group of female singers by them.”

“But Tony didn’t write this.”

Peggy shrugged as the stage brightened and the curtains opened, revealing a stylized USO club. “Just… try to enjoy this, can you?” 

“I can’t,” he muttered. “Not when no one gets it. If they did they wouldn’t be stylizing war like this, like some fun, happy time.”

Peggy turned her head. “You know very well this is a musical, and it’s not like life on the home front was Les Miserables, anyway.” She looked him up and down, “Now, just try to be a polite audience, can you?”

He deflated, but nodded. 

They sat quietly as the opening song continued, and Steve only groaned quietly when the setting changed to the Stark Club. 

“This is not factually correct,” Peggy mumbled, eyebrows pinching together as she saw the woman playing her not only be in the scene, but punch a guy in the face. 

Steve squirmed in his seat next to her. “I know.”

“I hadn’t even met you yet.”

“I know, Peg.”

She leaned into his space, whispering into his ear, “How much longer is this?”

Steve just dropped his head, shaking it. “Until intermission, or the end?” 

~*~

Steve huffed. “Oh, Erskine never sounded like that…”

“According to his biography, that actor was last seen in a regional production of Cabaret.” Peggy lifted her eyebrows. “His accent still needs a bit of work…” she listened to the actress playing her introduce herself, “as does hers.”

They both cringed as the lights changed and high notes were sung at the introduction of Steve and Peggy on stage. 

“It wasn’t like that,” Steve muttered quickly. 

“Not at all,” Peggy supplied. 

“You were much more intimidating.”

“And you were much more flustered and adorable.” 

He pecked her on the cheek quickly, then turned back to the stage. “So, they name the Greek chorus after him, but don’t put Stark in this at all? He was a huge part of all this…”

“They’ve also skipped the part where Erskine was murdered in favor of more… spangles, my love.” She squeezed his hand gently. “I told you, not exactly Les Miserables.”

“No, more like propaganda.”

Peggy watched as the USO show morphed into a medley onstage. Streamers fell around them as her character came back on stage to Steve’s excited rant about his performances. 

Peggy leaned into him, laughing into his shoulder. 

“What now?” He asked, nearly exasperated. 

“You were never that confident on stage, my darling.” She looked up at him. “Or as excited about it.”

“No, not in my Dancing Monkey Days.” He shook his head. “I recall that day being much more…”

“Wet,” Peggy supplied, leaning into him. “We were both soaked and muddied up to our shins.”

“Agent Carter, when I return, do you want to go on a date with me?”

Steve sputtered in indignation as Peggy tried to hide her laughter. “Dear lord, they’re butchering this.”

“How did they- why would they-“ 

“Just… try to ignore it, ok?”

Steve did, he watched patiently for a few moments as his life was distilled down into comic book tableaus and silliness. Until he stiffened. 

“Does anyone copy? I’ve successfully taken control of an enemy HYDRA aircraft.”

“No,” he whispered under his breath. 

“Who told them?” Peggy whispered, looking at her avatar on the stage, gripping Steve’s hand tight. “We kept this to ourselves,”

“It’s an Army sanctioned show,” Steve muttered. “This is in the official records. I thought they were classified.”

“Steve? Steve?”

Peggy turned, burying her head in his shoulder. “Of all the things for them to get right…”

Thankfully, Peggy didn’t have time to fall into old memories, because Steve leaned forward as the lights lifted on the stage again. 

“Oh, good lord.” 

“What?” Peggy turned her head, looking back at the stage, where a caricature of Nick Fury was bouncing and singing. 

“He’s not going to be happy about that.”

“Not at all.”

Peggy watched with fascination as the man bounced across the stage in a manner that was so contrary to the man she knew as Fury she couldn’t help but be intrigued. 

“This has to be on purpose,” Steve whispered, entranced. He watched as Fury started introducing Avengers, “I mean, Scott wasn’t even there for that, and we didn’t know about Bucky yet, or Wakanda…” His voice drifted away. 

“How can they get so much wrong,” Peggy mused, shaking her head, “but get Saturday at 8 right?”

It was entrancing, though, and they fell silent as the stage turned into a New York street filled with rubble. Peggy couldn’t help but notice Steve’s foot tapping along to the Act 1 finale.

As the lights came up, Clint turned around in front of them. “You guys are literally the worst, you know that, right?”

Steve and Peggy just eyed him. 

“I had to turn my hearing aid off.” He moved his hand to his ear and flicked t back on. “Chattering away like no one was around you.” He shook his head, standing. “Just because this horrible mess is about you guys doesn’t mean you get to talk through it. Remind me never to go to the movies with you.”

[kelyon]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @abovethemists. Thank you!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

24

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

787,481

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Just Once Upon a Time

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Golden Cuffs

Golden Rings

Dark Mistress

Nephila

Hot Cocoa and Stolen Kisses

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Always, even if it's just to say "Thank You!" I regard responding to comments as a way to remind people that there is a person behind the fics, that I read the comments, and that they really do brighten my day.

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

My motto is "angst with a happy ending," so most of the sadness comes before the final resolution. Technically speaking, I guess Golden Cuffs has the saddest ending, since Belle and Rumple know that all the happiness they've worked for in the Enchanted Forest will be taken away from them once Regina casts the curse.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I'm gonna say Dark Mistress. That's the one where the happy ending strains credulity the most, in my opinion. You just kinda have to go along with the fact that all of Rumple's social stigma is gone and they never have any problems on the farm and both of the new marriages go well and none of them ever get sick or hurt in what I've taken a long time to establish as a pretty bleak world. Nope! Once they get married and become a family, no one ever has problems again.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

The reaction to a plot twist in Golden Cuffs haunts me to this day. Though I would never call that hate. They didn't hate the story, they hated me for doing bad things to characters they loved. I get it. For me, it was a valuable lesson on the distinction between kinkfic and darkfic and how swapping genres in the middle of a work can upset people.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Tee hee. Yeah, I'm all about smut, particularly kink. As a real-life BDSM enthusiast, I take it as my responsibility to convey these experiences as accurately as possible, both physically and emotionally.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I have one crossover to my name, and it is very crazy. Storybrooke Marblelympics is the one where I re-imagine the people of Storybrooke as athletes in a version of Jelle's Marble Runs. @wayamy27narf made some great art of everybody as marbles.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No? No one's told me about it, at least.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

The aforementioned Storybrooke Marblelympics was a co-creation with my wife. We also have an idea for a fic we want to write together someday.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Rumbelle!

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I mean, I'm gonna finish Nephila someday. I just have no idea how.

16. What are your writing strengths?

People tell me I get the characters right, which is really important in fanfic.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Descriptions and exposition. At least, this is where I most often wonder what the heck I'm doing, if I'm telling too much or not enough. I don't know how to introduce the audience to something that is so normal for the characters that it would be weird if they spent time thinking about it. (Like, if I'm sitting in my living room, I'm not looking at it like I've never seen it before.)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

In my perfect version of On the House, Belle's dialogue with Gaston would be in flawless, period-accurate French, with witty wordplay and innuendo. Alas, it has been a very long time since my last French class.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Digimon, though Teen Titans (the old/good one) was my gateway into real internet fandom.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

I feel like Golden Cuffs is the most complete. Like, it tells the story it wants to tell and doesn't get hung up on other things. But I also love Golden Rings for trying to fit in the Season One canon. It's hard for me to judge WIPs because I don't know how they'll turn out, but I really do love thinking about On The House.

Tagging @deliriumsdelight7, @comradegiddybiscuit, @eirian-houpe, and anyone else who wants to do it.

[navybrat817]

Sugar and Spice

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader Summary: You make a sweet impression on one of the new tattoo artists in the neighborhood. Word Count: Over 2.3k Warnings: Flirting, fluff, innuendos, brief moment of insecurity (reader's mom kind of sucks, sorry!), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Future couple, slight angst, and feels. A/N: Because I "need" another tattoo AU, let me introduce you to Hottie and Sugar. ❤️ Thank you to @rookthorne , @sweeterthanthis, @dreamlessinparis, @11thstreetvigilante for listening to me ramble about this man and some future upcoming shennanigans. Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you!), but any and all mistakes are my own. Moodboard by yours truly, divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics, and Bucky edit by the wonderful Nix. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The first time Bucky Barnes walked into your bakery, your best friend and co-owner, Tess, assumed he was lost. Maybe because he didn't appear to be your average customer. A confident aura surrounded him, like he took what he wanted without question. You hadn't encountered a man who looked like sin incarnate before.

It took you a moment to greet him with how dry your mouth had gone.

The stranger didn't smile as he made it to the counter in a few strides. It surprised you that he got through the door with his massive frame. The dark t-shirt and jeans looked painted on and the skin you could see was littered with tattoos. A handsome package wrapped up with chestnut brown hair past his ears, short beard, and steel blue eyes.

Lust at first sight was an understatement.

It was as if he walked out of your wet dreams and into your life.

Sin. Incarnate.

You smiled from ear to ear when you saw him up close, even though he still didn't smile back. You didn't take it personally. Tess once said you were too sweet for your own good, but you replied you never knew what was going on with your customers. Maybe a bit of kindness would brighten their day.

You weren't sure if it was friendliness that he needed, but he wouldn't stop staring at you.

You admitted to yourself later that his gaze made your heart pound and it wasn't out of intimidation.

"Hi. What can I get for you?" you asked.

He blinked and looked toward the display case, giving you a chance to exhale.

When did you start holding your breath?

"Something sweet," he said, his voice huskier than you expected as he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Those were the exact words my punk friend said."

"That's extremely helpful in a bakery," you deadpanned.

His eyebrows shot up as you dropped the serious expression and started laughing. It surprised you when he laughed with you. Not only did you consider his reaction a personal victory, but it made him look even more handsome.

How was that possible?

"Exactly what I said."

"Well, not sure if he's allergic to anything or how many of you are eating, but we can do an assortment of cookies if you'd like," you suggested, walking to the end of the case to show him the different flavors.

"That sounds good. A dozen should work," he said, narrowing his eyes as he placed his large hands on the glass and looked it over again. Was it rude to stare at him? "And since the punk didn't tell me what he wanted, surprise me."

"I'll pick the best flavors," you smiled as you grabbed a box and tongs.

"What's your favorite?" he asked curiously, folding his hands and resting his chin on top of them as you selected the cookies.

Your cheeks flamed when you realized he was watching you. You hoped you didn't drop anything. "Can't go wrong with chocolate chip. It's a classic. If I had to pick a favorite treat overall, I'd pick the caramel chocolate brownie. Simple, but full of flavor."

"I'll take one of those, too, please."

"Sure. You'll have to let me know what you think," you said, placing the best brownie from the batch in a smaller box.

"So, you're saying you want me to come back," he said with a half smile as he pushed himself off the display to follow you back to the register. "Is that it?"

Is he flirting with me? No, he couldn't be.

Your mom chastised you for ending things with your recent boyfriend. According to her, you should've appreciated that a charming, good-looking man wanted you all of all people. It hurt to hear that, but he turned out to be a jerk and you refused to settle for less than what you deserved.

You also wouldn't let negative thoughts cloud your safe space.

"I wouldn't mind," you giggled before you cleared your throat. Even if by some miracle he was hitting on you, you weren't supposed to flirt while you worked. "We like having repeat customers," you added.

"I'm sure you have plenty. It's a cute shop."

You looked for a hint of sarcasm on his face and found none. "Thanks," you said, holding your head a bit higher. The shop was your baby and you took pride in it, always doing your best to make it as bright and welcoming as you could. "And I really would like to know what you think. Always looking to improve if we can."

"It's a good thing I'm just across the street," he said as he got his wallet out. "I can sample the entire menu."

You began to ring him up when you paused. "You don't happen to work in the new tattoo shop, do you?"

Some of the other business owners on the block weren't too happy about a tattoo parlor opening up, afraid that it would attract a rougher crowd. You knew better than to judge a book by its cover. You also felt bad that you hadn't had a chance to go over to introduce yourself.

"Co-owner. What gave it away?" he asked, reminiscent of your deadpan delivery moments ago.

"Oh, just this feeling," you teased, wondering how many tattoos he had hidden under his clothes. You cut that thought off and stopped him when he took some cash out to pay. "On the house as a small welcome to the neighborhood."

He moved his hand over to the tip jar and dropped the money in. "Thanks," he gave you a half smile again as he glanced at the nametag on your bright apron and said your name.

It sounded like honey on his tongue.

"I'm Bucky, by the way. Nice to meet you," he said, taking the boxes.

"Nice to meet you, too," you smiled back, a wave of heat rolling down your chest at the thought of him coming back to see you. "Enjoy the treats."

"I'm sure they'll be as sweet as you, Sugar," he smirked.

You stood there, stunned, as he walked out of the shop. Thankfully it was a slow time of day and you had a moment to fan yourself once you remembered to breathe. You had half a mind to get a tattoo as an excuse to see him again.

"Who the hell was that?" Tess asked from behind you.

You jumped and clutched your chest, forgetting that she was in the shop. "My new crush," you answered without thinking.

"Obviously. I thought he was lost until he ordered something," she snickered as she nudged your shoulder. "You were giggling."

"Yeah. Well, I doubt he'll be back," you mumbled, going to the case to wipe it down.

"Oh, he'll be back. I saw how he looked at you," she said, moving her eyebrows up and down. "You're the sugar he wants to taste."

"Did you see how hot he is? He has plenty of 'sugar' out there and I'm," you waved your hand as you tried to think of a good comparison. "I don't know. I'm Splenda."

"Okay. First, that sounds like your mother talking, which is not allowed in here. Second, you're not Splenda. You're the whole bakery. No putting yourself down in our sanctuary," Tess said sternly. She liked to give you a hard time as your best friend, but she was serious when it came to your love life and self-esteem. "For real. You're a catch."

"Maybe he'll fall in love after he eats the brownie I gave him," you joked.

"That's the spirit," Tess said, graciously not calling you out on your deflection. "He'll be back."

You didn't want to get your hopes up over a stranger, but you did want to see him again.

You just didn't expect him to visit your shop again the very next day.

"So," he said when he went to the counter and set his hands on it, blocking out everything behind him. "About that brownie."

"Yeah?" you asked breathlessly, praying you looked halfway decent. "What did you think?"

"Best fucking brownie I've ever had," he grinned and rubbed his stomach. The praise rendered you speechless. "What else is good here?"

Me. I'm good.

You wished you said what was on your mind, but you gave him one of the leftover sample cakes instead.

It went on like that for over a week. Bucky would stop in and select a new dessert. On the slower days, he tried the treat at the counter and chatted with you. Tess messaged you on your day off to tell you how disappointed he looked when you weren't there. He bought two items when you saw him the next day.

The brownie was still his favorite.

So you decided to surprise him when he showed up at his usual time. The blue Henley made his eyes stand out more and the smile he gave you sent heat through your core. Your hand managed not to shake as you held up a plate for him. You couldn't help but want to impress him.

"Is that my brownie?" he asked when he went to greet you.

"With a twist. Caramel chocolate brownie, but I added chocolate fudge frosting," you replied, handing it to him. His fingers touched yours and you wished at that moment that the counter didn't separate the two of you. "I hope you like it."

"I'm sure I will," he said, keeping his eyes on you as he brought the brownie to his mouth and took a bite. They slipped shut as he let out a deep moan. His head fell back briefly, too.

Your fingers twisted in your apron as you pressed your thighs together. Did he do that on purpose or was it that good? You didn't think your treats were worthy of pornographic sounds.

"Fucking delicious," he promised as he opened his eyes and took another bite. "It'll hurt my feelings if you don't add this to the menu."

"Thank you. I'm glad you like it," you said, wondering if the words sounded as breathless as you felt.

"I haven't tried a single thing here I didn't like, Sugar."

"Why do you keep calling me 'Sugar'?"

"'Cause you seem sweet, like these treats you make for everyone," Bucky stated as a matter of fact. "I can stop if you don't like it."

"Please, don't stop," you said. You liked hearing it from him.

He smirked as he licked a bit of frosting off his thumb, your mouth salivating at the sight. "Not how I expected to hear those words from you."

Blood rushed to your cheeks as your brain tried to process what he said. You could play it cool. Or play along. "Well, Hottie, if you're lucky, you might hear them in a different way."

Bucky's mouth shifted from a smirk to a full blown grin. "Hottie?"

You tried to summon the ground to swallow you up, but it didn't work.

"Well. Yeah. I mean, you call me Sugar, which makes you Spice. Spices can be hot and you're a hottie," you said with as much dignity as possible before you giggled. "Or I can just call you Bucky and we forget this entire conversation."

"I won't forget. My memory can be fuzzy at times, but I'll remember this conversation," he promised, tapping his temple. "And keep calling me that. I like it."

You leaned across the counter, trying to look as enticing as possible. At least, as much as you could in your work apron. He visited the shop multiple times now and he was definitely flirting with you now. You could make a move.

Don't be Splenda. Be the whole bakery.

"Bucky, would you want to-"

The door swung open before you could finish your question, your shoulders slumping in defeat. "There you are, Buck. Andy is actually smiling at someone. Hal's trying to get a picture. You gotta see this."

Bucky's nostrils flared as he closed his eyes. "Fucking punk."

He sounds as disappointed as I feel.

"Friend of yours?" you guessed.

"That's just Steve with his impeccable timing."

Bucky stepped aside so you could get a look at his friend. The man was just as large as your newfound crush, also covered in tattoos with long, blonde hair and a trimmed beard. And he was beaming at you.

"You must be Sugar. Buck mentioned you."

"Is that right?" you asked.

"Oh, yeah," Steve smiled. "Hasn't shut up about you."

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you gazed at the brunette. He didn't look ashamed or embarrassed as he stared back. You must have made some sort of good impression on him if he spoke to a friend about you.

"Are you working tomorrow?" he asked, ignoring his friend for the time being as he handed you his empty plate.

"Yeah. I'm opening the shop," you answered.

"If I'm not arrested for murdering my best friend, I'll come back and we can finish our conversation," he said as Steve frowned. You couldn't stop yourself from smiling. "If that's okay with you."

Who in their right mind would say "no"?

"More than okay. I'll see you tomorrow," you said, giving Steve a wave as Bucky stomped toward him. "Nice meeting you, Steve."

"You, too. Keep making those cookies! They're so good!" he chuckled as his friend chased him out of the shop.

"Oh, who the hell was that?!" Tess shouted from the back of the office.

"A friend with bad timing," you called back with a shake of your head.

"You were finally going to ask him out, weren't you?" she asked, poking her head out. "About time. Sick of hiding in the office so I don't have to watch you two flirt."

You scoffed when you caught her smiling. "You love being in the office. And tomorrow is a new day. I'll ask him."

"You better wear something pretty for your hottie."

She's never going to let me live that nickname down.

You weren't sure what you were going to wear tomorrow, but you knew you couldn't wait to open the shop and see Bucky again.

Hope you liked this sweet introduction and can't wait to share more of this Bucky and the other boys. More from Hottie and Sugar with And Everything Nice. Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[softforloki]

Hey could you write something where reader is new to the team but before she joined she was a huge Loki fan girl. Most of her sleep wear is Loki themed and she’s got a ton of Loki plushies. It’s why she keeps the door locked. But one morning she forgets to close her door and Loki walks by and sees a collection of Loki stuffed animals and some clothing items. Instead of teasing her about it, he buys her a huge ass Loki teddy bear that’s almost to big to fit through the door but he manages. Just something cute and fluffy to brighten my awful mood.

ACK! YES! Omg this is such a cute idea thank you for sending in an idea.

For the record I am always accepting requests, but I may not write every idea I’m sent. So please if you have something you’d like to see send it in! 

Edit: OH MY OSIFSOIOSFDOJ GOD

I shit you not right as I was finished writing this, I highlighted the whole fic to put it in a word counter and i somehow managed to DELETE THE WHOLE FUCKING THING IFHOIFHWERIHGWOEIRFGOWI

If this seems a little fast paced and poorly written, then I’m really sorry but I had to rewrite literally this whole thing and I was really annoyed about it aosifhaoifhaois

Summery: Loki’s your favorite Avenger, and your personal decor can attest to that. Can you keep your passion under wraps when you move into the Avenger’s Tower?

Warnings: Very little swearing, just me loosing my mind

Masterlist

Word Count: 1,375

Caring in Secret

You’d always had a soft spot for villains.

You ate up every enemies-to-lovers novel, movie, or television show you could get your grubby hands on. You firmly believed that everyone had good in them. No matter what they did, everyone could be redeemed, and that they could put good into the world.

Maybe that made you naive, maybe it made you an idealist. No matter what people thought of you, you stayed true to your philosophy.

It was what had drawn you to Loki it the first place.

The man who had once brought ruin to your city was now working with the people who’d saved it. It was the redemption arch of your dreams.

The Avengers had some kind of PR team that seemed determined to bring Loki out of the shadows he lurked in by putting out more and more merchandise based around the God of Mischief. Loki themed graphic tees, pajamas, plushies, and even office supplies hit the market by storm, and you were at the front of the line to buy them.

You found yourself practically swimming in Loki merch, particularly stuffed toys. You had an army of about a dozen of them displayed on your bed and the shelves surrounding it. Something about being surrounded by the likeness of one of the most dangerous men in the world brought you so much comfort. Maybe it was the memory that people could change. That no matter what happened, they could get better.

For the longest time, you thought this was the closet you’d ever get to any of the Avengers. For better or for worse, this soon changed.

You didn’t officially work for SHIELD, so you didn’t expect to ever work with the heroes who kept the city- and the rest of the world- safe. You were a criminal psychologist working for the New York Police Department (an occupation that fit your idealist morals surprisingly well). You were good at your job, good enough that you’d been brought in by Director Fury to interrogate captured HYDRA agents and other captured bad guys.

Evidently, you were good enough at your job that you were promoted from everyday crooks to Avengers Level Threats.

Your knees went weak when you took your first steps into the incredible tower. You realized with a jolt that you were going to be living here from now on. You were living in a dream.

It wasn’t that day that you felt the electric shock of mortification about your admiration for the dark-haired demigod. When Loki (the real, non-stuffed Loki) shook your hand begrudgingly and introduced himself, you suddenly remembered your socks pattered with golden horned helmets tucked safely into your boots. 

You took care to lock the door to your bedroom whenever you left it. There wasn’t any shame in having an idol that you bought merchandise of, but it became a tad strange when you lived in the same building as that person.

You later discovered that the Avengers could get their own products for free, so a lot of them ironically wore clothes bearing their own or another team member’s resemblance. You still opted to keep your Loki treasure trove hidden away, and keep your graphic tees hidden under sweaters and zipped jackets. It was one thing when Thor wore hoodies with his brother’s name stamped across the back, you figured it would be a little less funny if you, a newbie, did the same.

Besides, you liked Loki, and you were pretty sure he liked you, too. You’d worked hard to crack the walls he’d set up and slip past his defenses. You didn’t want to jeopardize your friendship with him by revealing your boarder-line obsession. 

So you were diligent to always lock your door.

Until one day.

Two HYDRA agents who’d been causing the team problems for months were brought in, so you had to rush from your room to do your job. Halfway to the interrogation rooms, you realized with a chilling jolt that in the hurry, you’d left your door swinging, not just unlocked, but wide open.

“No one’s gonna go up there, for now.” You muttered, reasoning that it would just be a waste of time to run back up to shut the door. “Everyone’s busy down here.”

You ignored the growing pit in your stomach and hurried on.

. . .

Loki was going up to your room.

He hadn’t seen you in the chaos of bringing the agents in, so he decided to pop up to your room to make sure you knew what was happening. It had been easy to slip away undetected from the mass of people, reliving, even.

As Loki approached your room, he noticed your door hanging open. Odd, he thought, knowing this was out of character. You probably where down on the lower levels after all, if this was the case.

Despite knowing he should turn away, respect your privacy, or even close your door out of courtesy. That damnable curiosity that had plagued him for centuries pulled him closer, though. Just for a peek.

Bookshelf teeming with books, partially made bed, serval small plush versions of himself- wait, what?

Loki blinked a few times, sure he’d imagined them, but there they were. It was as if he’d seen the toys, his eyes had been opened to the rest of your room. He noticed the pajama pants patterned with his signature daggers draped over the foot of your bed. He saw you laptop, which had be decked out with Loki-themed stickers. He nearly stepped on a notebook emblazoned with his helmet lying on the floor.

Once the shock had worn off, he found himself somewhat flattered. It was charming, seeing this side of you. He knew he had some sort of fanbase (though for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why), he would’ve never imagined you were part of it.

His lips curled up in a found smile.

. . .

The knock startled you. You quickly slid your laptop under your covers, threw off your Loki-hoodie, stuffed it under your bed, and in record time answered the door.

You were well practiced in opening your bedroom door just enough so that you could see outside, but whoever was there couldn’t see in. That person, to your delight and somewhat horror; was Loki. A small smirk spread across his features when he saw you. 

“Hello, there.” He greeted smoothly. “I have something for you.”

“Something for me?” You echoed, raising a brow. “What the occasion?”

“No occasion.” He lilted. “Just something I thought you could add to your collection.”

“My- oh.”

Loki wrestled the comically large teddy bear through your doorway, placing it gently on the floor. You watched as it tipped over from the weight of its own head and fell onto your feet. The gesture would’ve been sweet, if not for the fact that the bear was costumed in Loki’s garb. You felt your heart sinking longer and loner as you continued to stare at the toy. “How did you know?” You asked, your voice a near whisper.

“I came up to get you for something a few days ago. You’d left your door opened.” Loki admitted, his smile dropping a fraction.

“Oh,” You said again, wishing you could curl in on yourself and die in a pit of embarrassment. You lowered your head.

 “You needn’t be ashamed, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Loki quickly said, gently closing his hands around your biceps. “It’s perfectly alright.”

“You’re not upset?”

“No, not at all. It’s quite endearing, actually.”

He released one of your arms, placing a finger under your chin to tilt your gaze up to meet his. He gave you a reassuring smile. You tentatively matched it. 

You wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing your face securely into his chest. He held you, letting you hide.

“Perhaps once the public sees how important you are,” He whispered in your ear, sending shivers up your spine. “and there is merchandise of you as well, I’ll collect all that I can and decorate my room the same way.”

You groaned, hands fisting in his clothes. “Please don’t.”

He chuckled, his fingers ghosting over your back. “Just try and stop me, darling.”

[onedayimgonnasnap]

So I’m basically gonna be changing the MC’s personality for this fic (Because of why not)

Also I haven’t finished the Tino route 💀

But I’ll be remaking some of the parts from his route to mix in with MCs new found personality. so if you’re confused that’s why

Anyways Enjoy-

———————————————————————————

Tino X Mean Reader

(The MC’s gender is up to the reader’s own perspective)

Warning: Inappropriate language

“What makes you so special?”

“Yeah you’re pretty average looking!”

“I can’t believe you even regret and avoid the princes special attention! You’re so weird.”

Is what a bunch of female students were yelling at you about. You started to grow annoyed due to the fact this wasn’t any of their business.

After seeing Fenn’s special affection towards you during class, they grew jealous and had you outside in the garden cornered basically all surrounding you. Just to insult you.

You stared at them before speaking; “Well maybe if you guys weren’t so busy stalking any of the princes from afar maybe, just maybe they’d ask you how you’re day was” You put your hand over your mouth to add a dramatic gasp.

“What are you trying to say yourself, we talk to the princes and you’re just a harlot who seduced them.” One of them spoke out starting a whole feud of insults and questions yelled out at you.

“You know… I was thinking about this a lot- But when was this any all of your businesses?” You raised your eye brow at them slowly grinning.

“Of course this is our business we trying to protect them from the likes of you!” Yelled a girl angrily.

You put your hand over your chin to pretend to think. “Hmm… you know you still could yell at me for the most stupidest shit, you could tell the short girl with the black hair and glasses how you slept with her brother.” You smirked.

You basically decided to get a rise out of all of them for you to run away while they were arguing. And you overheard the girl crying outside how guilty she was to her other friend.

They both preceded to yell at each other. While the other girls tried to get them to call down as they were going that, someone was heard walking through the bushes.

A tall man around your age, blonde hair and green eyes walked over out of a bush accidentally gaining all of the attention on him. He looked afraid, looked back at you and the cult members.

“I apologize, but has anyone seen Master Lynt?” He spoke out anxiously. The girls all looked at him with pity.

“No Im sorry none of us have.” One of the girls spoke while frowning.

Thinking about using this whole situation to my advantage; “Hey! I Can help you Look for him, if you’d like!”

His eyes soon started sparking like with happiness. Before any of the girls could deny he grabbed your hand and walked off happily thanking you.

.

.

.

As soon as you both were out of sight from them he let go of your hand.

“Maybe we should look in the lounge area where all the S-Ranks usually hang out!”

He suggested extremely grateful.

Unfortunately for him however, you didn’t wanna waste your time on something so idiotic.

“Listen that’s great and all you wanna look for the Prince however, you were just my escape plan. Have fun on your own.” You gave him a dark closed eyed smile at him.

This threw him off guard at what you said and he looked extremely sad. It reminded you of a kitten in a shelter beginning you to bring it home with you.

You were about to leave, but you quickly turned back as he looked down in sadness,

“You know what? Never mind I’ll help you look for him.” You groaned

His face soon brightened up with joy hearing this from you.

.

.

.

As you both were looking for Prince Lynt he began to introduce himself to you.

His name was Valentino Maes, he was Lynt’s valet, you could tell a lot about him from the information he told you about, his body language, his voice and tone when he got excited about anything.

He was being super moronic trusting someone like this especially with this type of information he was giving out.

You frowned at the thought.

He was pretty friendly and kind you could tell, but to much of a door mat where anyone could step on him.

And based on how anxious he gets you could already tell something or someone happened to make him this way.

He’d always apologized to you, in fear he offended you.

It was quite annoying.

“Oh my stars! I’m so sorry I didn’t think before I asked how was your day, I’m so sorry.” He bowed over and over again at you.

You smacked his head hard, from the top giving him a good hit.

He put his hands on his head almost in tears.

“Stop apologizing to me, you just asked a question. It wasn’t even personal, it’s just plain manners to ask. And if I hear you apologize for something stupid like that I’ll kick you in the stomach.”

You gave him an annoyed look, you felt bad for it unexpectedly but you were not going to baby him.

“I understand!” He said quickly composing himself quickly.

You both eventually became unexpected acquaintances to each other after talking to each other and basically getting to to know one and another before you found Lynt of course.

After you both found Lynt, you felt happy a little for their ruination, but quickly shook it off and went to go say good bye to one and another.

———————

The next day you woke up along with Robin to find a basket with bread in it, with a thank you note from Valentino.

You smiled and brought it inside for you and Robin to consume.

.

.

.

After lectures you accidentally bumped into the man in question who basically have you free breakfast.

“Oh my! I’m sorry MC.” He apologized again which made you frown.

“Valentino calm down it wasn’t a big deal stop making a fuss over it.”

You stated with your hands on your hips showing him your frown.

“You know you can call me just ‘Tino’” He gave you a small smile to distract himself from making you upset again he also showed you a preference.

“Alright Tino.”

“So did you enjoy the bread I brought to your dorm door step?”

He said clearly trying to change the subject embarrassed how you spoke his name.

“The bread was good, did you make it yourself?” You asked.

…

You learned that he loves to bake in general and learned different type of ways to make bread and prepare food because Lynt doesn’t like to eat that much

————

Tino’s presence started becoming more bearable on you slowly, but surely from the coincidences you’d see eachother.

You thought he looked like a happy golden retriever, especially from the joy he gets from seeing you consume the food he’s prepared.

But the joy is nothing compared to the joy he feels when Lynt eats his food.

You taught him to basically have a little more self respect as a human and rolled up a piece of paper to hit him with it if he didn’t.

He began to do better and better and it looked like he had lost a couple of bricks of weight off his back.

In return from the influence from him, you started to be alittle more sympathetic towards other. But still remained petty and prideful as ever.

.

.

.

One day as you were walking from you lectures, you over heard a conversation.

“Don’t you think they’re a stuck up know it all?”

“I mean It still doesn’t change the fact that they are really bad at magic.”

You wished you care less but however you heard a familiar name.

“Don’t you agree Tino?”

One of the girl said, you were about to get mad about what the hell you are assuming what was going on.

“No, I don’t agree with that at all!”

The voice of Tino could be heard.

“MC is kinder than you think! They are an extremely respectable person.” He stood up for you.

Soon your face grew red and your heart started beating rapidly at the embarrassment as you got up and left.

—-

Ever since that fateful day, you began to see Tino, in a different light. Did you always see him that way? You don’t really know when exactly.

Sherry the self proclaimed match maker and it caught her attention. She’d make comments from time to time about you and Tino. You both would be awkwardly blushing and spitting around random things to change the subjects.

Tino couldn’t help but feel this happiness towards you, he wished to be near you more and more. His heart would race at the thought of you both holding hands.

He respects you a lot, your sense of humor, your favorite dishes, your odd language. All of it would make Tino happy in general.

He slowly started to love himself more and it was all because of you teaching him that having boundaries is ok, and he shouldn’t try to please everyone around him.

.

.

.

One day Tino invited you personally to come to the library with him go hang out, as you arrive there you could tell he was feeling super anxious once again.

“Is something wrong, are you alright?”

You asked raising your eyebrow.

Tino immediately flinched and jumped. Looking both at you and as his shoes awkwardly.

“You know I can leave if you’d like?”

You asked awkwardly getting up from your seat and walking away, immediately before you can go Tino grabs your hand gently trying not to hurt you.

“Please don’t go yet, I wanted to tell you something.”

He pleaded looking at you, with tears in his eyes.

“Ok then, when you’re ready.” You sat back down looking at him expectedly

Tino began to relax under your gaze, as he took a seat along side with you.

He all of the sudden had a serious look in his face.

“Listen, I wanted to thank you for helping look for Master Lynt that day. Even when you didn’t want to you complied to help someone who I would assume to be pathetic in your eyes.-“

“Tino. You shouldn’t be little yourself especially assuming what I think of you not knowing for sure, and if I thought that way then who cares-“

He cut you off and held both of your hands refusing to break eye contact.

“But I care! I care about what you think of me, you amaze me with everything. I want to be by your’s and master Lynt’s side forever!

I enjoy the days Im able to see you laugh, to see your concern for me! Even when you tell me stop belittling myself and think more of myself, im happy that you care so much about me!”

Your heart started pounding at how he was describing you gave him an unknown look.

He soon thought it was rejection to which he backed down.

“Im sorry, I didn’t mean to come off so strongly.”

He apologized looking down.

You soon grabbed both of his hands and asked the big question.

“Will you be my Paramour?”

You asked while blushing.

He quickly shook his head up and down to afraid that anything he will say will leave a negative impact.

“MC, could I… kiss you?”

He asked while blushing extremely hard, trying his best to maintain eye contact with you.

You shook your head up and down mimicking him from earlier. He then proceeded to lean down slowly to give you a peck on the lips.

[neptuneofthesky]

Feral Family

Dream x reader

Next part

fluff?? (tiny bit of angst; children getting lost and stuff)

Feral boys except Dream are children

Single mother fic

"POPPING OFF!"

"FERAL BOYS 5/5!!"

----

"What the honk are we even doing-"

"YOU'RE MOM!"

"We have the same mom, dumb butt."

"Guys, please..."

You sighed.

It's fine.

They are just kids.

"MOOMMMM!!!"

All of them shouted at once.

You sighed again and smiled, "Yes sweeties?"

They all started shouting at once.

Your smile didn't drop, "Stop."

Everybody shut their mouths as they saw your smile.

You tilted your head, "Now, George, you are the oldest, tell me what's the problem?"

"We all need to pee!" George exclaimed.

You raised a brow, "That's why you all are being so cranky."

Karl started bouncing a little, "Mom, I reaaaaaally have to pee!!"

You sighed as you smiled, "I have to pee too, let's go."

Alex stopped you as he shook his head, "No, no we are not going to the ladies toilet. It's embarrassing and not right."

You raised a brow, "Are you ready to go to the men's toilet by yourself? All alone?"

His eyes widened, "Uh... uhmm," He pulled Sapnap and Karl closer to him, "We'll go together!"

You playfully rolled your eyes as you turn to George, "You can handle them?"

He nodded as he turned around to face them, "Let's go guys, we can do this!"

They ran to the men's washroom as you yourself went to the ladies and did your business as quickly as you could and came back outside as you waited for them.

5 minutes.

10 minutes.

Why were they taking this much time?

You were going to go inside the washroom but an old man coming out of the door gave you a weird look.

Your cheeks got a bit red from embarrassment as you look around and stop a guy with a lime hoodie, "Excuse me, sir? Can you please check on the kids that are inside? 4 of them."

He looked at you and gave you a polite smile and nodded, "Sure."

Not even half a minute later he came out of the toilet as he looked alarmed, "Okay, don't panic, but your kids aren't inside."

Your eyes widened as panic rushed into your body, "No, no, no, no, shit, shit, shit."

You aggressively grabbed his shoulders, "Please help me look for them."

His eyes widened as he nodded, "Yes, sure, but please let me go."

You remove your hands as you pulled out your phone and showed him a photo of them, "Sorry for that. This is George, Alex, Sapnap, and Karl with a K."

He nodded as he thought for a second, "Should we go to Hamley's first? They can be there, or do they like gaming and stuff?"

You paused as you realized something and sighed, "Is there a drug store, or something like that on this floor?"

He tilted his head in confusion, "There must be-and she is running."

He followed you as you ran through the mall, trying to find the drug store.

I am such a bad mother.

I am so irresponsible.

They will hate me.

Trying to shake off the negative thoughts, you tried to find them as tears pooled in your eyes, blurring your vision.

"Excuse me, sir, that is very offending, my mom is going to kick your butt."

You wiped your eyes as the hoodie man tapped your shoulder, "Um, is that Alex?"

You turned to the direction he was pointing as your eyes widened, "Oh my god, Boys?"

Karl turned around as his eyes widened and he ran into your arms, "MOM!"

Tears of relief rushed down your cheek as he wiped them off with a pout on his face, "Don't cry, mom. I don't like it when you cry."

You let out a small sob as you looked at Sapnap who also had a pout on his face, "You guys scared me. Why did you wander away?"

Sapnap folded his hands, "Alex wanted the happy powder!"

The hoodie man got confused, "Happy powder? Wait- do you mean drugs?!"

You sighed as you looked at Alex who was being dragged by George, "Alex, what did we say about happy powder?"

Alex pouted as he folded his hands, "No happy powder tantrum anymore."

You patted his head as you pulled him in a hug, "You scared mommy. Don't ever do that again."

George huffed, "I tried to stop him, mum! But he then said he'd pee on me!"

You raised a brow as Alex looked away, "That is not very nice, Alex. And I know you didn't mean it, so, please stop threatening your brother."

Alex rolled his eyes, "Fine, but can we get some burgers?"

You smiled as you turned to the hoodie man, "First, I want to thank the person who helped me find you guys. How about I treat you burgers, wait- I just realized I didn't even introduce myself, I'm Y/n."

He smiled as he shook your hand, "I'm Clay, and no problem, although, I am a bit hungry."

George's eyes widened as he pulled your finger, "Mum, That's, that's Dream! He is wearing the Dream hoodie and he has the same name and the same voice! That's Dream!"

Your eyes widened as you looked at Clay, who was smiling sheepishly, "Please keep it down, I don't really wanna catch attention."

Alex hit George's head, "Keep it down, you idiot."

You gave him a look as he muttered an apology.

Sapnap grabbed his hand as his eyes were sparkling and whispered loudly, "We love your videos! Can we take a photo with you?"

Karl also nodded in excitement as he was too flabbergasted to say anything.

Clay smiled as he patted his head, "Yeah sure."

You tilted your head, "But, you haven't even revealed your face yet, are you sure? You can sign-"

He shook his head as he grinned, "No, it's alright. Just don't post it online or something. And if you do, just sensor my face and hair."

You nodded your head as you pulled out your phone, "You got it, boys?"

You gestured them to stand with him as you looked around for onlookers, and when you made sure there were none serious, you smiled, "Say Dream! But not too loudly."

-----

"So, you already know my job, what's yours?"

You smiled, "I am a producer. And a songwriter."

Alex excitedly nodded as he was munching on his burger, "Yeah, she even writes songs for kpop!"

You chuckled as you wipe his mouth with a tissue, "Yep, kpop, pop, hip hop, you name it."

"Yeah, did you know she also wrote baby shark?" Sapnap pipes up.

Clay raised a brow as you subtly shook your head, "Yep, and I was also the one who produced pigstep."

George giggled as his eyes brightened, "Yeah, with Daniel. He is such a nice person."

[Daniel Rosenfeld is the producer for all the Minecraft tracks, his stage name is C418]

You laughed and patted his head as Clay's eyes widened, "What?"

"It's nothing," You playfully shushed at your boys as they giggled.

Clay chuckled as he shook his head, "So, you guys play Minecraft right? Would you like to play with me?"

Everybody's eyes widened as they started to shout excitedly.

You winced, "Boys, calm down."

They completely ignored you as Clay looked very surprised.

You sighed as you pulled out a packet of skittles and clicked your fingers, immediately grabbing their attention as they all turned their heads to you in sync, "Anyone wants skittles? Go fetch."

You threw the skittles far away as they ran to get it.

You shrugged as Clay raised a brow, "It's literally the fastest way to calm them down because if they don't calm down as soon as possible, they go feral."

You pulled out another three packets as you whistled to catch their attention.

They return back to their seats, each of them with their packets.

You look at your watch as your eyes widened, "Karl, it's time for Steven Universe."

Karl's eyes widened, "Oh no we have to GO!"

You all got up as Clay stood up too, "Wait if you don't mind, can I have your number?"

Your eyes widened as you took his phone, "Yeah, sure, just, text me later. Bye and thank you once again!"

The kids shouted 'bye' in chorus as they all ran away, Clay smiled as he looked at your number, and saved it as, 'Y/n<3'.

[Also, there is going to be a mini part 2 ;)]

[avnkin]

Shake On It [ d. malfoy ]

Author’s Note: I originally planned on posting this as just one long fic buuut instead i’m going to do a mini series, ya know torture you guys just just a lil bit (gif is not mine) also I got all the information about the potions and the ingredients from harry potter wiki and of course I do not own harry potter or the storyline/characters.

Word Count: 8k

Summary: There’s little to nothing Draco values more than his reputation so when he sees it slipping, he’ll do anything in his power to catch it.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, foul language, some bullying and asshole!draco.

This is an AU so all the information doesn’t exactly line up with the hp storyline for example it takes place in sixth year but there’s no Voldemort so Dumbledore doesn’t die etc.

You’d never been much for the ‘social scene’ you just didn’t find enjoyment in the same things your classmates did, so you never really had a big friend group, your only acquaintance having been Irma Prince… The librarian.

That was until your second year when Hermione Granger came into your life like a ray of sunshine brightening up the dark loneliness that had consumed you your first year.

She introduced you to Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, although you were never as close with them as you were with Hermione you still couldn’t be more grateful for your newfound friend group, especially since you now didn’t have to endure Draco’s and his fellow Slytherin classmates torment alone.

You were and had always been an easy target for Draco and his entourage since you never really stood up for yourself, instead choosing to ignore how he continuously called you ‘a blood traitor’ for hanging out with ‘the likes of Hermione’ which you never understood, how was someone different from him just because they didn’t have magical parents?

It was a well-known fact that Draco’s father Lucius Malfoy was the cause of his attitude towards muggle-borns, you truly believed that man didn’t have a kind bone in his body.

You remembered once when you’d arrived at platform 9¾ after your third year Draco went to greet his parents and whilst Narcissa (his mother) gave him a big welcoming hug, embracing her son after not having seen him for many months Lucius simply stared down at him with a glare that could only be described as disgust and disappointment before turning and walking away without as much as a greeting to the platinum blond.

Still, that didn’t excuse Draco’s foul behaviour, he was old enough now to have his own opinions and morals and he didn’t seem to be planning on changing them anytime soon.

You were now in your sixth year and unsurprisingly nothing had changed, Draco was still the same arse he’d always been, but as the years went on it was getting progressively easier to ignore him since you’d gotten so used to it.

It almost felt like it had become a part of your daily routine for him to yell something degrading in the hallways, mostly directed at you or Hermione or whatever Gryffindor he felt like bullying that day.

Intently focusing on the potions book that laid opened before you, you carefully followed the detailed instructions, not wanting to get a single thing wrong since you needed at least an outstanding in this class to keep up your average.

The last part was to add: ‘One drop of Unicorn blood’

You grabbed the flask that contained the silver liquid and as steadily as possible you leaned the bottle over your cauldron, letting a small drop slip past the edge and into the black water, but as you began leaning back Pansy Parkinson ‘accidentally’ bumped into you causing the entirety of the bottle to spill into your potion.

You glared up at her as you watched the black liquid turn sickly green instead of sparkly blue as it should. She shrugged her shoulders innocently, before walking back to the station she shared with Draco who greeted her with an amused smirk before turning back to his work.

“Try not to think too much about it” Hermione’s comforting voice sounded from beside you. “I’m so sick of those two” you argued pouring the remaining containments of the cauldron into a sink, now having to start the entire potion all over again.

“I know, I am too” Hermione frowned glaring at the two Slytherins who didn’t even bother to look over at her.

“Miss Y/L/N weren’t you nearly finished a couple of minutes ago?” Professor Slughorn’s voice could be heard from behind you as he looked over your shoulder, an unimpressed look on his face.

“Uh- yes sir it’s just I accidentally put too much Unicorns blood and had to start over again” you lied looking into the now-empty cauldron before you, glaring at Pansy once you heard her quiet laughter from the other side of the classroom.

“Well alright, but I’d hurry if I were you, I’m afraid you’re running a bit short on time” he smiled before moving on to the students sat in front of you.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Hermione frowned once Slughorn was out of earshot, you gave her a knowing look having had this conversation with her on more than one occasion.

Tattling on them wouldn’t change anything it would simply make their torments increase and you didn’t need that, especially with the N.E.W.T.S coming up you didn’t want anything distracting your studies.

Despite having been interrupted by Pansy you managed to be the only one who brewed the potion right and the displeased scowl placed on Pansy’s face as she watched you get praised by the teacher and the rest of the class was nothing but amusing.

Once you were finally dismissed, you were walking alongside Hermione down the long corridors leading to the Great Hall when someone again bumped into you causing all the books you’d been clutching between your arms to go flying towards the ground and you along with them.

“What a klutz” you heard the familiar squeaky voice of Pansy Parkinson, you hurriedly got back up onto your feet whilst Hermione picked up the remaining books that had sprawled all across the stone floor.

“You did that on purpose” you growled charging at Pansy who cowered away from you as you neared her but once she noticed Draco was watching she stopped dead in her tracks, a side smirk resting on her lips before she tilted her head to the side.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about” she innocently smiled before walking around you and back to Draco who held an emotionless expression on his face as he walked with her down the hall.

“Bitch” you mumbled underneath your breath just before Hermione came running up to you. “Are you okay?” she faintly smiled before handing you your things.

“Fine” you deadpanned before the two of you began walking back down the hallway again.

Once you’d made it into the Great Hall you immediately spotted Harry and Ron a smile on your face as you took a seat next to Harry, and Hermione the one next to Ron the previous events being long forgotten as you distracted yourself with the comforting company of your friends.  

“Since when did Y/L/N and Potter become so close?” Draco’s face held a scowl as he watched the two of you interact from afar, he truly didn’t know why it bothered him, but for some reason it did.

“Why do you care?” Pansy replied as she began shifting in her seat to move closer to Draco who almost instinctively moved away causing a bright red tint to appear on her cheeks as she hurriedly moved back to her original seat.

“I don’t” he simply replied tearing his eyes away from you and Harry as he began playing with his food.

“You know what I think” Blaise raised an eyebrow as he daringly stared Draco down, “I think Malfoy’s gone soft” Blaise finished, the words earning loud snickers from the students sat next to them.

Draco’s stomach churned in anger at the words of his best friend throwing the boy a nasty glare before turning back to his food, but Blaise didn’t intend to stop there.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you never pick on her anymore and you always get really defensive whenever- “

“Shut the hell up Blaise” Draco commanded and even though Blaise knew he was skating on thin ice, Draco’s fury only seemed to egg him on further as his eyes wandered towards the Gryffindor table to look at you.

"You know what Malfoy since you claim you have no feelings for her at all I dare you to break her heart"

"What?" Draco questioned genuinely confused at his friends' statement. "Make her fall in love with you and then dump her" Draco looked over at Pansy who seemed almost giddy at the suggestion, of course she'd be happy about this.

Draco thought about it for a moment, he knew that if he didn't do this he'd never hear the end of it, and keeping up his 'I don't care about anyone but myself' attitude had served him well over the years so as he weighed out the pros and the cons it seemed the cons were outnumbered and without a second thought he reached his hand out to Blaise.

"You've got yourself a deal" Draco spoke as they shook hands "and when I win, you'll be my personal servant for the rest of the year" Draco finished as he pulled his hand back causing Blaise's cocky facial expression to quickly drop.

"Fine but when I win, you have to do my homework for Defence Against the Dark Arts till we graduate" Draco rolled his eyes but nodded as he let his hand fall back into his lap.

He stared at you watching as you laughed at something Harry said and couldn't help but feel a tinge of guilt knowing what he was about to do, but he shook the feeling away engaging back in the conversation of his friends, pushing all thoughts of you into the back of his mind.

The following week Draco still had yet to make his move on you. He was brainstorming ideas as he made his way to Potions, none of them good enough to follow through with but when he’d finally made his way into the classroom, he went to walk over to Blaise like he usually would but instead he found himself staring at the empty seat next to you.

He looked over at Blaise who was already quizzically staring at him. Draco mouthed a ‘watch this’ in return before he made his way towards you, grabbing a hold of the chair next to yours he stared down at you before asking.

"Is this seat taken?"

You looked up from your book turning to greet who you thought would have been Harry or Ron but instead, you were met with a pair of grey eyes you were not expecting to see, your mouth slightly parting as you stared wide-eyed at him.

"Yes actually-" you began but he had already sat down before you'd been able to reply, placing his backpack on the floor below him.

You raised an eyebrow at the blond, to which he replied by smiling over at you acting as if him sitting there was the most normal thing in the world.

"Do you mind?" you finally managed to choke out as he turned to face you.

"No, not at all" your eyes went wide at his words as you frantically began looking around the classroom for Hermione.

Once you made eye contact with her, you gave her a pleading look silently begging for her to help you, but she only took a hesitant seat next to Neville shrugging her shoulders indicating that there wasn't much she could do.

You grabbed the handle of your backpack beginning to stand up when you felt a hand wrap around your wrist preventing you from moving any further.

"Seems like all the other seats are taken Y/L/N" you frowned at his words turning your head to look around the classroom and sure enough there wasn't a single seat available.

You glared at him before ripping your hand out of his grasp and reluctantly sitting back down.

"Good morning" Slughorn's voice could be heard as he made his way towards the front of the classroom.

"Today we'll be working in pairs so whoever you're sitting next to is your partner for this assignment" your eyes widened in horror at his words as you glanced over at the Slytherin clad boy next to you.

"You're going to be writing an essay on the properties of Moonstone and its uses in Potion making" why did he have to announce this assignment today of all days?

You again looked over at Draco who seemed to be smiling, why was he happy about this? You placed your head in your hands as your mind began to wander, this was probably some stupid plan he and his friends had made to get you to fail the class.

"Professor" you eagerly raised your hand "is it too late to change partners?" you asked, silently begging for him to say no so you could work with Hermione or anyone else for that matter.

"Well I'm afraid everyone else seems to be taken Miss Y/L/N, I'm sure you and Mister Malfoy will be just fine together" you felt a flash off anger as you turned to look at the boy sat next to you.

"I swear if this is your idea of some sort of sick joke Malfoy, I'll hex you into oblivion" you threatened not daring to break eye contact with him, smirking once you noticed his taken aback expression.

"Y/L/N calm down, It's not a joke? You're the best at Potions in our year so I wanted to see if you'd be willing to work together but doesn't look like you have much of a choice now" he shrugged his shoulders; something was definitely off about this.

"So, you couldn't just ask me before we got to class?" his eyes seemed to widen a bit as he thought of a response but you continued before he had the chance to say anything "because I would have said no" and with that, you turned away from him pulling a piece of parchment out of your backpack along with your quill so you could start planning the next few weeks.

As it was nearing the end of the class you and Draco hadn't spoken a word to each other since you'd shut down all his attempts of starting a conversation, not having been interested in anything he had to say.

When class was over you handed Draco the piece of parchment that had a very detailed description of what his part in the project would be, so you'd be able to spend as little time together as possible, although he seemed to be quite displeased at this beginning to protest that you should work together so you'd get a better grade.

"I'm not spending any more time with you than I have to Malfoy so if you'll excuse me" you stood up pushing him out of the way before making your way to Neville's station where Hermione stood shoving her books into her bag.

Once you finally reached her you grabbed her by the arm, quickly pulling her after you out of the classroom. Ignoring her protests until you finally reached an empty corridor, void of any students and teachers.

"Please tell me you saw all that" you pleaded as you let go of her arm.

“You mean Malfoy?” Hermione replied, “yes Malfoy! He’s acting like we’re all of a sudden, the best of friends? Like he didn’t just call me a ‘blood traitor’ last week” you exasperated a scowl on your face.

“I think that was Zabini” Hermione acknowledged making you furrow your brows your mind wandering back to the encounter and sure enough she was right, Zabini had been the one to hurl the insult.

“What does it matter who said it, he’s one of them!” you protested, angrily turning to look at Hermione once you heard her stifled laughter from beside you.

“This isn’t funny! I’m stuck with him for the next- who knows how many weeks on this stupid project” you complained letting your head fall back as you let out a groan.

“Its okay Y/N don’t worry… I reckon he just fancies you” Hermione teased wiggling her eyebrows as she lightly nudged you in the shoulder.

“Have you gone mad?” you practically gasped although you couldn’t help the unfamiliar heat that began rushing to your cheeks at her words.

“Merlin Y/N you’re blushing! You like him?” you frantically covered her mouth as you noticed students beginning to fill the previously empty hallways.

“Would you hush! And no! I do not like Draco Malfoy, I could never like someone like him” you hissed your anger only growing once you noticed the same smile still linger on her lips.

“Whatever you say” Hermione jokingly sing sang, and in response you lightly hit her across the head with a piece of parchment you’d been holding unfortunately not getting the results you wanted since it only seemed to be egging her laughter on more.

“Alright calm down you lunatic I’m only joking” Hermione frowned rubbing the spot on her head you’d begun repeatedly hitting her, “you better be” you hummed, again pulling her after you as you two began walking down the hallways blending into the crowd of students.

“You know I can walk by myself” Hermione frowned once you’d found yourself standing out in the courtyard, your eyes searching for your two other friends since when you had Potions they had a free period which they spent most of their time here.

You finally spotted them sitting on a bench below a large brown oak tree, Seamus and Dean stood in front of them.

It was now Hermione’s turn to pull you away and in mere seconds you were standing next to the four Gryffindor clad boys who all turned their heads towards the two of you.

“Hello” you smiled before looking over at Harry who had already begun scooting over gesturing for you to come and sit down next to him, to which you happily obliged.

They all greeted you and Hermione before continuing their conversation about the upcoming Quidditch game they had against Slytherin next week.

“Yeah well Malfoy hasn’t caught the snitch when competing against Harry once, so I think we’re going to be okay” Ron assured Seamus who didn’t seem to be all that convinced but still began to make his way back into school Dean following behind him shortly after.

“Speaking of Malfoy” Hermione knowingly smirked at you before turning towards the two boys.

“Hermione no-“ you began but it was already too late, “seems he as a little crush” and there it was, you inwardly face palmed feeling the now-familiar heat in your face as you turned away from the confused glances of your two friends.

“Malfoy fancies Y/N?” Ron seemed to be more disgusted rather than confused as he scrunched up his nose.

“Hermione first of all I’m going to kill you! And second of all, he doesn’t like me! He just wanted to be partners on some stupid assignment in Potions” you assured them.

“And you said yes?” Harry perplexed.

“No! Of course not, he- he didn’t give me much of a choice” you rambled scratching the back of your head before glaring over at Hermione.

“What? He forced you to work with him?” Harry again furrowed his brows, “No- or well he sat next to me in class and I couldn’t move anywhere else since all of the other seats were taken and when Professor Slughorn arrived he immediately announced that we’d be working on our essays with whoever sat next to us” you began rambling, causing your three friends to share amused glances, unbeknownst to you.

Harry seemed to understand slowly nodding before claiming him and Ron had quidditch practice pulling the ginger boy along with him out of the courtyard, leaving just you and Hermione.

After a few minutes of silence, you turned to face her, “I think I’m going to go to the library, care to join me?” Hermione shook her head at your words pointing at the book she had just opened already beginning to make herself comfortable on the little bench you’d been sitting on.

You rolled your eyes “suit yourself” you breathed out offering her a small wave as you stood up, which she returned before you began walking back into the crowded hallways.

As you neared the library you began to hear footsteps behind you, smirking since you thought Hermione had changed her mind about joining you.

You turned around expecting to see your best friend but instead, you were met with Draco who now stood still a few feet away from you.

“Are you following me?” you crossed your arms raising an eyebrow at the boy.

He shook his head now walking towards you “just wanted to see if you’d like some company and since you’re heading towards the library we can work on our essay”

“So, you were following me” you accused but before he could answer you continued, “I thought I already told you I’m not spending any more time with you than I have too so if you’ll excuse me” you turned your back to him continuing your way to the library.

“Your loss Y/L/N” you heard him teasingly call after you making a smile appear on your lips which you tried to the best of your ability to contain.

-

Your next Potions class was one you’d been dreading, knowing that the people who were paired together on the essay had also been assigned to sit next to each other, very much to your dismay.

Professor Slughorn had asked all of you to join him at the front of the classroom so he could show you a couple of the potions you’d be brewing for the next couple of weeks and of course the one you’d be working on today.

“And this one right here is-” Slughorn was abruptly cut off by the sound of the classroom door swinging open. You quizzically looked past Slughorn’s shoulder and furrowed your brows at the two boys who had entered.

“Harry?” you asked a bit louder than you intended to causing the attention of the class to turn to Harry and Ron rather than Professor Slughorn.

“Ah! Harry my boy I was beginning to worry, and you’ve brought someone with you I see, what’s your name then?” Slughorn asked, brightly smiling at the two Gryffindors.

“Ron Weasley sir, but I’m dead awful at potions- a menace actually so I’m probably just gonna-“  Ron’s voice wavered as he began to turn around but Harry quickly put his arm out in front of him pushing him back into the classroom.

“Oh, don’t be silly, we’ll sort you out! There are some books in the cupboard over there if you need them” Slughorn pointed towards the end of the classroom where Ron and Harry quickly began fighting over the last book in there.

You and Hermione both gave each other confused glances before your attention was back on the Professor stood in front of you.

“As I was saying I’ve prepared some concoctions this morning. Any ideas what these may be?” you quickly raised your hand Hermione copying your actions as Slughorn’s eyes wandered between the two of you before he eventually pointed at you.

“Yes, miss Y/L/N” Slughorn stepped out of the way as you took a step forward towards the two pots that rested on the table.

“This one is Veritaserum a truth-telling serum and that one over there is Amortentia the most powerful love potion in the world. It’s rumoured to smell differently to each person according to what attracts them” you smiled proudly at yourself before taking a step back towards the other students.

You heard Pansy scoff causing you to quickly turn around to glare at her and just as you did you saw Draco elbow her in the side whispering something in her ear before shaking his head at her actions.

You quickly looked away before Draco’s eyes could catch yours since you felt the annoying feeling of warmth rush up into your cheeks and a smile replace the frown you’d indented to direct at Pansy.

“Very good Miss Y/L/N” Slughorn smiled before beginning to tell the students that whoever managed to brew an acceptable Draught of Living Death would be walking out of the classroom with one vile of Liquid Luck.

You quickly walked over to your station Draco following in suit behind you as you both turned to page 10 on your ‘advanced potion making’ books.

Your eyes wandered over the page before you spotted the instructions.

1. Cut up one Sopophorus bean.

You frowned down at the text as you glanced between it and the bean, it didn’t look like it was meant to be cut, and your suspicions were right as you began noticing your fellow classmates struggle around you.

Your eyes widened as Draco’s bean came hurling at your face at an ungodly speed, you practically had to throw yourself to the floor so it wouldn’t hit you in the face.

“Bloody hell Y/N are you okay!?” Draco panicked as he rushed to your side offering his hand to help you up which you ignored to distracted by the fact he’d called you by your first name.

You quickly got up onto your feet still ignoring his outstretched hand. You’d never in all your years at Hogwarts heard him call anyone by their first name, let alone you, a Gryffindor he’d hated since the first year.

“What did you just call me?” you asked although it came out a bit harsher then you intended it too. You didn’t mind that he was using your first name you just found it incredibly odd especially for someone like him.

“What, Y/L/N? that’s your name isn’t it” he was acting clueless as he walked back around the table to attend to his potion.

“No, you said Y/N” you raised an eyebrow as you watched him grab another bean now simply resorting to ignoring you, whatever you thought, brewing this potion was more important than what name Draco decided to call you.

As you continued to observe the students around you, you noticed Harry grab a silver knife and slowly press it onto the bean. You mirrored his actions and to your delight, it worked.

“How did you do that?” Draco could be heard from opposite you as he furiously looked between the instructions in his book and the crushed bean in your hand.

“Crush it don’t cut it” you shrugged, your finger traveling further down the page and stopping at the second step.

2. Pour in 250 fl.oz. of Standard potioning water and add 5 oz. of African Sea Salt to the beaker. Set the beaker aside after all the water has been added. Be very careful not to shake or move the beaker now.

The rest of the lesson had gone by in a flash and even though you felt like you’d be the one rewarded with the Liquid Luck, it ended up being Harry and you couldn’t help but wonder how the hell he managed to brew something better than you.

You remembered Harry continuously failing all his Potions classes never getting more than a poor or an acceptable on any of his assignments or tests.

After class you immediately cornered him, and it didn’t take long for him to confess to the book he’d found. Property of the half-blood prince it read and as you flipped through the many pages it had all the ‘correct’ recipes to every single potion you’d be brewing throughout the term.

“I knew it! You’ve always been dreadful at potions” you finally felt at ease knowing that Harry had only won you by cheating, shaking your head as you placed the book back into his arms.

“Hey! I am not ‘dreadful’ at potions” he imitated you his hands making air quotes at the word dreadful, a laugh slipping past your lips as you remembered a certain incident from when you were younger.

“Oh really? Don’t you remember third year when Snape told us to make a shrinking solution and you poured it all over Hermione-“ you began but Harry quickly cut you off.

“Alright! Alright! You’ve made your point now shove off I don’t feel like listening to this story right now” you threw your head back in laughter as you thought back to a tiny Hermione who hadn’t spoken to Harry a whole week after the incident.

“Doesn’t seem like you’re doing a great job with Y/L/N, I reckon Potter’s in there more than you” Blaise sounded amused as he came up behind Draco who was watching yours and Harry’s exchange from afar.

“Don’t worry Blaise, I’m only getting started”

Later in the day you, Harry, Ron and Hermione had all decided to take a little trip down to Hogsmeade for a much needed break from your studies.

“No sit beside me” Harry insisted as the four of you made your way into the Three Broomsticks, you gave him a confused glance but nevertheless dragged the chair out from underneath the table and sat down next to him.

You went to ask why but quickly managed to put two and two together once you noticed professor Slughorn sat at the bar, a beer in his hand as he talked with one of the other professors.

“What’s your deal with Slughorn?” you questioned as Harry began waving the professor over. “I need to get into the slug club” you furrowed your brows but before you could question it any further Slughorn had arrived at your table.

“Ah! Mister Potter lovely to see you, you as well Miss Y/L/N” Slughorn smiled completely disregarding Hermione and Ron who sat opposite you.

“Likewise, Professor” you smiled as he and Harry began talking about something you couldn’t be less interested in, instead your eyes began to wander around the small tavern until they finally landed on Draco who was already staring intently at you.

“You’d be welcomed to Y/L/N” your gaze diverted from the platinum blond towards Slughorn who was smiling brightly down at you. “I’d love too!” you agreed having faintly heard him mention a christmas dinner.

“Wonderful! Look for my owl” you couldn’t help but let out a laugh at Hermione’s face who seemed to be more than distraught that she hadn’t received an invitation of her own.

“Oh, how silly of me Granger, I hope I’ll also be seeing you there” Hermione’s face lit up at his words as she repeatedly nodded, Slughorn awkwardly looking over at Ron before speaking, “good to see you Wallenby”.

You were finally able to let out the laugh you’d been holding in as Slughorn exited the tavern. “Oh, shut up Y/N” Ron frowned crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back into his chair.

When your laughter had finally died down you offered to go and order your drinks since the waiter had yet to make an appearance at your table.

“Four butter beers please” you smiled at the worker as you leaned onto the bar going to turn around but instead you were met with a black suit your eyes wandering upwards to see Draco towering over you.

You cleared your throat causing him to take a step back, “anything I can help you with?” you questioned as Draco stood motionless in front of you.

“Yes, would you like to join me?” Draco asked gesturing to an empty table at the far end of the tavern. You looked over to where he was pointing causing you to quickly spot his friends who were all sat at another table, their eyes set on you.

“Uhm- I think they’d loved to join you” you pointed towards them causing Draco to quickly snap his head in their direction, making them all quickly turn to each other acting as nonchalant as they could.

“But I’d much rather spend time with you” you felt a weird tingly feeling at his words but nonetheless you didn’t dare act on it your eyes going to your friend’s who were all staring quizzically at you.

“Sorry I- Uhm I can’t I came here with them” you gestured towards your table Draco’s eyes following in the direction you pointed before they were back on you.

“Well alright, but you owe me a date then” he winked before turning around and going back to join his Slytherin friends.

Your mouth hung open as you watched him walk away, did he just say date?

You power walked back towards your friends hastily taking a seat next to Harry who already had his eyes glued on you.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Ron asked as soon as you’d fully sat down.

“Oh- Uhm, he just wanted to ask me about our assignment” they all looked skeptical at your reply but didn’t question it any further another topic quickly consuming your table.

“Do any of you have a date to the Jingle Ball?” Hermione’s question rang throughout the table, causing both boys shook their heads and you along with them, in all honesty, you didn’t expect to get asked so you’d probably just end up going with Harry like last year.

“Guess we know who Ginny’s going with” you giggled gesturing towards her and Dean who were currently taking a seat at a table not so far from yours, their fingers wrapped around each other’s.

“I’d like to leave” Ron shifted in his seat uncomfortably as he stared at his sister and who he had once considered a close friend. “Honestly Ron they’re only holding hands” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“And snogging” you added on as Ginny connected her lips with Dean’s. “Yep that’s it we’re leaving” Ron stood up grabbing the coat that hung on the chair beside him.

“Oh come on we haven’t even gotten our orders yet!” you protested as all your friends began to stand up, maybe you should have joined Draco before.

“Fine” you huffed once you noticed they had no intention of staying any longer. “Why don’t you just ask Malfoy to come join you, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind” Ron teased causing you to quickly hit him in the arm.

“Shut up Ron!”

Once you’d all made it back to Hogwarts you and Hermione separated from Ron and Harry since they claimed to have yet another quidditch practice although you figured it was code for going to scout possible dates for the Jingle Ball.

“So, what did Draco really want earlier?” Hermione gave you a knowing look as she lightly bumped you in the shoulder.

“It was so weird he-he said that I owe him a date” your voice was hesitant as you turned your head to look at Hermione who didn’t seem at all surprised.

“Well, now you know who you can go to the Jingle Ball with” she stated matter of factly causing your eyes to widen as you gaped at her.

“Hermione, I love you but have you gone mad? Me and Draco? I don’t think so” you denied but there was still the lingering feeling of hope deep down in your stomach that you tried with all your might to suppress.

“Well he obviously has a thing for you, and I mean he’s not too bad to look at”

“Shove off”

-

You had been actively avoiding Draco ever since the Hogsmeade trip, something about the entire ordeal just felt weird to you, why was he all of a sudden so bold about his apparent feelings towards you when a couple of weeks ago he wouldn’t even look your way.

But it seemed your luck had run out since he now stood in front of you, hand outstretched as he leaned it against the stone wall preventing you from continuing your way to your Transfigurations class.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something” Draco breathed out. He was getting desperate, it was unbearable, the teasing he’d been receiving from his friends once they’d noticed he wasn’t making any progress with you, and he knew if he didn’t do something soon he was going to lose the bet.

“Well can it wait? I need to get to class” you huffed watching as he pushed himself off the wall to come and stand in front of you, causing your body to turn with him, your back eventually colliding with the wall behind you.

“I was wondering” Draco smirked placing a hand next to your head as he leaned in closer towards you, you now only realizing how much taller he was then you as you found yourself craning your neck upwards to meet his eyes.

“Would you like to be my date for the Jingle Ball” the words made your stomach flip and you felt the sudden urge to let out a squeal, but you somehow managed to keep yourself together, taking in a deep breath before you took a step forward his hand slipping from the wall your faces mere centimeters from each other.

“No” you stated watching as his eyes went wide, clearly, he wasn’t anticipating that answer.

“If you want me to even consider going out with you after all the shit you’ve done over the years, you’re going to have to work for it.”

He watched your ascending figure before you fully left his sight and when you did he angrily kicked the wall cursing underneath his breath, he was used to getting everything and anything he ever wanted without as much as a snap of his finger so this was something he wasn’t used too.

The stakes were high, his entire reputation was on the line and he did not intend to give Blaise the satisfaction of being right or his housemates a reason to tease him for what would probably be the rest of his life.

All the girls at this school would practically fall at his feet, why couldn’t you be like those girls? Make this easy for him, not once in his life had Draco Malfoy had a real challenge when it came to girls but now it seemed the tables had turned, he was going to play your game and he was going to win.

-

It was now the day of the Slytherin versus Gryffindor quidditch game. You, Harry and Hermione, were all sat in the Great Hall watching as Ron entered in his Quidditch gear, helmet, and everything.

You had yet to tell Hermione about Draco asking you to the ball since you didn’t really know how you felt about it yourself and also because he probably wouldn’t be asking you out again, you having let him down quite harshly.

You glared over at the Slytherin table once you heard them beginning to yell things along the lines of ‘Ron you’re a loser’, ‘he doesn’t stand a chance’ and ‘nice hat Weasley’.

“Ignore them, Ron, I know you’ll do great” you reassuringly smiled up at your friend as he took a seat opposite you, his face contorted in worry as he looked over at the Slytherin table who continued to laugh at him.

“Yeah, thanks” he gulped once he turned back to face you, this had to have been the first time you’d ever seen Ron leave his food untouched.

“You look dreadful Ron” Luna’s voice could be heard from the other end of the table, your eyes widening as you looked over at her, “Is that why you put something in his drink” she finished, the last part of her sentence directed at Harry.

You looked over at the boy sat next to you and faintly managed to see a glimmer of light before it disappeared fully into his pocket.

“Liquid Luck?” Hermione sounded from opposite you and you finally managed to put two and two together.

“Are you mental Harry? You’ll get in so much trouble if you’re caught” your eyes widened as you watched him pass Ron the cup of pumpkin juice he’d poured his one vile of Liquid Luck into moments ago, well according to Luna at least.

“Don’t drink it Ron” Hermione scolded, before you both gasped as you watched Ron without a moment’s thought chug the remaining juice in his cup.

You watched intently as his frown was turned upside down and he slammed the cup back onto the table, a sly smirk now playing on his lips.

“You could be expelled for that” Hermione pointed out glaring at Harry who innocently smiled at her before shrugging and stating that he had no idea what she was talking about.

“Come on Harry we’ve got a game to win” Ron’s sudden aura of confidence was radiating off of him as he quickly pushed himself away from the table and began exiting the Great Hall.

“We’ll see you guys there?” Harry questioned as he looked between the two of you also beginning to stand up.

“We wouldn’t miss it” Hermione assured him as you both watched him awkwardly wave before he turned to follow Ron.

“This is going to be interesting”

-

Loud screams and chants began filling your ears as you watched the two teams make their way out onto the Quidditch pitch, you and Hermione quickly joined in beginning to clap and cheer as you made eye contact with Ron who looked as ready as ever.

A particular blond seemed to have caught your eye since before you knew it Madame Hooch was announcing the start of the game causing you to snap out of your trance, when you looked back at Draco he was already smirking up at you making you quickly look away as your cheeks turned bright red, pulling your Gryffindor patterned scarf up over your face in hopes that he wouldn’t notice the crimson colour.

“Seekers shake hands!” you watched as Harry and Draco walked up to each other clasping each other’s arms before Draco retorted something in Harry’s direction causing him to quickly pull his hand away from his the game now officially beginning.

It had been almost an hour now and so far Gryffindor was in the lead the score being 23-45. You were beginning to think you’d lost your voice but nevertheless you still raised your hands high in the air and cheered Harry on as he dove towards the snitch with Draco hot on his heels.

You anxiously began biting your nails as the two continuously bumped into each other both their arms outstretched as they neared the golden object.

“Come on Harry” you whispered the anticipation was killing you, but you didn’t have to wait much longer since the two boys suddenly crashed into each other sending them both flying off of their brooms and hurling towards the grass below.

You gasped as you stood up beginning to lean over the railing to get a better look at the two seekers who now both laid on the grass clutching their stomachs, but you widely smiled once you noticed a familiar shimmer coming from Harry’s hand.

“Yes!” you screamed as he carefully sat himself up raising the golden object up into the air for the rest of the stadium to see. Your happiness was quickly replaced with worry once you noticed the Slytherin boy laid next to Harry wasn’t moving.

“Is Malfoy okay?” you frantically shook Hermione as you pointed down at him but Hermione paid you no mind her eyes trained on Ron who was proudly raising his hands in the air as it was announced that Harry had caught the snitch.

Since everybody seemed to be too caught up with themselves you again leaned over the railing before screaming Draco’s name hoping it would at least capture the attention of someone from his team so they could help him.

You felt a wave of relieve wash over you as you watched his previously limp body turn over before he placed his hands on the grass pushing himself to sit up, the hand that wasn’t holding him up immediately going to rub his forehead.

He sent a glare Harry’s way before he grabbed his broom and began storming off the field his teammates following shortly after, for some odd reason you began to feel bad for him as you watched the disapproved glances from his fellow Slytherin’s being thrown his way but you decided to push the feeling away joining in on the celebration of your house.

Once you arrived at the Gryffindor common room a celebration had quickly ensued the hollering of Ron’s last name began sounding all around the room as you began clapping in rhythm to all of their chants, you and Hermione watching as Ron got pushed in the middle of the crowd.

Before you knew it a girl you didn’t know the name of had wrapped her arms around his neck, harshly pulling him down to meet her lips, you gasped as you faintly remembered a conversation between you and Hermione where she’d admitted to harboring a crush on the ginger boy.

You quickly turned to see Hermione pushing her way through the crowd and out of the common room. You began following her but quickly lost sight of her as you tried your best to squeeze through the teenagers who had now begun lifting Ron into the air.

“Hermione!” you called out but it was impossible to hear anything over the celebrations so you gave up on calling out to her simply resorting to pushing the students that stood in your way.

Once you finally managed to reach the door that led out into the hallway you frantically pushed it open beginning to search the corridors for your best friend.

When you rounded a particular corner, you came crashing into a much taller figure then yourself sending you flying towards the ground at the impact.

“Watch where you’re goin-“ the familiar voice of Draco Malfoy sounded from above you but stopped once he made eye contact with you. “Y/L/N?” he questioned before reaching his hand out to you which you accepted letting him pull you back up onto your feet.

“What are you doing out here, shouldn’t you be celebrating?” there was a defiant malice to his tone as he scowled in the direction of your common room where chants could still be faintly heard.

“I could ask you the same thing Malfoy” you raised an eyebrow since you weren’t anywhere near the dungeons where the Slytherin common room was.

“Just needed some air, some people aren’t exactly thrilled with the outcome of today’s game” Draco shrugged causing your stomach to drop slightly at his obvious disappointment. He sat himself down on a bench a heavy sigh leaving his lips as he let his head fall back onto the wall.

You slowly sat down next to him carefully contemplating your next words. “Not that it would mean anything to you but I thought you were really good” you tried to comfort him as you watched a faint smile appear on his lips before he turned his head towards you.

You didn’t realize just how close you were to each other until his eyes quickly looked down to your lips and back into your eyes. You suddenly remembered why you were out here in the first place, your thoughts traveling back to Hermione who had disappeared only moments ago.

“I’m sorry but I really need to go, uh- I’ll uh see you in class” you excused yourself before standing up and continuing your search for your best friend, but a hand wrapping around your wrist stopped you dead in your tracks as you were turned back around.

Your eyes slowly travelled up from Draco’s tight grip on you and back into his icy grey eyes. You carried a confused glance on your face which Draco seemed to notice since he quickly let go of your wrist.

“Thank you” is all he said before he swiftly turned back around and began walking down the corridor, disappearing out of sight.

next part

[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!

[rinkrats]

🥺 that mike lange story. But also those tags #sid loooves christmas #he loves giving presents #looks good in red #piles on the pounds fast #post hockey career as santa 😂😂👌🏽👌🏽

he loves his mementos and presents and is COMMITTED to them. scrapbooking. matching jackets. little pills with hidden motivational messages~*~ his love language is gifts and neck smooches and stalking geno. relevant right now are some anecdotes i sent a friend earlier this year for dorky sid gifts fic fodder:

1. Crosby's constant thoughtfulness would be impressive from anyone, much less someone of his stature.

"Sid always texts me happy birthday, he's always asking me like, how's Russia?" Evgeni Malkin said. "We talk and message all summer. He asks me how my skates are. He knows, like, everything. He follows my Instagram, I think (laughs)."

In addition to having a handle on those little details, Crosby is constantly providing those around him with memories and mementos. If the team is on the road and goes, say, sightseeing or to a sporting event and takes a group photo, Crosby will later send a framed copy to everyone.

When Ron Hextall and Brian Burke watched their first Penguins game in person, Crosby is the one who approached head equipment manager Dana Heinze and asked for two used game pucks to give to the new GM and president of hockey ops. 

After the Penguins won in 2009, Crosby had jackets made for the three players on the team who had scored a Cup-clinching goal in Game 7: Talbot (Pittsburgh), Ruslan Fedotenko (Tampa Bay) and Mike Rupp (New Jersey).

"They were blue jackets with gold buttons, and each one had a patch on it that said 'GWG Game 7,'" Talbot said. "At one of our first team meals the next season, he presented us with the jackets and did a big ceremony with the music and stuff. We had a private room in the restaurant. I still have the jacket."

-The Consummate Teammate, Captain and Ambassador, Feb 2021

2. Merz: My first interaction with Sid was when we were on the bench, guys were talking about a teammate, and the first thing this 15-year-old says is, “Hey, guys. Let’s keep everything positive. Don’t talk about your teammates that way.”

Salcido: When we were getting ready for nationals, he found these little pills that you could put a hidden message inside. They unscrewed, and inside was a tiny scroll. He gave one to every teammate. … He had everyone fill one out. He didn’t tell anyone what to write, but he made it known that we all knew what the goal was: winning nationals. So we wrote on our scrolls, rolled them up and put them in the pill thing. We kept them with us everywhere we went.

-‘Is this real?’: Stories of Sidney Crosby’s year at a Minnesota prep school, May 2020

3. On “Butterfly Boy” Jonathan Pitre:

Though the Senators are his team, Sidney Crosby has always been Jonny’s favourite player. After the TSN documentary airs, Tina gets a call from the Penguins. Sid needs Jonny’s measurements. He wants to have a suit made for him by his personal tailor, Domenico Vacca.

“It’s the kindest, sweetest gesture,” Tina says. “Sid heard that Jonny went to a lot of games, so he wants him to look like he’s one of the guys.”

“I want him to feel like a pro,” Crosby says. “Here’s a guy who is going through something so painful, and his first thought is always, ‘How can I help others?’ When I was young, I’d watch on TV the players coming to the rink in their suits. That was a cool part of being an NHL player. I want him to feel that, to make it as real as possible for him.”

Tina tries to discreetly measure Jonny while she’s changing his dressings. But he’s way too smart for that.

“Um, Mom, why are you measuring me? Am I going for surgery again?” he asks.

“No, no!” Tina replies, trying to reassure him and come up with a good lie, all in the same breath. “The doctor needs them just to make sure they have proper dressings next time you are in.”

A few weeks later, the sharp navy blue suit shows up at their front door, along with a couple of ties, an autographed stick and a handwritten letter from Sid. 

“His eyes just light up,” Tina says. “Jonny always liked to be well-dressed, and he just loves having his own suit. It fits perfectly. He looks so good in it.”

-Beauties by James Duthie (2020)

4. Pascal Dupuis inspired his Pittsburgh Penguins teammates on their run to the Stanley Cup, and Sidney Crosby found a special way of driving that message home.

Dupuis retired in December with lingering health concerns because of blood clots. Despite his NHL playing days coming to an end, the veteran forward remained an integral part of the Penguins and was in uniform to hoist the Cup after Pittsburgh's six-game win against the San Jose Sharks in the Stanley Cup Final.

On Sunday, Dupuis brought the Cup home one last time as a player to share a special day with his family, friends and hometown fans.

"Yes, it does feel bittersweet a little bit," Dupuis said. "You get the Cup, you want to celebrate. But at the same time I got a gift by the mail [Saturday]. Basically, it's a book of all the pictures of all the good stuff we went through. It came from Nova Scotia, so you guys can figure out who it came from (Crosby), but he couldn't give it to me during the season, he saw me skating a little bit.

"And he sent it [Saturday], before my day with the Cup, so he knew what he was doing to get me right here," Dupuis said, putting his fist over his heart.

-Pascal Dupuis shares Stanley Cup with family, friends, Aug 2016

5. In 2011, Crosby was out of the lineup with a concussion, and the Penguins made their annual visit to Children’s Hospital.

Crosby got along so well with one boy there and was so touched that he later asked Bullano to go back... just the two of them, no cameras, no attention.

When Bullano and Crosby met for the follow-up visit, Crosby appeared clutching a pair of Toys “R” Us bags, filled with a Transformer toy the two had discussed.

“He literally bought every type of this toy they make,” Bullano said. “[Crosby] had never seen it before and thought it was so cool.

“There are no pictures of this. There’s no video. He was laying in the bed with the kid. They were just playing. We were there for over two hours. I got to know the mom really well because we were just sitting there.

“The kid had no idea. Didn’t expect it. They had no idea he was coming. We got there and he said, ‘Hey buddy. hope you don’t mind that I came back.’ The kid couldn’t believe it.

“[Crosby’s] crazy cool about stuff like that.”

What’s crazy is trying to recount the many times stuff like this has happened with Crosby:

• The Little Penguins Learn to Play program has been around for nine seasons, outfitting now 1,200 kids with free head-to-toe hockey equipment. Not only does Crosby serve as the face of the program — which the NHL has now adopted — but he helps fund it, too.

“There’s an awareness of what a person in his position can bring,” Penguins vice president of communications Tom McMillan said. “I think he activates that as much as anybody I’ve seen during his playing career.”

• After a recent practice, Crosby noticed a local family in the Penguins dressing room, approached them, introduced himself, learned their story and wound up giving them a signed stick.

Nobody asked Crosby to do that, and he wanted zero credit when discussing it a couple days later.

“For people who have the opportunity to come in here, people dealing with certain things, if you can brighten their day a bit or spend some time with them, it’s something that’s special for all of us,” Crosby said.

• A few years ago, through a team charity event, Crosby befriended a 4-year-old Amish boy with cancer. Crosby remarked to Bullano how much he loved talking to the boy because of how engaging the boy was and how he wasn’t consumed with technology. Crosby even tried to visit the boy but learned he had passed away.

• He learns the first and last names of the kids who attend his hockey school in Cole Harbour, Nova Scotia.

“Two kids came from Japan its first year,” Bullano recalled. “He was so blown away by that. He couldn’t wait to meet them.”

• Earlier this season, the Penguins welcomed Grant Chupinka, 24-year-old cancer patient, into the dressing room. Crosby chatted up Grant and his parents, Steve and Kim.

He spent his usual time — about two or three times the requirement. Gave the tour. Then found out the Chupinkas didn’t have tickets for that night’s game and decided he would pay for them to go.

“I’m sure he could just give them an autographed puck or something, but he takes his time to go out and see them and talk to them and get to know them,” Brian Dumoulin said. “It speaks volumes for him and who he is as a person.”

Spend any length of time with Crosby during his visits with those less fortunate, and a few things become obvious.

One, Crosby is really good at these. Smooth but not in a slimy way. Sweet. You know how when you’re around someone talking and they go out of their way to make eye contact with everyone around? That’s Crosby.

He’s also humble, always introducing himself like those he’s meeting don’t already know. Holding a hand is no issue. And Crosby is the rare 20-something pro athlete without kids who acts every bit like he does.

“It is not an easy situation to talk to someone with terminal cancer,” McMillan said. “A lot of people couldn’t do that. He has an amazing ability to do that and make that person feel good.”

Crosby has welcomed several Make-a-Wish kids and tries, if at all possible, to schedule such events for practice days — to maximize the time he’s able to spend.

He’s developed a special friendship with Patrick McIlvain, a soldier who nearly died when he took a bullet to the head in Afghanistan. McIlvain actually does physical therapy with one of Crosby’s sticks.

A former club hockey player at Cal U, McIlvain comes by every year, and the Penguins don’t even bother to tell Crosby. Either he already knows or immediately stops what he’s doing to come say hello.

“He’s not doing it to leave a legacy,” said Terry Kalna, Penguins vice president of sales and broadcasting. “His numbers leave the legacy. He’s just a down-to-Earth, good guy.”

Before a visit, Crosby has Bullano email him what is essentially a scouting report on who he’s going to meet. He likes to learn about them, their situation and what they’ve been through. As much information as he can ingest. Crosby never just swoops in, shake a hand and leave.

“As much as anyone has ever seen, he accepts the responsibilities of being not just a professional athlete but a star professional athlete,” McMillan said. “He views it as part of the job. Like coming to the morning skate. That’s just what you do.”

Put another way, “he owns those moments,” says Kalna.

Said Bullano, “He’s just a good human being.”

-When it comes to giving, Sidney Crosby does as much as he can, Feb 2017

6. When Crosby received a generous signing bonus on his Reebok deal, he wanted to share it with everyone.

“He gave everyone on the bus gifts,”  says Oceanic radio commentator Michel Germain. “Him sharing his bonus with all the people he’d been travelling with for two years, that impresses me greatly. I think the most important thing about Sidney Crosby is his personality and the kind of human being he is. What he exuded. The inner richness he’d already developed.” 

-Superstitious and generous, Dec 2006

7. also this simply because it makes me ;w;

Even in defeat — no, especially in defeat — Sidney Crosby proved why he wears the "C" for the Penguins.

After the game, with his heart sinking and his season over, the Penguins’ captain bent over, sank to the ice to pick up the puck, took it to linesman Tony Sericolo and then skated to his team’s handshake line.

I immediately thought of a View from Ice Level I’d written on Crosby making sure a retiring official was sent away from PPG Paints Arena properly. I knew picking up the puck wasn’t for the same reason that was, but I also knew, in some way, it was connected to Crosby’s awareness and respect of the game.

“It was for the Islanders,” Crosby told me after the game, his eyes swollen from a first round exit – by way of a sweep to make it worse. He told me how the winning team always wanted the puck, and it was his way of providing it for the Islanders.

Crosby looked me right in the eye as he told me this, just as he did with every other member of the media to come to him after the loss.

I could tell from those swollen eyes and the way he sat at his stall, by himself with his hands folded as he stared blankly, that Sidney Crosby is much more used to being on the receiving end of a puck when a series ends than he is at retrieving it for the winning team.

That scene. His swollen eyes. Staying in the locker room until most had left – talking to anyone who needed him. Most of all, though, picking up the puck that prompted my question in the first place and making sure the right people got their piece of their own history.

It all adds up to one thing: In victory and in defeat, Crosby respects the game above all else – just as he’s always done.

-Even in defeat, Crosby shines, April 2019

[illusionsofdreaming]

How about a Cale proposing/asking out Reader for marriage/date?? I love your fics and this is just a thought that I often imagine (It's usually people asking him out but this might be a nice change!? I think...)

Ft: Cale

Tap tap tap tap tap-

It was the soothing rhythmic sound of not getting anything done. Concentration having long since fled the premises as he stared blankly at the notes on the table, watched as the blue nib danced up and down and up and down again.

The notes were important he supposed but his heart wasn’t into it, mind occupied and consistently distracted by a particular receipt on his table.

It’s been several days and he has yet to hear a reply.

He’s not quite sure what to make of it. Certain social rules of this world clashed with his modern-day knowledge of social cues. One would think he’d have an advantage as one who transmigrated into a novel he’d read, but The Birth of a Hero never properly introduced the social decorum of the world in detail. 

Perhaps the only reason he made it thus far with his half baked knowledge of etiquette was thanks to Cale’s trashy reputation which, ironically enough, made people more accepting of his faux pas. Alas, if it weren’t for Hans’ persistent nagging that he should handle this important matter ‘the proper way’, he really wouldn’t have bothered. Now he’s stuck between a rock and a hard place. Would it mean anything if he were to send a follow up letter? Or perhaps he should go there himself-

A knock on his door distracted him from his thoughts and he glanced up to see the origin of his headaches, Hans, peek in. 

“Young master, you have guests from the _________ household and-“

Cale was out the doors before Hans finished.

⚛》》》》》◆《《《《《⚛

Despite having your back to him it was almost embarrassing how quickly he was able to pick you out amidst the crowd of people.

“__________.” He greeted, snow crunching beneath his boots as he neared your side, he hoped his breathing wasn’t too quick as he’d rushed over as soon as he’d learn of your visit. The burning question rested on the tip of his tongue, the cure-all to his worries as he reached for your hand. “I have been wait-“

“Cale! Just the person I wanted to see!” You turned, smile brightening your features as you pulled him closer, close enough that he could see how the cold had already kissed your cheeks pink. 

“Did you receive-“

“Yes, that’s why I’m here!” 

A flutter of nerves was set alight in his chest that made him weirdly jittery. How unusual. He’d always been so assured of the results of his plans (and he’s confident in his prediction of your response) yet he couldn’t help but feel flustered. He understood nothing of this world’s customs and Hans did mention a response would’ve usually been sent by letter. Does you coming here in person symbolise something he’s not getting again?

Something was pressed into his hand and his heartrate spiked uncomfortably as he glanced down to receive the scroll you passed to him.

He hesitated, frowning at the brown parchment. Noting the ugly frayed edges and wondering, why couldn’t you have just told him what’s written within since you’ve travelled all the way here anyways.

“Take a look.” you urged him and he sighed.

“Can’t you-“ his words faltered off abruptly as he unfurled the paper to reveal a mess of lines and sketches, his mind blanked as he stared uncomprehending at the contents. “W.. what is this..”

“Isn’t it exciting?” you glanced at the paper, delight and unadulterated joy shone through your eyes. “The designs for the waterways are finally complete! We can finally move onto the next phase, I’ve even gathered the others to discuss this! It shouldn’t take long, we just need to iron out the logistics and-“

He’d tuned out as he stared at prototype on the page, his mind struggled sluggishly to make sense of what’s happening. Cale’s expression remained carefully blank as he lifted his head up to look at you and finally noticed the circle of vassals awkwardly standing around them. 

Huh? 

⚛》》》》》◆《《《《《⚛

“..implementation of the new waterways will greatly improve the situation in the slums and if we...” 

If looks could set things on fire, the conference table would’ve long turned to ashes with how hard Cale’s been glaring. He had rested his two elbows on the oak table, fingers weaved together to create a net that supported his chin. To others, the firstborn son of the Henituse household may seemed to be in a contemplative mood, in truth, Cale had zoned out since the very beginning.

Perhaps there’s been a mistake. Maybe you did not receive it or perhaps he’d missed another social cue. Did he unknowingly commit another taboo?

“…Cale?”

He shouldn’t have listened to Hans’ ridiculous suggestions when he knew he had no patience for the roundabout and overly complex ways people liked to handle things here. He ran a tired hand past his face. Right, next thing he’s going to change in this world would be the removal of all redundant and confusing social constructs. First, he’ll start with the books on courtroom etiquette-

“Cale.”

A hand landing on his shoulder jolted him from his thoughts and he looked up to meet your frustrated gaze. He gaped, caught off guard by your ire.

Your long sigh pricked at his conscience but you interrupted him before he could explain himself. “I sent the others out for a break.” You sat on the edge of the table facing him, although clearly annoyed, there was concern in the slight dip of your brows.

“You’ve been distracted the entire meeting Cale.” 

He rubbed the back of his neck, pressing against the tension building there. “Sorry.” He admitted softly. 

“Is something on your mind?”

You. 

“It’s nothing.” To admit that his thoughts were in shambles all because of an unanswered letter would’ve been far too pathetic. Gods, when have he fallen so low. “I need a drink.” he decided abruptly and would’ve gotten up and escaped, but you knew him too well. With a subtle shift of your weight that looked all too natural, you leaned forward and your two hands rested against his armrests to support yourself in a comfortable lean, effortlessly and efficiently caging him in. 

“Cale.” Your tone broke no argument. It was clear he was not going anywhere until he cleared this matter up.

He sighed, slumping against the chair in defeat as he dragged his gaze slowly upwards with the reluctance of a child who’d just been caught with their hands in the cookie jar and was now forced to admit their wrongdoings. He hesitated when he caught a glimmer of something on your shirt. 

Somewhere along the meeting, as the room got warmer you must’ve taken off your thinner overcoat, it would’ve explained why he hadn’t noticed such an obvious accessory from the beginning. But now that he had laid eyes on it, Cale can’t seem to look away. His hand reached out cautiously, brushing over delicate work, the building tension within him eased away as he reminiscences at the nostalgic sight. 

It had only been several weeks ago when he’d went out to find the best jeweller in the Kingdom to have a specific brooch made. A bright golden shield with the Henituse’s family mascot emblazoned on, two magnificent rubies inlaid as eyes. 

With the solid feeling of the brooch under his fingers, his previous worries melted off like sleet to be replaced with an indescribable warmth in his chest.

“It suits you.” he finally says. It really does. 

Cale never liked things made in his honor, but something about you wearing his symbol made him feel a lot of things. 

Your rumble of laughter made him look up and you brushed a hand through his locks, amusement in your eyes. “Is that it? That’s what’s been bothering you all morning?” you mused.

He snorted and slumped forward, resting his face on your lap. “You wouldn’t reject it.”

“Confident, aren’t we?” you laughed and carded your fingers through his hair.

It was the truth which you both knew. He had never been a stickler for rules. The relationship between you happened as a gradual process, you two clicked and it just eased into your daily routine and became the norm. There was never any need or desire to announce it officially. But as someone who transmigrated into this world, who also decided to continue living in it, he wanted to do it your way. Because in the end, even if it was bothersome, annoying and baffled his 21st century mind, the gesture would mean something to you.

Now that he’s solved the mystery, satisfied he didn’t botch up some weird etiquette, he had time to analyse the day’s events and realised one thing. He lifted his head from your lap, “You orchestrated this. The waterways weren’t that urgent.” he deadpanned, stuck between feeling awe that you took all the effort to tease him and indignation that you’d dare.

“It’s not often one gets the chance to fluster you.” you admitted, not at all feeling guilty when you got the chance to witness his bewilderment first hand.

“Aigoo..” he clicked his tongue and in one swift movement, stood from his seat, forcing you to lean back as his arms landed by your sides, effectively reversing your positions. “You’d bother the vassals for this, how bold.”

You blinked innocently up at him. “I bothered no one actually, they all volunteered to help.”

He frowned. Traitors. The whole lot of them. He could actually hear them cheering outside the room. He’s going to have to tell Basen to talk to them about their loyalties soon. Well. Not that it would matter much. He glanced down at the gleaming brooch on your chest and his lips twitched into a satisfied smile despite himself. 

Perhaps there’s a reason behind such silly traditions after all.

Notes: So I combined these two asks because they’re pretty similar and to answer your questions: I believe Cale’s not one for grand gestures and formal things but he’ll occasionally abide by certain traditions if it has special meanings and especially if it’d mean something to you. 

[stuff-from-the-void-matron]

Laurel Wreaths & Animal Teeth (9)

(c!technoblade x fem!reader)

(so people showed they liked chapter 8 well enough so I wrote chapter 9! also how miffed would everyone be if... this was also maybe a dreamxd x reader fic? like idk i’m just having some persuasive thoughts. also don’t forget to show this chapter some love or I won’t have the motivation to do chapter 10! reblogs and comments are the best! <3)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wilbur did not like this ‘Reader’ person. God she was just as bad as Quackity, coming into L’manberg and making demands and acting like they even HAD a say in HIS country. Now more than ever he wished he’d have just exiled Quackity instead of humoring him with this ridiculous election. There shouldn’t BE an election. HE was the rightful president of this country! He fought and died for this country. Put his blood, sweat, and tears into it! HIM! Not them! 

“-ur?”

This whole election thing was a mistake. He should have just listened to his gut.

“ilbur?”

But he’d been pressured by everyone to ‘be fair’ or whatever. Nobody knew what was best for L’manberg but HIM. 

“Wilbur!”

The curly brunet jolted a bit at the sudden shout to his left, he blinked and felt himself unfurrow his eyebrows before looking over at his vice president. Said teenager was looking at him curiously, eyebrows raised in a questioning way. No doubt wondering what his friend was doing just standing there silently and chewing on his thumbnail like a madman. He was still tense but gave a quick ‘sorry’ before saying he was just lost in thought.

Tommy gave a semi awkward laugh and joked that it looked like he was trying to catch the wall he was staring at on fire just by staring at it. Wilbur gave a polite chuckle at the younger man’s attempt at mood lightening humor before sobering instantly and saying in a deadly serious tone that had the blond stiffening up anxiously,

“I don’t like this ‘Reader’ person you’ve been hanging out with Tommy. She seems really judgmental and arrogant. Not to mention her attitude. She’s argumentative and childish. She very clearly doesn’t care about you or L’manberg.”

That last part hit Tommy right in the chest like the blow from a size 12 boot. How could Wibur say that? You did care! You did! You wouldn’t have-.. People who don’t care wouldn’t-.. 

Tommy’s hurt showed on his face, making Wilbur sigh in sympathy before clapping the younger boy on the shoulder and saying that it would be best for him to just focus on the L’manberg election. This Reader person was just serving as a distraction from Tommy’s job as vice president anyways. And Tommy didn’t want that, right? Wilbur had entrusted him to be his VP over everyone else. He couldn’t slack on that, right? Tommy just gave a mumbled ‘yeah, s’pose not’ but it was clear he didn’t have his heart in it, though that was all the affirmation Wilbur needed to think the conversation was over..

-0-

You sat in the audience with Tubbo and Fundy for a bit while the candidates talked to each other up on the stage. Fundy seemed sweet, if not a bit mischievous. Though you supposed that should be expected from a fox hybrid. You smiled when his ears went back after you asked why his uniform was a lighter color than the others, unable to not think he looked adorable. But when he huffed, pretty obviously upset but trying not to show it, you frowned. And you pursed your lips when he explained that it was in ‘baby colors’ because Wilbur thought it would be cute for his ‘little champion’ to have a different uniform compared to everyone else.

You couldn’t help but awkwardly ask, “Aren’t you an adult though?” To which Fundy gave a slightly loud and exasperated, “YES!” that made you feel sorry for the poor hybrid. You gave him a reassuring look and said that well if he didn’t like the uniform then he didn’t have to wear it. Or if he liked it save for the color then just dye it darker to match the others. Fundy looked a bit put out and replied that he’d thought about dying it or just not wearing it but then his dad would be all depressed and hurt. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes and say that he shouldn’t set himself on fire to keep others warm.

“You don’t have to do whatever your dad wants you to just because he’s your dad or cuz he’ll be sad. You’re an adult now Fundy. It’s time you make decisions for yourself in mind, not your dad.”

Fundy started up at you with wide eyes, like he’d never heard anyone tell him that before. Which was worrying but you put it out of your mind before continuing,

“Caring about others is important, yes. But you can’t let yourself be miserable just to avoid maybe making your dad sorta bummed out. That doesn’t seem fair to you.”

Tubbo chimed in from his spot to your left and said that the uniform was a symbol of their independence from the Dream Smp, they wore it to show they were loyal to L’manberg. He didn’t say it accusingly or even angrily, just in a factual matter-of-fact way. You said that might be true but then asked why Fundy’s uniform was different? Shouldn’t they all look the same if they supposedly stood for the same thing? If they’re meant to have a deeper meaning then they shouldn’t be altered for a joke. You said he had to see how that would make Fundy feel left out. You asked how Tubbo would feel if he were the only one with a different uniform and stood out. The brunet boy’s goatish ears drooped and he mumbled that he’d be sad. You ruffled his hair and turned back to Fundy.

“Look Fundy, if you wanna keep wearing the uniform as it is, that’s fine. If you wanna wear it but only after altering the color, that’s also fine. But if you wanna drop the uniform altogether then that’s fine too. It’s up to you, Fundy.”

Fundy looked contemplative, like he’d never thought he’d had a choice in the matter. But here he was with three whole options thanks to you. He honestly wasn’t sure which one he’d end up choosing, he had a lot to think about. But he gave you a grateful little smile and soft ‘thanks’ that made the corners of your lips quirk up. Though your chat soon came to an end when Fundy saw Niki approaching. He and Tubbo waved happily to her and gestured for her to come over. She stared up at you with mostly hidden surprise and said hello before Fundy introduced you both. Niki looked almost shy as she gave a short wave up to you. You chuckled and greeted her warmly and said you liked her uniform, pointing out hers was a different color than the others, like Fundy’s. She looked down at her blue version of the L’manberg uniform and flashed a grin and said,

“Yeah, I just liked the lighter blues better than the bright red and navy.”

You brightened and gently tapped Fundy’s shoulder with the back of your hand and cheerfully pointed out that if Niki could choose to alter her uniform from the original she was given then he should be able to do the same no problem. His ears twitched happily and he grinned, showing off his canines and nodding. This led Niki to asking him what you meant and him explaining he wasn’t happy with how his uniform was dyed. She agreed with you, if he wasn’t happy then he should change the color. But she joked that he should avoid any bright greens… Fundy let out a bark of laughter before Niki gasped and pointed out they, as in she and Fundy, had to go get ready. Tubbo raised an eyebrow and asked if they were still planning on running in the election. Fundy sighed and said yes, like he’d been giving that same answer repeatedly. He probably had been, sadly.. 

“Oh, you’re both running for president and vice president?” You asked good naturedly. 

Fundy nodded, waiting for you to give some kind of remark about him running, or how it was against his dad, or something else. But instead you just flashed him an encouraging smile and wished him and Niki good luck. You glanced at the fox hybrid and the blonde next to him before nodding and commenting that they both looked smart, with good heads on their shoulders. You thought they’d do just fine. Fundy’s tail was wagging from the genuine encouragement, making Niki giggle a little. The two did actually have to go get ready, so you and Tubbo said good luck and waved them off before chatting about this and that. The election speeches would be starting soon..

-0-

He was watching her again. 

He couldn’t help it. He’d started watching her just to ensure she wasn’t going to pose a threat to the server, but the more he watched her the more he started to actually enjoy it. She was like him and Drista, maybe not exactly, but more than anyone else on the server. But at the same time she was so incredibly different. Seeing her interact with villagers and mobs and now players was intriguing. She was so much more powerful than all of them combined, but she had no trouble blending in like she was just another player. End sake, most of them even seemed to gravitate towards her!

The only other time he’d seen a deity blend in so well with mortals was… Dream. But he tried not to think about that too much.

His currently invisible form phased through the building he’d been lurking beside, going up until he had a better view of the seats in the audience by the stage. He watched her and the small hybrid boy she’d endeared herself to bid a fox hybrid and blonde girl goodbye before taking their seats. He watched her sit and talk happily with the brown haired boy so easily. He wanted to learn to do that. It may be foolish but he wants to be like her. Happy, open, accepted, loved. He’s powerful, yes. He’s the most powerful being on this server without a doubt. But… it gets lonely. Sure Drista is around sometimes but she sleeps so often, preferring her dream world more than the waking one. And Dream… well that’s complicated. 

His brother and him have a… tense relationship after the whole ‘falling from grace’ debacle that happened so long ago. Dream barely speaks to him anymore. Actually the last time they’d spoken face to face was after that silly little war Dream had been in not too long ago. He’d told him that he just wanted to sleep afterwards. At the time he didn’t bother to involve himself in the daily lives of the server’s players like Dream did so he wasn’t exactly sure of the intricacies of the whole ‘disagreement’ that led to the fighting. But according to Dream some players wanted to govern themselves because drugs? It all sounded utterly stupid to him so he just sort of didn’t absorb any of the details Dream was complaining about. To him it seemed like the more involved with the players Dream got the more stressed out and tired he became. Though he hadn’t spoken to Dream since their last talk when Dream had vented about all of this. 

‘Perhaps I should visit my brother soon,’ the floating entity thought with a hum before he faded from the realm, drifting back to the End.

-0-

Some time had passed and during it you chatted with Tubbo casually, idly noting all the people who started to trickle into the seats around you. You recognized most in one way or another. Some more than others. Like you’d watched a good deal of the ‘main characters’ on the dsmp. And while you knew the names and skins of the lesser involved players you didn’t watch their videos much. Like Callahan, Punz, and Ponk. You knew the bare bones info about them. In fact most of what you knew was from clips and animatics you’d seen on youtube..

You tuned back into the election, watched from the front row as the rally began. It looked like Quackity was going first, alone too it seemed since George was nowhere to be found. Apparently he was ‘too busy being gorgeous’ to bother showing up. You pursed your lips when you noticed Quackity was sounding a touch nervous at first. Which you could understand, speaking in front of a crowd was always tough. Especially if you’re not really used to it, which even then you’d heard that public speakers said they never truly got rid of the jitters going out in front of a crowd causes. So you sent some good vibes to Quackity, he may not be the one you necessarily want winning this election but.. well you don’t want him to embarrass himself either. But it turns out he.. didn’t do great but didn’t bomb either. It didn’t help that the others running were making little comments through his speech. 

He spoke about caring about the people of L’manberg and how his endorsement was KSI, despite the fact KSI hadn’t replied back to him. Not a great start. Also Jesus Christ himself apparently. That had actually made you laugh a little. And you laughed louder when you heard the chime to signify you’d gotten a message, only in multiple around you. Turns out everyone had gotten a message from Dream on the main channel. 

<Dream> god endorses swag2020

Quackity laughed, cheering loudly while Wilbur rolled his eyes and Tommy sighed. Then it was Pog2020’s turn to show off their endorsements. The first of which being Vikkstar it seemed. You couldn’t help but think it was so surreal to see these… well normal people from real life being canon characters in the Dream SMP universe… apparently. Well that seemed to make the crowd go wild in disbelief and amusement while Tommy pounded his fist on the podium triumphantly while Wilbur cheered. After that Wilbur shoved Tommy aside so he could speak into the podium and said he also brought in an endorsement. And then he introduced…. Schlatt. You wanted to facepalm so bad. You’d actually forgotten this part from the videos. It had totally slipped your mind that Wilbur was the reason Schlatt even knew about the damn election in the first place. 

And to top it off the man was clearly drunk or at least hungover. He didn’t even seem to know where the hell he was. Idly you wondered when he got unbanned by Dream as you watched the messages from Schlatt roll through on the message system. It was mostly him asking where the fuck he was and if the ‘big fuckin’ wall’ he was next to was the Great Wall of China. You facepalmed and heard Tommy say he was going to go fetch him. Quackity was laughing and saying one of their endorsements was ‘some old man’, and you rolled your eyes because little duck boy was gonna be engaged to that ‘old man’ soon.. But you kept that tidbit to yourself. Though when Quackity called the ram hybrid ‘babe’ and he said to not call him that, making Quackity laugh you raised an eyebrow, figuring they were already together! Nonchalantly you wondered how much stuff you’d missed.

And then came the yelling.

Schlatt started rambling about how democracy was overrated and he didn’t ‘need a president’, how he’d be his own president. All while Tommy and Wilbur tried to talk over him and get him off the stage. Then he started shit talking Quackity, asking everyone if they really wanted HIM to be their president. Then he went on a tangent about how Quackity’s vice president ‘stole his woman’, which just caused everyone to laugh, even you. You have to admit, the man was funny if nothing else. Made you wish he wasn’t an alcoholic drug using abusive asshole. Blah Blah Wilbur stole his heart, blah blah Coconut 2020, etc that you were half listening to.

About then is when Tommy, still laughing at this whole debacle, glanced down and noticed you and Tubbo sitting in the front row. He gave a bright grin and waved to you both, to which you both smiled and waved back. This little interaction somehow managed to catch Schlatt’s attention, even through his booze addled ramblings. He just stopped mid sentence and stumbled over to Tommy and asked that the fuck he was even doing. Tommy gave an awkward laugh and said he was just waving hello to his friends. Schlatt gave him a ‘wtf’ look and scanned the crowd for who the blond boy was talking about. His horizontal oval pupils finally landed on Tubbo, making the boy give a slightly stiff wave to the older male. Schlatt stared at the boy for almost a full 20 seconds, making Tubbo sweat nervously. 

You could almost tell yourself that you saw a flash of recognition in the goat hybrid’s eyes, but before you could blink it was gone and he was instead turning to look at you. Your eyebrows lowered as his gaze perked up and a grin you’re not above describing as ‘sleazy’ crossed his features. His eyes raked over your form, making you give him an unamused look. Schlatt leaned over to Tommy, missing how the teen sorta leaned away from him, and asked who ‘the baddie with the fat ass’ was. Tommy grimaced and replied saying for the other man to not say something so gross. 

“That’s Reader, don’t say nasty shit about her man!”

Schlatt laughed and told the younger man to not be such a little bitch, he had to see how hot this woman was! The hair, the horns, the ASS! Before Schlatt could continue to make lewd comments about your person Quackity smacked him with a golden carrot and started cursing him out in Spanish. While the two argued Wilbur went up to the microphone and said that the ACTUAL people running were going to be going into the White House to have a little chat and they’d be right back. Then he and Tommy ran off, Quackity, Schaltt, Niki, and Fundy hot on their heels. Leaving the stage totally empty. Everyone in the audience gave each other side glances before looking up when you stood from your chair and headed to the podium. 

Tubbo blinked in surprise before hopping up and following after you, calling your name and asking where you were going. You ruffled his hair and said you just wanted to say one thing to everyone in attendance. He hummed and followed after you, curious to see what you were up to. You knew the outcome of the election, sadly, and didn’t think there was any way to change it really. But you wanted to impart some wisdom onto the citizens of L’manburg really quick before all those dorks came back after finishing their nonsense. So you sat down on the stage, legs hanging over the side by the podium, and grabbed the mic and sighed before saying to the crowd down below,

“Listen up everyone. I’m not part of the other campaigns or anything, but I wanted to just say something real quick to all of you.”

The crowd watched you with rapt attention, wondering who on the SMP you were. You started off with a light chuckle, saying you’d never been a public speaker so if you started rambling and not making a ton of sense then that was why. Then you took a breath and just said what was on your mind.

“I’m not here to endorse anyone or try to convince you to vote for this or that person. I just wanted to say that despite all the shenanigans going on today that this is actually supposed to be pretty serious. Goofing off aside, you all are going to be voting for the person in charge of your country. The person tasked with ensuring you are all safe and cared for. Being president is a big responsibility. One that shouldn’t be taken lightly.”

You looked at each person in the crowd, lots you knew OF but didn’t know personally. But you made sure to tell them what you thought a president should be.

“Being president shouldn’t be about having glory or power. It should be about working to make sure all your citizens are safe, happy, and above all; THRIVING. If the citizens are miserable or not being heard then the president has failed. So I want you all to think hard about who you want to vote into office. Who do you think will honestly care for your needs as a country? Who will defend you and ensure you’re all living your best lives?”

The crowd seemed to be listening to you, none of them had interrupted you anyways. And Tubbo was smiling, having apparently thought you’d done a good job speaking. But you heard the sound of approaching voices and sighed again. You’ve been sighing a lot today, but that’s not really a surprise is it? Instead of dwelling on it you conclude your speech with a simple,

“Just keep in mind who you’re voting for, because you’re going to be stuck with them for the next few years.”

Then you placed the microphone back on the podium and grabbed Tubbo around the waist, and to the boy’s shock you jumped down from the roughly 8 block high stage. He let out an involuntary high pitched yelp of shock that was abruptly cut off when you both landed on the ground unharmed. He blinked then started laughing, which made you begin to snicker. He shoved your shoulder and called you a bastard for freaking him out. You just teased him for even thinking you’d let him get hurt. He changed the subject when everyone saw Schlatt coming over, though you could tell he was happy to hear you cared. But the moment was over once Schlatt stumbled into the audience, looking more than a little out of it. He hobbled over to the bed Tommy had put down for him before he’d gone on stage and collapsed down onto it, for some reason in mismatched armor and clutching carrots. You had no idea where he got any of that stuff because he’d shown up with nothing but the suit on his back you thought.

But then Wilbur, Tommy, and Schlatt all came back from wherever they’d been while talking. And it didn’t look like they’d come to any peaceful resolution, though you’re not surprised. And you’re even further unsurprised when Quackity announced he was going to be pooling his votes with Schlatt. But that right now the debate was over and they just had to let the voting go on until the next day. So with that Wilbur ended the rally and bid everyone a pleasant rest of their day. And soon everyone had dispersed, leaving Tubbo and you waiting by the stairs that led up to the stage. Tommy walked down with Wilbur, the older of the two looking pensive. But as you all walked down the main path it seemed Wilbur was deep in thought. You watched him while Tommy and Tubbo chatted, but as the cobble path turned to wood the older brunet said he’d see them tomorrow and walked off to who knows where.

Then Tubbo gave you and Tommy a secretive glance and said to follow him, which you both did without complaint. That’s when the brown haired boy started saying he’d been ‘hoping for the best but planning for the worst’. Tommy asked what he was going on about, ‘planning for the worst’?? So Tubbo explained that he’d made a little thing for if things went bad. That’s when you noticed he was leading you both far from the main area and towards the edge of the L’manberg territory by one of the border walls. And there hidden under the water thanks to some craft sign placement was a hidden entrance into a secret tunnel. All of which led to a bunker. Tommy was in disbelief at the sight, frantically asking his best friend when the hell he’d even had time to make this! Tubbo just gave a vaguely cryptic reply of, “I don’t sleep.” Which you scolded him for. You placed a hand on his head and rocked it back and forth a little roughly and said he was a growing boy who needed sleep! 

“Sleep is when your body grows! If you don’t sleep you’ll be short forever!” You huffed.

That made Tommy burst out into borderline hysterical laughter while Tubbo shouted in outrage. You laughed a little and easily blocked the hits Tubbo was weakly trying to land on you. But once they both settled down Tubbo actually showed off the supplies, like potions and such, he’d prepared for Tommy and Wilbur should anything go sour. Tommy, still shocked but appreciative, thanked his friend and said they should go tell Wilbur. They asked if you wanted to come or if you’d like to sleep for the night. You just shrugged and said you weren’t really tired. But you told them THEY needed sleep however. 

They groaned but you shushed them and made them go back to their place and sleep. They said they didn’t have a bed for you but you just pulled out a book and said you’d read by the fire until it was time to read the election results. They complained that they weren’t tired but you hushed them and said you could see how they were more sluggish compared to how they’d been that morning. And after some weak whining they eventually gave in and placed their beds down, took their armor off, and crawled under the blankets. Meanwhile you sat by the furnace, book in hand and hummed to yourself softly as you read. The two boys fell asleep faster than usual, chalking it up to the busy day they had. Not thinking to link it to feeling safe as they laid in bed.

-0-

It felt like barely an hour had passed before the sun was creeping up over the horizon. You’d finished going through the enchantment book forever ago, and it sat on your lap while you stared down at the fire in the furnace. You wondered when the election results would be read out and breathed in slowly, feeling tired but not physically. With nothing else to do you got busy making some breakfast. Just something simple, eggs with toast. But it worked to wake the two boys up, the smell of the fresh food rousing them to the land of the living. They practically devoured the breakfast before slipping their armor on and saying they should go now. It was a decent time to start the day. So they led you along to Wilbur, who had been in the midst of leaving his ball house. The two boys said they had something secret to tell him, and he actually hadn’t wanted to talk ‘government topics’ with you around. You rolled your eyes behind your mask but agreed to go wait by the stage until they were done.

So you sat alone in the audience, watching people slowly arrive as you did. Ponk was the first, his signature fire colored mask and lab coat(?) revealing who he was. Then right after was HBomb, dressed almost like a pirate for some reason? Or maybe he was a referee? He was in black and white stripes with a headband so you’re unsure, could go either way. And then Punz with his stylish white hoodie and gold chain. Then you saw Niki coming down to greet Eret. He was in full netherite and nobody gave her a second glance which sorta surprised you. They’d betrayed everyone hadn’t he? You admit you don’t know much about her. But they seem to be on good terms with Niki at any rate. Regardless he stood to the side, not really sitting with anyone. So maybe things weren’t as gucci as you thought. You were distracted from thinking about it as a man in a L’manberg uniform and headset arrived. Jack Manifold you think. Walking past him was George and Dream. 

You narrowed your eyes at Dream, something about him felt off? Which was weird considering you’d never met the man in person before so you’re not sure how you could tell if he was ‘off’ or not. But something about him was just… weird. Maybe it was the hood and mask obscuring his entire upper body save for some dirty blond hair poking out from said hood. Or maybe how his body moved fluidly like a person but… it also didn’t seem to be in the right proportions. His arms and legs felt a teeny bit too long while his torso seemed shorter than it should be. 

‘Maybe it’s the cut of the hood and pants making it look that way..’ you thought to yourself.

Wilbur speaking suddenly caught your attention, and when you looked up at the stage you saw all the candidates standing there while Tubbo was hurrying over to the seat you’d saved for him next to you. Seemed they were starting now. The little goat hybrid gave you a nervous smile before focusing on the results. Wilbur started reading but paused to ask Tommy why he was standing with his own mic, and then said he should be standing behind him. You watched them bicker a second before Wilbur gave in and let Tommy stand with his own mic. You smiled and shook your head fondly when Tommy gave a silent cheer for himself ‘winning’ that one. Once that was done Wilbur began explaining what was going to happen. They weren’t just reading off the results, they were also going to be inaugurating the winner as president. And then explained how the new president would make a decree and how the first decree was very important.

“My fellow L’manbergians, and by that I mean Ponk, HBomb, and Tubbo. And the others in the crowd as well, including Tommy’s tall friend…” he said while gesturing to you. 

Tubbo loudly cheered for Wilbur, making Tommy and Quackity laugh. You giggled a little at his antics but mostly kept silent to hear. Wilbur announced he had the election results in his hands, then held up an envelope and continued by reading off the four competing parties: POG2020, SWAG2020, COCONUT2020, and SCHLATT2020. And there had been a total of 220,000 votes. This of course confused everyone and Quackity pointed out there were barely 10 people in the audience, so how had so many votes been cast. Wilbur let out a tired sigh and elaborated, saying he’d accidentally opened the vote… to all the other servers when he’d broadcasted the election live…

Everyone started kicking up a fuss, some upset strangers from other servers were weighing in on a server they weren’t even a part of while others found this all hysterically hilarious. Wilbur settled the crowd down and explained there’d been some voter fraud as well, but he’d gotten rid of all the votes that had come from the same communicator protocol. But then he pointed out that all the fraud votes were only voting for one party.. then stared directly at Fundy and Niki. They glanced away from everyone else and Quackity said through laughter that they should be disqualified. Tommy agreed and said there was only one coder in the Coconut2020 party.. But Wilbur sighed when Fundy was silent before saying diplomatically that they should count all the votes regardless of their CP address… Everyone started laughing until Wilbur shushed them and started actually reading off the results, finally.

“In last place is Coconut2020 with 5%,” Fundy and Niki cheered for the votes they did get. Tommy gave them a slightly sarcastic congratulations while Quackity cackled. Then Wilbur continued,

“Then in second to last place with 9% is Schlatt2020…” That was actually surprising to everyone since Schlatt was a very charismatic guy on most fronts and usually never had issues with luring people to his side.

The current president turned to look at Quackity and George then glanced at Tommy and said that the two final running parties were Pog2020 and Swag2020, and coming in third place was…. Swag2020 with 22%. And Pog2020 with 31%. Tommy’s eyes went wide and he practically screamed his joy, nearly tripping backwards in his excitement. He rushed up to Wilbur and demanded to know if they’d won, and when Wilbur said they did Tommy missed the rest of the statement telling him to wait. The blond boy was too thrilled to stop and listen and without thinking he yelled down to you,

“MUM I WON THE ELECTION! WE WON!!” practically bouncing off the stage. 

You gave him a grin, mentally cooing over him calling you mom and not even noticing but inside your stomach was churning as you waited for the other boot to drop.. And after Wilbur calmed Tommy he made clear that Quackity and Schlatt had made a deal to pool their votes. Meaning together they had 31% as well. Meaning it’s a tie. This caused an uproar between the parties, everyone seemingly arguing while you puzzled over it being a tie! That hadn’t happened originally… But it was Niki who quieted everyone and pointed out something rather jarring…

“All four of our votes only equal up to be 67%... there’s a chunk of votes missing!”

Everyone was silent before George barked out a ‘what the hell?!’ that made everyone start arguing again. Schlatt was insisting that Wilbur counted them wrong while Quackity demanded they be recounted. Meanwhile Wilbur adamantly said he’d counted right and they were wrong. It took Tommy snatching the slip of paper out of his hand that had the election results typed out on them to get Wilbur to stop shouting. As Tommy read the list of results he mentally counted up the percentages and frowned before saying Niki was right, that was only like 67%! But then Fundy chimed in and asked what was written on the back. Confused Tommy turned the paper over and his eyes went wide. He was in shock and spoke in a normal tone, which just got drowned out by everyone. Seeing he was being ignored he shouted,

“OI! DICKHEADS! You missed the ‘other’ section of the votes!”

That grabbed Wilbur’s attention easily, he’d forgotten all about the ‘other’ voting option. And hadn’t even known anything was written on the back of the slip of paper. He ripped it out of Tommy’s grasp and rushed to read the back, his voice getting more subdued as he spoke…

“With the most votes at 33% is…. Reader..”

---

@salinesoot @lady-bee-fechin @kacchasu @putridjoy @lunawritesstories @galaxypankitty3030 @paradigmax @zachariethememerie @killmewithafanfic @trinity-1002107 @hufflepuff-demigod @truthdaze @exorcisms-with-elmo @redbloodtea @heythereimhaylz @olyink @jackalopedoodles @nikkineeky @artsimatsu @hufflepuff-demigod @corpiet @beepa99 @anxiousnarwhale @bananaaddictmilkshake @realitycanbeajerk @lostandsouciant

[dirtyoatmeall]

Mad Dogs (Kyotani x Reader)

A/N: soft kyotani is on my mind, luv that angry boy. anywayz I'm working on a long Osamu fic to satiate my burning desire for the onigiri man, it'll be out eventually so enjoy this for now :)

Pairing: Kyotani Kentaro x gn!reader

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: None ! My run on sentences

~

Kyotani could count the times he was genuinely confused on one hand. The time he asked his sister if she was being such a bitch because she was on her period and she responded by threatening to push him down the stairs, the time in first-year when the teacher introduced moles during chemistry, and now, you.

Ever since the beginning of second-year, your actions have never failed to leave the spiker in a state of confusion. One day you sat next to him at lunch, smiling kindly before opening your bento, talking about your day while occasionally asking questions. He never answered them, and you just shrugged and continued on.

He didn’t speak to you for the first week, and when he did, he snapped at you, telling you to leave him alone. You just rolled your eyes and told him “Eat your lunch Kyotani-san, you’ll be less cranky afterwards.” (he did feel better, not that he’d ever tell you.) You’d even bring him food every once in a while, usually when he had a game (not that he ever played). Even when he told you that, you’d just shrug and smile softly, “You never know, so you better eat up, just in case.”

He even thought that Yahaba had possibly put you up to it, in some weird attempt to get him to be a better teammate, but when he brought it up to the setter he just looked at Kyotani oddly and asked, “(Y/N)? Is that the person with the earrings? I’ve never talked to them.” So you just apparently just decided one day to befriend him. (Wait, befriend? You’re not actually friends… are you?)

Another odd thing about you, your accessories. While Aoba Johsai is a private school, it is rather lax on its uniform policy. As long as you had some semblance of the uniform on, you were golden. It gave Kyotani the freedom to cut and dye his hair and wear eyeliner, and it gave you the freedom to wear your… earrings? He asked you about them one day, what they were.

You looked at him bemusedly, “Um, they’re earrings Kyo-san.” When he continued to look at you deadpan, you playfully rolled your eyes, “I was joking! I make them myself, see? Today I’m wearing my beetle ones, and I wore my frog ones yesterday! I just get plastic figures and…” He half-listened while you explained your process, but he found himself focusing on you and not your words. He took in the dopey smile on your face, the way your eyes brightened, and how your hands were more animated while talking about your interests. It was… cute. (Wait, cute? When did he think you were cute?) If you saw the slight blush on his face, you didn’t say anything, which he was thankful for.

After months of eating lunch together, and occasionally accompanying you to the train station, Kyotani found himself coming to the confounding conclusion, he liked you. And not in the ‘I tolerate you’ way. He liked you in the ‘almost got in a fight when someone made fun of your hobby’ way or the ‘I get this weird feeling in my chest when I’m not with you, but when I’m with you I get a weird feeling in my stomach’ way. He had no idea what to do, so he turned to one of the only other people he respected, putting his pride aside to ask for help.

“What did you just say?” His sister looked at him like he had just grown another head. He rolled his eyes, patience thinning. “I said, how do I ask someone out?” It took her a few moments to snap out of whatever daze she was in, a Grinch-like smile appearing (at least, that’s how It looked to him), and she leaned forward. “Aww, does Kenta have a crush? Why don’t you tell me about this mystery person and I’ll tell you the best way to ask ‘em out.” He grits his teeth as he begrudgingly obliged.

After a very painful conversation with his older sister that ended with a “Get them something they like, but not something obvious, something that would show you’ve not only listened, but retained what you know about them.” Kyotani grumbled at the memory, he can’t believe he had to go through all that just to be told something he already knows. He shook his head and got back to the task at hand. He looked at the shelf in front of him, pursing his lips as he contemplated on which one to buy. He thought back to what you’ve worn in the past and decided on one, grabbing two packs and going to the checkout.

It took him three days to do it. The first day he forgot them at home, the second day you had a club meeting, and yesterday he just couldn’t do it. He got in his own head and chickened out. But not today. Today as soon as you sat down next to him in the courtyard, in the shade of one of the many trees on campus, Kyotani thrust the packs toward you, refusing to make eye contact as his cheeks dusted pink. You eyed him warily, but took them nonetheless. When you opened them, you gasped softly.

“Kyo! You got these for me?” You took his silence for an answer and he was glad he glanced at your face at that moment. You had the dopiest smile on your face, eyes big and bright, filled with an emotion he knew all too well. His cheeks darkened and he moved his gaze to your earrings, giraffes. You clutched the packs of plastic figurines to your chest before placing them in your bag. He took the moment to take a deep breath, finally able to think with your eyes off of him. He nodded determinedly to himself and when you turned back around you were surprised to find him closer, gaze unwavering.

“(Y/N).” You raised an eyebrow, “That’s me.” He took another deep breath. (Why was this so hard?) “I like you.” Your cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink, to match his own, and your smile this time was softer, yet held more emotion behind it. You stared at him for a moment, and he tried, and failed, to not freak out. (Why weren’t you responding? Oh god did he make a mistake? He was going to kill his sister, why did he think she would have good advice she never dates any-) His spiralling thoughts were cut off by the feeling of soft lips on his cheek. It only lasted a moment, the spot you kissed burning as his gaze snapped to yours, finding your face much, much closer than before, noses almost touching.

You whispered his name, breath fanning across his face as he tried to keep his gaze level with yours, to not look at your lips. Though when your eyes flickered to his own his only thought was, fuck it. And so he closed the very short distance between you two, cupping your cheek gently as he kissed you. Your hand circled his wrist lightly as you reciprocated, tilting your head slightly, deepening the kiss. Your lips moved against each other a little messily at first, but quickly finding the right rhythm. You gripped his wrist a little tighter, moving to scoot closer, wanting to eliminate any and all space between you two when-

“MAD DOG-CHAN IS THAT YOU? OH MY GOD ARE YOU KISSING SOMEONE” You broke apart with a gasp, turning toward the noise to see four figures about fifteen feet away, when your eyes focused you could see they were the third-years from the volleyball team, Oikawa standing with his hands on his hips, wide grin ever-present. Kyotani growled, eyes focused on the third-years. You squeezed his wrist, turning your face to kiss his palm. He looked at you and you smiled. You took his hand from your face and intertwined it with your own before turning to the ones responsible for the interruption. You waved with a big smile and the third-years laughed and waved back before continuing on towards the school. You turned back to Kyotani, kissing him lightly again before pulling away, a playful smirk on your face. “Mad Dog-chan?” He groaned, hand not intertwined coming up to cover his face as you laughed.

BONUS---

Practice was just ending when you walked into the gym, having just finished your own club activities. You waved in greeting as you passed other players, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend as you pecked his lips, pulling away slightly with a smile. His arms wrapped around you as he pulled you closer, smiling softly. You pulled away fully after a few moments, allowing him to pack his bag. Oikawa came over while he was changing shoes, throwing an arm over your shoulder casually. “Ah (Y/N)-chan! I see you finally turned in your manager application! Don’t worry, it was mostly for formalities, not just anyone can calm down Mad Dog-chan like you- wait, what are those!” He gripped your shoulders as he manoeuvred you in front of him, looking intently just below your ear, you smiled mischievously. “Do you like them? I was inspired by your nickname for Kenta!” You cupped your earring gently as you showed Oikawa (and the other third-years who wandered over to see what earrings you had in today). They laughed as they took them in, dangling from your ears was a pair of blonde colored dogs, each with exaggerated eyebrows pulled down into a ‘v’ shape crudely drawn on, making the dogs look comically angry. “They’re mad dogs!”

[kylie-writes-stuff]

“wife”

pairing: corpse husband x reader (female)

words: 1,714

requested?: no (send some in tho pls :) )

plot/summary: felix invites his friend, y/n, to play among us when they need an extra player. her and corpse get along well

authors note: so this isnt that good and i know a lot of corpse fics use a similar plot. i just wanted to try to write for corpse. hopefully things i write for him in the future are better. let me know what you think tho! also i really wanted reader to be best friends with karl bc i love him sm. uh every swiggly line is like a small time skip. this was written late at night btw and i didnt take much time to go over it

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

You sat up from laying down when you heard your phone ring. You looked at the caller ID.

Felix.

"What's up Felix?" You ask with a small yawn.

"Aww, how sweet," You hear in the background.

You giggle and ask, "Is that Sean? Hi Sean!"

"Yeah, we're playing Among Us and need an extra player. You down?" Felix explained.

"Sure, just give me a few minutes. See you soon, whore"

"Bitc-" You hang up before he can finish.

You got up and turned off your TV, going to get ready. 

⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒

You quickly tweet out that you're going live and say something on your insta story as well. You start your stream and slowly watch people flood in.

"Hey everyone! How are you guys doing?" You wave and smile, reading the chat.

"Everyone doing good, awesome! And i'm sorry to anyone having a bad day. I hope i can brighten it a bit!"

"Okay, sorry i didn't give you a further notice. I didn't even know i was gonna stream. Felix invited me to play Among Us so... here we are!"

You quickly join the discord and pull up the game, putting a cover over where the code goes.

"Hello?" You ask as you join the call. A chorus of greetings came your way.

"(Y/n)?"

"Karl!" You smile brightly.

Karl Jacobs was a good friend of yours. You would play on the Dream SMP sometimes. When you would, it would mostly be you being stupid with Karl and Alex, also known as Quackity. You were even a well know citizen of El Rapids.

"LET'S GOOOOO!" He yelled, making you laugh.

"Hey (Y/n), do you know everyone here?" Sean asks you.

"Um," You quickly scan through the names, "no, i don't think so."

You recognized names but you only personally knew Felix, Sean, Karl, and Ethan.

"Oh my god! Your voice is so cute!" Pokimane exclaims.

You giggle softly, "Thank you Poki!"

You're voice wasn't high pitched or anything like that, you just always spoke very softly and calmly. You were also a bit quiet.

Felix introduces you to those that you didn't know.

"There's one more person we're waiting for," He says.

While everyone waits, you and Karl run around each other's little characters and make jokes between yourselves. You mute yourself to read donations every once in a while.

You hear the discord chime, signaling that someone joined the call.

"WAIT CORPSE! DON'T SPEAK YET!" Felix yelled. "We have a new player. This is my friend (Y/n), say hi to her"

"Hello (Y/n)," Corpse said. You were taken aback by how deep his voice was but you didn't show it.

"Hi Corpse! Nice to meet you!" You said happily.

"Okay, how is she not freaking out?" Bretman said, making everyone laugh.

"Uh, (Y/n), do you mind letting me have black? It's cool if not.." Corpse asked gently.

"O-oh sure, no problem." You were usually black with the pink flamingo hat, but you ran over to the little computer and changed your color.

"Simp," Ethan mumbled, knowing you never switch from black.

"Thank you," He said, then the game started.

The word “Imposter” appeared on your screen in red, yours and Corpse's characters underneath.

As the game started, you thought no one could hear you so you spoke to your chat. "His voice was so deep, what the fuck? Holy shit that was hot, i'm gonna-"

"(Y/n)," Rae laughed, "You know we're playing proximity chat, right."

You blushed as you realized and said "Ha, anyways..." and ran to start faking tasks.

You ended up in electrical with Karl. "(Y/n)! My good friend, my buddy, you would never kill me right? Haha..." He said.

"Of course not, Karl! My good friend, my buddy. Why, I'm not even imposter," I said as i quickly dipped into the vent and back out, making him laugh.

I decided to show him because I knew Karl wouldn't say anything, and it's funny.

"Oh that's good then. Are you sure you're not imposter?"

"Mhm, pretty sure," You said, going back in. As you came out, Sykkuno walked in and froze.

"Uh, (Y/n)?"

"Fuck... Karl run! Go!" You said, Karl starting to leave. You walked closer and quickly killed Sykkuno then vented to security.

"That was close..." You told your chat.

You saw Corpse as you made your way around the map and walked into navigation.

"Hey, Corpse, how ya doing?"

"Ah you know, good. Just being crewmate and all."

You stifled a laugh, "Oh yeah I feel that, buddy."

"Yeah because there's no way that i'm imposter. No way i could be faking tasks and there's no possible way you could be the other imposter" He said quickly.

"For sure. Hypothetically speaking, though, if you were imposter, how many people would you have killed by now?"

"I would say probably around two."

"Interesting," You said right before a body was reported. It was Sykkuno's. Felix and Rae were also dead.

"WHAT!" Corpse yelled.

"Where was the body at?" Sean laughed.

"Uh I found it in electrical," Bretman said.

"I'm pretty sure Karl was in there earlier."

You calmly said, "It's not Karl, I was with him for most of the round."

"How do we know the two of you aren't imposters?" Sean asked.

"I was alone with him, he would have taken the chance to kill me."

"No, he's your best friend."

"He's also ruthless,"

"TRUE! SO TRUE!" Karl yelled.

"So skip?" Corpse asked.

Everyone agreed and the voting was skipped.

The next round, I spent with Ethan. He was pretending to be mad at me because Sean said Karl was my best friend.

"What happened to Blue Boi Buddies, huh?!" He exclaimed.

"Neither of our hair is even blue anymore!" You argued back.

You were in reactor with him when Corpse and Poki walked in. He hit the lights and you took it as a sign to double kill. He killed Poki, you killed Ethan, and the two of you made your way to electrical to help fix lights.

You and Corpse went the opposite direction of reactor after the lights were fixed, Karl going with you.

Poki's body was reported. That double kill only left you, Corpse, Sean, Karl and Bretman. You only needed two more kills.

"I still think it's Karl and (Y/n)," Sean said quickly.

"I was with (Y/n) the whole time," Corpse said, "In fact, I think it's you."

"That does make sense. Why so quick to accuse others, Sean?" You ask.

"It's not me!" He yelled.

"I actually agree with Corpse and (Y/n)," Bretman said.

"I was with you!"

We all voted for Sean, him voting for Karl. Sean was ejected.

When you load into spawn, you wait for the kill cool down and kill Bretman, saving Karl.

"Victory" appeared on your screen.

"God damn it!" Sean yelled.

"Good job, (Y/n)," Corpse said lowly.

You smiled, a slight blush on your cheeks, "You too Corpse."

"Their voices go together and they're a fuckin dream team? What have i done...," Felix sighed.

⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒

A few more games went by. Most of them you and Corpse spent together, whether you were both crewmates or if one of you was imposter.

You really enjoyed his company and you actually got along with him pretty well.

⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒

"(Y/n), before we get serious, I have one question to ask you." Corpse said as both of your characters stopped.

"What's that?" You giggled.

"Do you know Bingus?"

"Bingus? As in, our lord and savior, Bingus?"

You could hear the smile in his voice, "It's settled, you're my wife now."

This made both of you laugh and your chat go crazy.

⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒

Eventually, people had to start leaving. You said your goodbyes to everyone and left the discord call and the game.

You set stream to where it was just your face cam.

"Guys, what should we do now?"

You saw some people asking what time it was for you.

"It's 3 AM right now... I’m not tired though.” You had been streaming for a few hours; You never even noticed how late it got.

People in chat were yelling at you to go to sleep, making you chuckle.

“How about we do a quick QnA, then at 3:30 I go to bed. Deal?”

You watched as the chat filled with questions. They obviously seemed to like the idea.

“‘Who is your best friend? Karl or Ethan?’ Neither, Alex Quackity. Next question.” You answered quickly.

You laughed, “I’d like to clarify that that’s a joke, i love all my friends equally.”

You answered more questions. Some were from new viewers asking basic questions, some were about future streams and videos. 

“‘How do you feel about people shipping you and Corpse?’“ People are already shipping us?” You laughed, “I’ve said before that I’m okay with shipping, as long as the other person is too. I think it’s funny.”

You continued to read chat. “Wait, we’re trending?”

You checked Twitter and “#(your and corpse’s ship name)” was trending in the US.

You laughed as you scrolled through the tag, “Oh this is so funny.”

“Fanart already?! You guys are so talented!”

You read chat, looking for more questions. You saw people telling you that it’s 3:30.

“Okay fine, a deal’s a deal. I hope you all have, or had, a great day and I’ll see you guys later. Depending on what time it is for you, you should also get some sleep. Stay hydrated, love you!” You ended stream.

⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒

You scrolled through Twitter as you laid in bed, liking fanart and dumb memes. Also replying to a few of your friends’ tweets.

karl :) @/KarlJacobs_

@/(your username) what the honk ?

*clip of you saying Quackity was your best friend*           

You liked the tweet and replied, “karl no,,, look away,,,”

You continued scrolling, feeling your eyes get droopy. Your eyes fell closed but quickly opened when your phone vibrated. It was a DM. 

From Corpse.

You two had followed each other earlier.

Corpse: hey (y/n), just wanted to say you’re really cool and i’d love to play again with you soon 

You smiled, a light blush spreading across your cheeks, and replied.

You: i’d love to, corpse

Corpse: ok, see you soon ‘wife’

You: back at ya, ‘husband”

Corpse: :)

You: :)

[hannie-dul-set]

araw-araw [na jaemin]

(EVERY DAY)

part of “the puhon playlist” collection

SUMMARY | mahiwaga— someone or something that you’ll choose every single day no matter the circmstance. and for you, that was na jaemin. even if time decides to set you apart PAIRING | na jaemin x female! reader GENRE | childhood friends to lovers! au, college! au, romance, slow-ish burn, fluff, humor, tiny angst, biology major jaemin and art major mc HEHE WARNINGS | excessive swearing, insecurities, some sex jokes LMAO, i project a lot in this i’m sorry JSFJG WORD COUNT | 14.5k TAGLIST | @prettyjaems @lcvemark @shra-vasti @danishmiilk @probablygonnahurtsomebody @jccv @rebel-lious-alien @dalkomhanchocolateicecream @kthpurplesyou @fullsuhnshine​ @dejvns @nctzun @sweetjaemss @sehunniepot @wownajaemin @emoshishi @holywaterbetch @ukiyoneo @injunified @huangxx​ @jaehyunnie3​ @nct-writers​ @czennienet​ @neowritingsnet​ @kpopscape​

a/n: HERE IT IS.... MY PRIDE AND JOY JHSFJSD gahh okay i’m gonna keep my rambling to a minimum but this fic is very close and very dear to my heart and if it isn’t obvious that i’m in love with jaemin then this fic will make it obvious LMAO

also do yourself a favor and listen to ben&ben’s araw-araw on loop while reading this!! adds to the ~vibe~ hehe

Five-thirty-seven in the morning, grey clouds stretching throughout the sky as you peeked outside the window, falling right above oceans and buildings and people that you couldn’t even see. You sighed as you sank deeper into your chair, closing your eyes and adjusting your earbuds to clear your thoughts that were brought about by your sudden move.

You felt a nudge from beside you, coming from your mother (your dad was long knocked out since earlier), and so you politely pulled the earbuds away. “Excited to come back to Korea?” she asked. You simply responded with a smile and hum.

It wasn’t like you didn’t like the idea of returning— it was the prospect that it did not even feel like you were returning in the first place. Indifference was what you felt. After moving to Los Angeles when you were twelve because of your father’s job, you had to say goodbye to all your friends living in your hometown, all the traditions and customs that you were used to, and all the memories that you have built up in order to get used to a new environment. Seven years later when you thought you were just about to fit in with the west, your father comes out with the news of going back to Seoul again.

So it was difficult to manage a full smile.

You had a thought as you looked down through the window, recognizing a few of the landmarks that stood out: how strange it was to have somewhere that used to be home feel so foreign.

Just as you were about to put in your earbuds back in, your mother suddenly brightened, looking at you with a large smile on her face, eliciting your curious gaze.

“Oh! Do you still remember your old friend Jaemin?”

A smile tugged at your lips. How could you forget him?

Na Jaemin. Nana. Jaems. Your childhood best friend for six years until you were forcibly shipped all the way to LA. You still remembered how hesitant you were to tell him that you were moving because you didn’t want him to cry— only to have you crying and refusing to let go of him until your parent's pried you off of him at the airport. He assured you while wiping away your tears that you’d still get to see him one day.

Maybe that day would actually be one of these days.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, fiddling with the drawstrings of your jacket. “Why? I haven’t been in contact with him for years now.”

“His mom and I talked the other day and I told her that we’re moving back! And just earlier, she told me that Jaemin volunteered to pick us up from the airport so we won’t have to take a cab. Isn’t that great? You’d get to be reunited with your old friend again.”

“Ah,” you paused for a moment, in thought, just before pressing your lips together into a tight smile. “Yeah, it would be nice to see him again.”

That was what you said, but even until you left the plane, lugging your baggage across the cold floors of the airport with your music at full volume to drown out the noise, you were actually rather conflicted about meeting him again. A lot could happen within seven years, and therefore there was no assurance that things would still be the same. You weren’t sure if he’d still be the same sweet boy that was determined to fight the park swings after you fell and cried, if he’d still be the same kid that stopped talking to you for three days because you tricked him into eating a strawberry flavored lollipop. Maybe he’d still be, maybe he wouldn’t, but it was exactly that uncertainty that made you feel uneasy.

Still, there was still a hint of excitement, a string that tugged your heart away from all the uneasiness, just enough to bring a smile to your face at the thought of seeing him again.

“Y/N, let’s go?”

Your father called out to you and you didn’t even realize that you have actually stopped walking amidst your musings.

“Oh, yeah I—” you stumbled in between the ever moving airport crowd, looking down to see your shoelace had become undone, and so you let go of your suitcase. “You two go ahead, I’ll catch up in a sec!”

You ducked down, right beside the large, grey case to fix it, lips pursed in concentration. People passed by without minding you too much, but at one instance, just as you had finished retying your shoelace, your suitcase moved away from you with a shadow looming from above. Panic struck, and so you jolted up, instincts forcing your hand to move, quickly grabbing the handle. There was another hand resting on it. Your eyes moved up to meet with the culprit's.

Weirdly enough, he was just as shocked as you are.

Even weirder— he looked way, way too attractive to be a thief. Or maybe that was the modus these days? Still, you harshly dragged back the suitcase, ripping it away from his grasp with a glare. “What the fuck—”

At that moment, you recalled your mother’s words. Jaemin volunteered to pick us up from the airport. This guy looked a little too much like your old friend from your old neighborhood.

It felt like you were looking into the exact same large, dark eyes that used to be always accompanied by a pretty smile, now matched by a mouth hanging slightly agape from surprise. He even had the same dark hair that always messily fell over his eyes. There was a moment of pause in between the rush of bodies, the both of you in a frozen trance staring at each other until you had finally realized that motherfucker— this was Na Jaemin.

When did he get so hot?

“I—”

He flashed you a smile. The same damned smile. It brought you to the conclusion that seven years really didn’t do anything except make him far too attractive for his own good. All of a sudden you felt self-conscious about your own appearance as you gawked at him. God really liked to play favorites, huh?

You could see him say something, his lips moving just enough to represent a few words, but it was muffled thanks to the blaring music. Your confusion reflected clearly on your face contorting, and Jaemin only shook his head and laughed before reaching his hands to your face, bringing you to a momentary halt of haywire because what the actual fuck was he doing.

“You shouldn’t listen to music too loudly in public,” he said, pulling your earbuds out of your ears and gingerly placing them into your open palms with a smile. Holy fuck, his voice got so deep. “I’ve been calling out to you since earlier, but you couldn’t hear. Let’s go, your parents are waiting.”

Before you could even try to recollect yourself from the sudden crashing of events, Jaemin took your suitcase in your stead, leading you to his car.

If you still weren’t sure whether or not this was Na Jaemin from your past, you were now because although a bit watered down, he was just as excessively weird and sweet as he was ages ago. You found yourself feeling stupid for even doubting it in the first place. Of course, he was still the same; he even chirps your name in the same way as he always did before.

“There we go,” with a huff, the trunk came to a close. He threw your suitcase in there after seeing your mini struggle episode with far too little effort for your peace of mind. “You should just ask me next time. Okay, Y/N?”

“Thanks,” you gave him a small nod, flustered when he pinched your left cheek while making a questionable noise, and he opened the car door for you to enter.

Maybe it was you that had changed.

You were fairly quiet throughout the car ride while your parents and Jaemin decided to catch up after everything, only listening and giving your reactions whenever needed. You weren’t a morning person and your jetlag wasn’t doing you of any help either.

“You’re in your third year, right Jaemin?” your father asked, sitting at the front seat as your mother and you sat behind.

“Yep, yep,” he happily replied.

“Time really does fly fast, doesn’t it?” your mother joined in. “What uni do you go to, Jaemin?”

“Ah,” he sounded, eyes still directed on the road. “NCT U. It’s the closest at home, and I didn’t really wanna move out.”

“Oh, what a coincidence! Y/N isn’t that where you’re planning on going, too?”

“Really?” you could see Jaemin’s eyes brighten from the mirrors. “Y/N, do you want me to help you with your requirements? Have you enrolled already? I can give you a tour if you want!”

He’s really the same. You thought, smiling. “It’s fine, Jaemin. I already enrolled and took care of everything online.”

“But I should still tour you, though!” he retorted, the pout and whine evident in his voice. “The campus is really big so you might get lost. Ah, but aren’t universities in the States much bigger? I can also introduce you to some of my friends if you like.”

Jaemin went on for a while, telling your parents not to worry and promising that he’d take care of you throughout your college life here in Korea despite your protests that you could very much take care of your own self. Eventually, your mother asked about his major, and his animated expressions dimmed down into a slight bashfulness after answering that he was taking biology. You joined the conversation upon hearing that. “You said back then that you wanted to be a surgeon, right?”

With a shy smile, he nodded, and at that moment you felt a rush of awe for your childhood friend. Your parents seemed to have reacted the same way seeing as he was growing a little more embarrassed. It was amazing how he held on to the same dream he held since he was a kid— the amount of passion and dedication he must have for it. You on the other hand—

“What about you, Y/N?”

You jumped at the sudden subject switch. “Oh, I’m—” a pause in your statement. “I’m… taking an arts course.”

“Wow! As expected, Y/N is as cool as always,” he doted, which caused you to flush.

“It’s— it’s not really that amazing, it’s just the only thing I’m kinda good at so—”

“No, no, no. Y/N, you shouldn’t say that,” he scolded, clicking his tongue while his hands remained on the wheel. Your mother was beside you yet he was the one doing the mom nagging. “Who is that again? Bob Ross? Leonardo DiCaprio? You’re gonna be much much much better than them someday, I just know it! I have something called Nana vision, you know.”

You stifled a quiet laugh, not having the heart to correct him that it was not DiCaprio. “Does your Nana vision also see that we’re already almost at the complex?”

“Oh!”

At your words, Jaemin’s attention was now a hundred percent back on driving, profusely apologizing for getting distracted. You could see his ears slightly reddening from your seat which lasted until the end of the drive. Jaemin helped your family carry everything to your apartment on the eighth floor, even volunteering to help you unpack. Your mother firmly declined, however, insisting him to take a rest after all his help, but she did invite him and his parents over for dinner tomorrow. A little reunion of sorts.

“Six in the evening, right?”

“Yes. You should head back home now, Jaemin. Thank you for everything.”

He shot a bright smile before readying to march outside. “We’ll be here by five!”

She laughed at him, shaking her head, and proceeded to look for you inside the mess of the living room. You were about to disappear inside your room, luggage in hand to unpack, but she quickly dragged you back by the ear. “Go see him out the door!” she whisper-yelled, and so you did. Fortunately, he was stopped by your father before he got to leave, so you took this opportunity to smoothly stride beside him as he slipped past the door when he said goodbye. The door clicked to a close. He raised a brow at you.

“Mother’s orders,” you answered.

“So you wouldn’t have gone out if she didn’t tell you to?” he huffed, pouting. “And I was really happy to see you, too. I think I might have to take that back.”

You rolled your eyes at him, laughing, and eventually you made it to the end of the hallway. “Too late. You can’t take back your happiness. It’s good to see you again, Jaemin.”

The both of you stopped right in front of the elevator, and you waited for him to depart, but he didn’t. He had his arms crossed over his chest, accompanied by an expression on his face that you couldn’t quite tell if it was hurt, disappointment, or offense. Probably all three. Definitely all three.

“What? are you putting up a wall between us? Don’t I mean anything to you anymore?” he groused, nose scrunching. “What happened to Jaems? Nana? Y/N, you’re seriously hurting me over here.”

Laughing at the way he was sticking his frown right into your face to prove his point, you playfully shoved him off, pushing him into the elevator after all of his complaints even though he was the one moving his feet, anyway. You missed him, that much you could conclude, therefore you decided to stop his whining just before the elevator doors came to a close.

“See you tomorrow, Nana.”

You grinned, not missing the way his eyes lit up in between the small gap. You really did miss him, and you were lucky enough to have him as a small memory to remind you that this place was indeed home.

Maybe it wasn’t just Jaemin that you had missed. The entire family was just a smack in the face of early childhood nostalgia that you nearly cried (thank god you didn’t) when Mrs. Na buried you into a bone crushing hug the moment she saw you when you opened the door. You were really happy to be back— even when you weren’t exactly sure before.

“Mom, I think you’re suffocating, Y/N,” Jaemin pointed out as he left his shoes in front of your doorstep, walking inside with his father following behind him.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just couldn’t believe that this is you!” she coddled, and somewhere in between Jaemin found himself beside you. “I think I have pictures of you two when you were younger, hold on—”

Mrs. Na was pushed forward by her husband as she dug through her phone for a decade old Facebook posts of you and Jaemin (you hoped she wouldn’t remember you had an entire album). The older man ruffled your hair as he passed by with a fond smile, disappearing into the dining table where your parents were preparing and leaving you and Jaemin behind.

He was looking at you. Questionably so.

“What?”

“It’s not fair,” he whined. “I didn’t get to hug you yesterday.”

Oh my god, you shook your head, grabbing the sleeve of his mint jacket and leading him to where your parents were to help. “You’ll have more opportunities, you loser. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

Jaemin was speechless for a moment as he let you drag him along, but a happy smile broke through and he matched your steps halfway.

“Yeah,” he agreed. You weren’t going anywhere.

Dinner followed the usual sequence of events: reminiscing about the past, asking both parties what they have been up to, and of course talks about the future. During the meal, Jaemin asked when your classes were starting (next week), and he proposed his promised tour to be held this Tuesday— two days from now— because he didn’t have a lot of classes that day. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, neither did your parents, so you ended up agreeing.

Unfortunately for you, your mother pulled out the ancient photo album of the past right after dinner, and the stark contrast between yours and Jaemin’s reactions were also album worthy. By the end of it, you were sure that smoke was emitting from your ears because your good friend had an affinity with screaming over how cute you were, even going as far as stealing one of your baby pictures right before they decided to make their leave.

“Ah, ah,” he pulled the photo away the moment he sensed your attempt of theft. You two were standing right in front of the open door, his parents already having left ahead. “I’m keeping this. You look so cute here.”

“How am I so sure you won’t blackmail me with that!”

An offended gasp. “I would never,” he took out his phone, inserting your picture inside his colored phone case with you watching his every move. “It’s for me to see only, so you don’t need to worry.”

You looked at him. Then to the phone that he was holding up with a confident smile. You let out a sigh.

“Fine,” you begrudgingly relented, and he waddled over to you with a big smile on his face to envelop you into a hug. He smells nice, you thought, reciprocating the embrace. Wait, isn’t this my perfume? That would explain what he was doing inside your room earlier. You could only sigh inwardly let him keep on hugging you. He was whining about it earlier, after all.

It lasted long, maybe a bit too long because his dad came back to fetch him.

“Mhm, you can trust me with anything, Y/N,” Jaemin mumbled before finally pulling away, his hands still resting on your shoulders as he did. “Anyway, before I go— should we exchange phone numbers?”

Tuesday came by, and you were met with two realizations. Both of which made you feel very very small in comparison.

One, NCT U was really freaking big.

Two, Na Jaemin was really freaking popular.

Granted, he had only shown you around the STEM department, but with every turn that you took and every hallway that you passed through, there was least one person that stopped by to say hi to him. Even some of the teachers were close with him. You should have expected it considering he was literally nice, smart, handsome, and everything you could ever ask for, but it still made him feel just a tiny bit out of reach.

“Are you feeling tired?” he asked, breaking away from a conversation with a senior. He put a hand over your shoulder with concern that reflected in his eyes. “We can take a break around the benches if you want.”

“Yeah, sure. After you—”

“I’ll talk to you later, hyung. See you around.”

Jaemin waved off his older friend, Yuta, you had overheard, and proceeded to lead you to the aforementioned area on the ground floor before stopping by a vending machine to get some drinks. You pressed your lips together, feet shuffling as you waited behind him, and then you finally decided to speak. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Do what?” he asked, slotting in a few coins into the machine.

“You— you with your friend,” you fumbled, trying your best to speak your mind, but how were you supposed to say ‘cut your conversation short with your friend because of me’ without seeming like a total headass? You could have waited until they were finished.

With a soft smile, he passed a canned, carbonated drink into your hands— lemon, you read— and took one for himself. He didn’t answer your incomprehensible question and decided to walk across the field leading to a bench area, but you were sure he got what you were trying to say. He simply chose not to answer. Or did he? Hell, you didn’t even know anymore. Annoyed, you decided to gulp down the drink in one go to distract yourself, even when the bubbles stung your throat. Jaemin stared at you in horror.

“Were you that thirsty? You should have told—”

“Na Jaemin!”

In sync, your heads snapped towards the direction of the ear-ripping screech, which was quite coincidentally where you two were headed. There were two boys sitting on a bench, one more on the table with a guitar. You assumed that it was one of them that screamed out your friend’s name— probably the one that was making eye contact with him before dramatically turning away with a butchered sob.

“Na Jaemin! Traitor of the brotherhood! I remember when he would still come running the moment I call his name but now— forgotten for dust! He doesn’t care about us anymore, Renjun. He even has a new—”

“What are you on about this time, Haechan?”

Haechan’s evidently fake sobbing stopped, pushing away the boy that he had just been crying into moments prior. “Oh you’re here,” he deadpanned.

It was almost horrific how three pairs of eyes immediately zeroed in on you as you meekly hid behind Jaemin, causing the hairs at the back of your neck to stand as if you were about to die in a fucking horror movie. You could tell from that alone that despite having many friends, these guys were probably his closest— whether it was better or worse, you had no idea. All of a sudden you were dawned with the intimidating task of trying to get them to like you, which was already way too out of reach because the one with the guitar was practically ripping you to shreds with his eyes alone.

“Please stop trying to scare, Y/N. Jeno, you might actually make her cry, stop that.”

“Whoops,” Jeno stopped his death staring. “Hyuck initiated it.”

“Actually it was Renjun, but whatever,” before Renjun could even bite back after being falsely accused, Haechan had already blocked him off and had directed his attention towards you, legs crossed and a critical gaze. “Fuck formalities. Y/N, right? Who are you and why are you trying to steal—”

“Alright, no more scare tactics. Y/N, there are my friends, Jeno, Haechan— or Donghyuck, whichever you prefer, he doesn’t mind— and Renjun. They’re just trying to mess with you, don’t worry. Friends, this Y/N L/N, my childhood friend for like four, five years before she left Korea and moved to LA.”

The term childhood friend lit a spark within the three boys, but before they could do or say anything dangerous that would jeopardize your relationship, Jaemin the ever popular boy was called out by a group of girls. He excused himself to leave for a moment, but not before apologizing to you a million times over (“If you’re really sorry,” Renjun chided before he ran off. “Treat us and Miss Y/N to Kun’s, yeah?”). He agreed without even hearing him properly, and now you were left with his three friends that felt more like three sharks that circled around you. They were fucking out for blood.

“So,” the moment Jaemin disappeared from the parameter, Haechan pulled you to the bench in between him and Renjun with a devilish grin. “Childhood friend, huh?”

Your eyes snapped over to Renjun who was on your right to ask for a way out of this, but the guy was busy filming the entire thing on his phone. Why did Jaemin leave you behind? You had no chance of escaping. Haechan locked you down by swinging his arm around your neck just as you were about to stand. He signalled at his friend who was sitting on the table. “Jeno, drop the beat.”

There was a moment of miscommunication in between because instead of dropping the beat like Haechan asked, Jeno started strumming a sickeningly sweet tune on his guitar. Or maybe that was what he intended. Either way, Haechan was flexible enough to go along with it.

“You know what they say about childhood friends,” another strum. Haechan sang. Was this a fucking oration? “You either end up forgetting each other, hating each other, or you end up toge—”

“That is not—”

“Hush!” he silenced. Renjun was losing it at the side. So was Jeno, because the guitar tune was long replaced by fits of strangled laughter. “It is, clueless Y/N. It is. How many childhood friends have you met that stayed as childhood friends? None, I assume. I’m never wrong, you see.”

“Weren’t you and Mark childhood friends, too—”

“Shut the fuck up, Huang. This isn’t about me. Y/N, listen.”

Grabbing your shoulders, Haechan pulled you away from Renjun, the sudden movement nearly giving you a whiplash.

“From my expert calculations, you and Jaemin are undeniably going down route three, but the both of you are moving at an agonizingly slow pace, correct?” you stared at him, wide eyed, and he was staring right back. “Correct! Now, in order to speed things up a bit, all you have to do is follow Hyuck’s five step guide on How To Trap Your Childhood Friend Into—”

“Isn’t this the same guide that ruined your—”

“I said shut the fuck up!”

The two ended up quarrelling and you ended up being forgotten. You weren’t sure whether to be thankful or be offended. Jeno shot you a look of remorse on behalf of his friends, bringing you to the conclusion that this must have been a normal occurrence. Your eyes shot towards the sky, clouds covering the sun just enough so you wouldn’t be blinded, ears picking up the argument occuring that went back and forth on both of your sides. They’re a lively bunch, you breathed out, a subtle smile on your face.

Eventually Jaemin showed his face again, jogging over to your group and you greeted him with a beaming grin. “You guys seem to be getting along,” he said the moment he stopped before you.

“Oh, Romeo returns,” Renjun decided to stop picking a fight with Haechan. “Where’d you get dragged off to this time?”

There was silence, all four sets of eyes heavily sparked with curiosity as you waited for Jaemin’s response, but the boy was rather hesitant. “Well—” he fumbled, a faint baby pink blush powdering his cheeks. Sheepish, he continued. “Someone confessed to me.”

The first person that reacted was Jeno, who released a loud snort and scooted a little more forward. “Shouldn’t you be used to it by now?” Jaemin indignantly refuted as he continued to be teased by the other two boys, the remaining uncharacteristically not joining in. At that very moment you could feel Haechan looking at you, a gaze that you couldn’t quite put a finger on but it was enough to shoot him a glare back.

“Who was it? Is she pretty?” you chose to ignore the annoying male beside you and decide to focus all of your interest and attention on Jaemin instead.

“Jiah,” he mindlessly answered, pushing Haechan to the side so he could sit next to you. “From nursing? I think?”

“Dude,” you turned your head to Renjun. “Kang Jiah? Holy shit, that’s crazy.”

Noticing the lost look in your eyes, Renjun proceeded to explain that not only was the alluded Kang Jiah arguably the prettiest in her department, she was at the top of her class too. You didn’t understand which part about that was crazy because for you, that was exactly the kind of person that Jaemin was destined to end up with. You wouldn’t be surprised if they do become a thing— well, there was only one way to find the answer to that.

“Well, what did you say? You said yes right?” you asked him, looking forward to his answer.

“Oh,” he shrugged. “I turned her down.”

What?

“Of course,” Renjun scoffed, shaking head with his arms crossed. “Only you would turn someone like Jiah down. At this rate you’ll end up dying an old hermit.”

“You have a crush on her or something?”

“Pff— no? I just think she’s pretty,”

“You’re not fooling anyone, dumbass. Come over here, I’m gonna squeeze it out of you—”

While the two quarrelled again in the middle of the field with Jeno being the one filming this time, you remained frozen in your seat, somewhat surprised. Huh, you blinked, wanting to ask him why he turned her down but frankly it was none of your business. You turned your head to face him. “Wow, I didn’t expect you to turn into such a heartbreaker, Jaems.”

He clicked his tongue, face scrunched into a bitter look of disapproval as reached out to mess up your hair. “Stop thinking weird thoughts,” he scolded. “Instead, why don’t I finally take you to the art building?”

Your eyes immediately lit up after the mention, and he stifled a laugh at your reaction, patting your head once more before sneaking off without the other three’s knowledge.

Jaemin’s tour of the whole campus actually deemed to be pretty useful because after three whole weeks of going to NCT U, you’d only gotten lost seven times— pretty remarkable if you do say so yourself. Within those three weeks, you had actually expected that your old childhood friend would leave you off on your own once you got used to everything, but no. He tried his best to meet you in between classes even though your buildings were nowhere near each other, and the times when he couldn’t, he’d never failed to call or text you. “I promised your parents!” he reasoned, but you weren’t sure if that promise included asking you if you’ve eaten breakfast every morning.

“Breakfast?”

You repeated into the phone as you and your recently made friend Soorim walked to your Visual Studies class. You’d met her during your first week and the both of you immediately hit off. It was nice to have someone else other than Jaemin and his friends, but of course you appreciated their company, too.

“I, uh, actually haven’t eaten— no wait! Before you nag me, I have a valid excuse, okay!” Soorim gave you a sidelong glance, curious and suspicious over your loud phone call so she tried to lean her ear closer to the device but you quickly evaded without even looking at her. “Listen, I was in a hurry to school! I actually planned on grabbing a bite on the way but I… forgot my wallet because again, I was in a hurry and— no, shut up, you don’t have the right to scold me for this, too! You literally left your report at home yesterday and I had to walk all the way back to save your butt so you’re no better, Mr. Na.”

Without even realizing, you were already in front of the doors to your classroom, and so you hurried a goodbye to Jaemin just before you and Soorim took your seats at the near back.

“Alright, I’m in the classroom now. See you later. Yes, I’ll eat after, yes, I promise to double check my wallet from now on. Bye.”

The moment you settled on your seat, setting your phone and backpack aside, Soorim swiveled her chair to face you, legs crossed, hands resting with poise on her thigh, and she batted her eyelashes expectantly. You ignored her, twisting open your water bottle because it was the only thing you had that could somewhat silence your crying stomach.

“So,” she started anyway. The bottle opening was hovering over your lips. You narrowed your eyes at her. What the fuck was she doing. “When are you introducing me to your boyfriend?”

You choked while drinking.

“Boy— what,” with a grimace, you ripped away the bottle from your face, slamming it down on the table. You looked at your friend in disgust. “If I had one I wouldn’t be hanging out with you.”

Soorim rolled her eyes, sneering at you. She held up her hand to the side of her face, all fingers closed except for her pinky and her thumb, shaking it a little. You sighed.

“He’s a friend.”

“The same friend that kept on calling you during our night out because he was worried?”

“Yes, well,” your sweat dropped. “He’s just like that, you know?”

“Sure,” she scrunched her nose, haphazardly throwing her giant notebook on the table. There was a brief moment of quiet that overtook because Soorim decided to stop egging on you as you waited for your professor, but that quiet only lasted for a while. She nudged you, and you looked up from your desk. “Oh, look who's coming.”

Huang Renjun sauntered in with an expression not fitting for a “good morning” greeting, so you chose to remain silent and simply stare at him in judgment as he settled right before you and Soorim, plastic bag in hand and binder in the other. What shat in his coffee this early in the morning?

“This is all your fault,” with a grunt, he dropped the bag filled with all sorts of food and snacks right in front of you, immediately pulling out a chair and sitting his ass onto it after. “My plans of turning up late are ruined because of you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, picking out a small container of strawberry milk from the bunch. How was this your fault? Furthermore, what exactly was all of this?

“Ooh, you making moves on Y/N, Huang?” Soorim, on the other hand, was digging into the rest of the goods, stealing a bun filled with red bean paste with a happy smile.

“Ew, as if.”

Renjun fake gagged, earning a look of offense from you which he completely ignored and disregarded. He took a box of pepero from the pile, shooting you a smug look before adding.

“It’s from Nana.”

(“You’re at school already? It’s very early. You’ve eaten breakfast, right?”

At a convenience store nearby the school, Jaemin and Renjun decided to eat their first meal there. Though, it appeared that the latter was the only one doing all the eating because his friend seemed to be far too preoccupied with his conversation on the phone to even notice that he took some of his sushi right in front of his face. Renjun silently chewed as he watched the colors on his friend’s face change at each sentence.

“Aish, it’s the most important meal of the day for a reason. How many times do I have to tell you—”

Another piece of sushi stolen. He wondered how far he could get away with it.

“Y/N, I—”

Jaemin let out a long sigh, causing Renjun to drop the food back onto the plate, retracting his chopsticks back to his own food— a bowl of ramen noodles that he had still yet to finish. He discreetly slurped it down as if he hadn’t been stealing since earlier. He was sure that Jaemin noticed though, but knowing his friend, he probably just let him. Renjun noticed the small pout on Jaemin, eliciting his curiosity.

“Okay,” he’s whining, Renjun concluded. “See you later.”

The moment Jaemin shut off his phone, Renjun expected him to say something, to air out why the fuck he was being all that this early in the morning, maybe even tell him what the call was about like a friend would, but no. Instead, Jaemin promptly stood up from his seat, disappeared into the limited selection of isles in the store, basket in hand, and started throwing a mountain full of food with a scrunched out, concentrated expression. Renjun had his mouth hanging open, brows knitted together, and wondering what in the ever loving fuck was going on with his friend as he stared at him pay for everything at the counter.

He sat back, eyeing Jaemin as he returned in front of him, who placed the full bag on top of the table as he took a seat.

“The hell?” a particular carton caught Renjun’s eye, and he immediately fished for it in primal disbelief. “Strawberry milk? You literally hate strawberries and milk separately yet you’re buying them combined? Are you sick?”

Jaemin did not answer. In fact, he dismissed the question completely with a smile, deciding to ask one of his own.

“It’s almost time for your first class, right? Visual Studies?”

At that point it hit him— the call, the food, the stupid behavior of his friend. It was completely obvious.

“Oh,” Renjun dropped the drink back onto the table. “Oh my god, you’re so fucking whipped.”)

“Shut up.”

After hearing Renjun’s story, you couldn’t look at all the multicolored snacks laid in front of you without heating up a million degrees anymore. It was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

“You’re just messing with me, shut up.”

Renjun scoffed. “Why would I even make up something so stupid? C’mon, Y/N. You know I’m way better than that.”

You couldn’t argue that this wasn’t something Jaemin would do. No, because this was exactly something sickly sweet Jaemin would do and your sad attempt of denial was simply because your heart might actually run away if you admit it to yourself. And as if to give you more assurance or to fluster you even further, your phone vibrated, causing you to jump in your seat. Before either of the two’s nosiness could take a peek, you quickly snatched your phone, leaning your chair all the way back to read the message.

[<nana3: never skip breakfast okok?!? u don’t have your wallet right? wait for me in front of the bio building later. let’s eat lunch together 🥰💚]

Dear lord Jesus, have mercy on your soul. Renjun took your squeak as a sign of victory.

“Wait a minute,” Soorim looked at you wide in a sudden moment of epiphany. “Nana as in Na Jaemin? The fucking Na Jaemin? Is he the friend you’ve been mentioning? The guy you were calling and bought all this? Holy fuck, Y/N—!”

Your body moved before you could think and you thanked god that your professor wasn’t here yet because you would have caught the entire class’ attention when you leaped forward to slap your hands over Soorim’s mouth.

Renjun’s excessive giggling brought you back to reality, pulling your hands off of her with a gasp and an apology. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry.”

“What the fuck, why did you do that?”

“I don’t know, it felt like you were about to say something stupid!”

She gave a look, half done and half amazed at your willpower. You’d never been this fired up for anything. “Is it stupid to say that one of the hottest guys on campus is literally—”

“Stupid!” another slap on her mouth. Renjun was about to fall off his chair laughing. “You were going to say something stupid. Please don’t even think about finishing that.”

Lucky for you, your professor had finally come in. Unlucky for you, Soorim shot you the signature dirty stare which meant that you wouldn’t be let off that easily. How fun.

Class went on quiet and boring as usual— you’d never been one for technicalities, preferring heading straight into the creative process with nothing but inspiration coursing through your veins, so your professor’s voice was nothing but white noise running in the background as you busied yourself with your thoughts. Your eyes flickered to the floor, cheek resting on your palm, and you gazed down to the plastic back beside your backpack. Twirling your pencil between your fingers, you pulled out a scrap piece of paper, every move that you made triggered by nothing except the abstract flow of your mind.

There was only one person you were thinking of. The same person living inside your head the moment you stepped foot back into Korea, the same person that made you feel as if you were someone special out of all the eight billion people in the world, the same person that bought you three persons worth of food because he didn’t want you skipping breakfast, the same person that felt more like a dream than anything.

Mindlessly, you started sketching the face of your childhood friend, filling in all the details of his face that you could see whenever you closed your eyes, up until the bell rang that signalled the end of the class.

“Y/N! Your father and I are leaving, now!”

“There’s extra money on top of the fridge if you want to eat out.”

Saturday evening. Your parents decided to go out on a well-deserved date that night, leaving you alone inside your apartment. You saw them out the door, locking it up once they left, and as you pressed your back against the white washed wooden door, your eyes darted over to the clock hanging on your living room wall. Six-twenty-three. There were still a few hours until closing.

An art exhibition was to be held on the same evening, and this was the last day that the actual artist was going to be there. Free and you got to meet world renowned artist Ten Lee? You’d be insane not to go. Though, as you made your way into your room to change out of your raggedy old sweatpants and Jaemin’s (stolen) mint hoodie, you’d come to a realization that maybe the venue was too far for you to just walk. Your parents were using the car and it wasn’t like you could drive anyway. You could commute, but there was a better idea in your system.

Opening your phone, a smile involuntarily tugged at the corners of your mouth as you pressed the contact number that seemed to have never left your recents.

[you: nana! are you free rn? there’s an art exhibition out of town! i need a ride :p and you need some time off your studies too bcs i noticed youve been more tired than usual so good idea i think yes hehe]

As usual, he took no more than a minute to reply. But after lighting up when you saw his name flash on your screen, you bit down your bottom lip to prevent a frown from forming.

[<nana3: TT i’m attending a seminar for an org rn y/nie huhu i don’t know what time it’s ending so i’m not sure if i can make it 😫😭]

[you: it’s okay!! jhfdj sorry for disturbing u!! please listen well to the speaker hehe and tell me how it went]

[<nana3: i’m so sorry]

It was difficult to pinpoint how you exactly felt.

You chewed the inside of your mouth, staring at the phone screen. He shouldn’t be apologizing.

After shutting your closet door down to a close, you fell face down onto your bed, your phone thrown over to the side. Yes, you were disappointed, but it wasn’t what weighed you down; the actual reason feeling like a disgusting, throbbing feeling writhing underneath your skin after being suppressed for awhile now. It never left your system the moment you'd arrived, the moment he showed you what his life was like, making you realize the stark difference between you and him.

You couldn’t care less about the exhibition now. In fact, fuck that entire plan entirely. As you were loitering, fooling around, planning on going to pointless events that wouldn’t be of benefit to your future, Jaemin was there, making connections and decisions and taking a step further into life.

It made you wonder what exactly had you been doing these past seven years— what haven’t you been doing, what you should be doing. You were ashamed to admit it, but it plagued the back of your mind since you got here.

Jaemin was far too out of reach.

It made the wrench in your gut worse whenever he made an effort to not make you feel that way. He’d always include you whenever he’d be with his other friends, always made sure that you didn’t feel left out since you came here, whether it be by his little cute texts even though you were in the same room just to make you smile, or by giving you all of his attention despite the many people vying for his. God, you didn’t deserve him. You didn’t deserve to like him.

What did you deserve?

Just then, there was a knock on your front door, followed by a buzz from your phone.

[<nana3: open the door!]

And you did, scrambling out of your bed and nearly tripping over your feet as you ran just to swing it open. Jaemin stood before you with his hair tousled by the wind, a purple and orange varsity jacket covering his frame. He greeted you with brightened eyes.

“I thought you had—”

“I left early,” he smiled at you, walking inside. “Why aren’t you dressed yet? Hurry, I’ll wait here.”

You blinked at him as he passed you by to sit on your couch, unable to understand what led him to such a decision, staring as he stretched his arms over his head with a yaw. He shouldn’t have come here. “Jaemin, it’s just an exhibition, it’s not as important as your seminar.”

He raised a brow at you, stealing a pillow into his lap. “But you want to go, right?”

“Well…” you did want to go, even after your small episode earlier. “Yeah, but—”

“Then it’s more important.”

He smiled at you. You cursed at yourself for letting your heart dither.

“Besides, you actually think I’d let you go out alone this late at night?” Jaemin stood up from the sofa, resting his hand on top of your head with an affectionate gaze. “You should go change. Or maybe not. You look good in my clothes, anyway.”

It was cold outside, so Jaemin made sure that you were wearing enough layers so that you won’t get sick, forcing you back inside when he deemed that you weren’t covered enough.

“Jaem, I’m fucking sweating.”

You huffed as you lugged yourself to the front seat, but your padded winter coat was preventing you from making a smooth landing inside.

“Sweating is a good sign! That means you’re healthy,” noticing your struggle, Jaemin relented to leaving the coat at the back of the car, but keeping it there just in case. He got in after you, starting the car and turning on the radio for some background noise. “Reconnaissance Gallery Right? What’s the name of the show?”

“Mono,” you replied. “It’s by Ten Lee.”

“Oh! I remember you talking about him once,” he exclaimed. “We should hurry then.”

It was a generally quiet car ride, but the silence was welcomed. After asking where you wanted to eat dinner once you were done with the exhibit, Jaemin didn’t talk anymore. Your eyes followed the moving lights that were lit up all around the night scene, and from time to time they flickered over to admire the boy beside you who seemed to be far too engrossed with his driving. An unconscious smile grew, warmth fluttering inside. You were lucky enough to meet him again in this lifetime, even after being set apart for so long.

“Something wrong?”

He asked without looking. He must have noticed you staring.

“No,” you replied with a soft voice. “Just remembered how baby-faced you were back then.”

With a laugh, he shook his head, one hand stretched out to the steering wheel. “You’re one to talk. Alright, I think we’re here.”

You felt a rush the moment you went past the glass doors, met by a relatively large interior with walls painted either black or white and lined with numerous paintings that contrasted the wall they were hung on. With a large grin, you quickly tugged Jaemin’s arm deeper into the venue, your footsteps making hollow echoes inside the place. He was taken aback by your sudden action, heart racing when he felt your grip on him, never slowing down even when you stopped in front of one of the larger works in the exhibit. “Oh my gosh, I love this painting— wait let me take a picture.”

As you fumbled with your phone, Jaemin couldn’t help but stare at you as if you were a part of the exhibit itself. There were more people inside, yet he didn’t even notice them; paintings as pretty as the night sky, yet it was you that he couldn’t take his eyes off of. Your phone camera captured it with an audible click, and he took it as a signal to scramble and take his out too.

Click!

“The painting’s really pretty, right?”

He nodded at you. “Yeah,” it wasn’t the painting that he wanted to capture. He dug his phone back into his pocket after sneaking a brief glance at your excited grin behind the screen. It wasn’t every day that you smiled like this since you were usually reserved. He didn’t want to miss saving a memory. “You wanna walk around more?”

At his suggestion, you and Jaemin decided to move deeper into the exhibit. You knew he wasn’t that knowledgeable about art, but he still listened intently whenever you told him something about the strokes and composition of some of the works displayed. You hadn’t run into Ten Lee yet even after an hour of walking around and taking pictures, but you didn’t mind at all. Jaemin froze in front of a certain painting— the visage of what seemed to be a face formed together by different objects, drawn in a style similar to the rest with the black and white motif, graffiti-esque structure, and the overall whimsical and abstract feel to it. There was a smile on his face, you wondered what he was thinking about.

“One day, it’s gonna be your paintings that will be displayed here. You promise you won’t forget about me when that happens, okay?" he started, turning his attention to you. “You should also paint a portrait dedicated to me," he joked, nudging you a little.

You smiled at him. Jaemin noticed that this wasn’t your usual smile, but he chose to not say anything. “Okay,” you breathed out before looking down seconds before he could see your expression melt away. How was he thinking so highly of you when it was him who was too far to reach?

He was about to ask— he didn’t know what to ask— but he would say whatever just to erase whatever was bothering your peace of mind. But he wasn’t able to. In fact, just as he lifted a hand to rest over your shoulder as an act of comfort, your head shot up, turning to face the sudden eruption of a commotion that Jaemin had failed to notice in his worry for you.

“Holy crap,” you gasped. “Is that—”

Ten Lee, just a few feet away from you with cameras and crowd surrounding him. You wasted no time to run to him, grabbing Jaemin’s hand in a flash to drag him behind. His eyes softened upon seeing the excited bounce of your hair as you ran. At least your spirits were brought back up again.

Jaemin watched as you nervously fiddled with the hem of your jacket as you waited for an opening to talk to the famous artist, how you would stand on your toes to peek above the small crowd and stand back down again after feeling too shy. Eventually the crowd dissipated to only around four or five people. This was your chance. You looked at him Jaemin. He nudged you with his shoulder. ‘Go,’ he mouthed. You pressed your lips together before finally deciding to march up to the artist. He didn’t realize you have been holding his hands until you let go.

“A-ah, hi!”

He followed after you in case you were feeling too nervous, but he was relieved to see that Ten Lee was pretty down to earth and easy going for someone famous. He stayed a few steps behind you as he listened to the ongoing conversation.

“I can’t tell you enough how much I adore your works. Especially, Monarch! I took a picture of it earlier and it’s so much more captivating in person,” you said, watching as Ten signed your phone case. “Actually, I—I look up to you a lot as an artist. A few of my paintings were actually inspired by your style, but of course it— it would be an insult to compare.”

“You shouldn’t compare,” he scolded, adding in a little sermon about your art is yours and that it should stand alone as your own. He handed your phone back, a smile on his face. “Can I see?”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. In a flustered rush, you quickly scrolled through your gallery folders to find the specific paintings you were referring to, and Jaemin, out of curiosity, hovered over your shoulders to see as well. As you passed through your works with your friend’s mouth hanging open in awe (he wanted to gush about them, but figured this wasn’t formally appropriate), his eyes caught a glimpse of an image that you quickly swiped past— far too glaring too miss because he was sure that it looked something like his face. It was a different kind of pride that he felt when he saw that.

Ten’s eyes flickered as he saw through your paintings, something formulating within even after you hid your phone. He looked at you, grabbing your hands without any warning which caused you to squeak. “Y/N, right?” you nodded, wide eyed. “You know, I’m hosting an online gallery within the upcoming weeks. It’s for young, aspiring artists like you to be recognized at a larger scale.”

Hold on, you tried to catch on to what he was saying. Was he—

“Are you interested?”

—serious? Was he actually serious? It looked like he was because when he let go of you, a business card suddenly materialized in your hands. Holy shit.

“Think about it, okay? Just email me your portfolio and everything. Who knows, what if you get recognized and scouted after this?”

He winked at you, shooting you a thumbs up. This had to be a dream. You were still trying to process the piece of fucking paper that you were holding and now all of a sudden Ten came in between you and Jaemin, swinging his arms around your neck and giving you a pat on the back

“Anyhow, thanks to the both of you for coming to my show. And Y/N—” he looked at you with a grin. “Looking forward to your more of your works.”

Ten disappeared off with two other people, their footsteps clacking against the cold, tiled floor. You stared at the card in your hands for a few moments— Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul, it wrote— before snapping your eyes back to Jaemin who was wearing a far too large smile. “Oh my god.”

Jaemin wasted no time in drowning you into a hug, knocking the air out of your lungs when he nearly toppled you onto the ground.

“Y/N,” his voice was soft in comparison to the roughness of his actions, sweetly fluttering into your ears as he rocked you left and right with his squeezing embrace. “I’m so proud of you.”

His words nearly broke you down to tears.

“This calls for a celebration, right?” he pulled away, hand automatically falling to hold onto yours as he led you to the gallery’s exit. “My treat! I know a place nearby, we should eat an entire feast!”

“Nana, you already treated me to lunch last time, I can’t just—”

“No, no no! I’m treating you, okay? This is your achievement so I should congratulate properly.”

There was no point arguing with him when he already had his mind set, but even during your drive to a nearby barbecue place, even when you were already halfway with the meal, you kept on insisting that you’d pay him back for all of this someday. He’d only laugh it off, telling you that he doesn’t mind as long as you’re enjoying yourself. You downed a shot of soju after hearing that, hoping that it would make you forget momentarily about how fast your heart was beating.

Somehow the clock eventually struck nine, and rather than going home, the both of you took an impulsive detour to a nearby public beach. The sounds of waves crashing against the solemn quiet of the night was heard as you neared the area, bringing you to a moment of peace.

Instead of going to the sandy shore, you two decided to take a spot on the beach cliff right above the rolling water. “Be careful,” Jaemin whispered from behind as he guided you along the rocky surface, heating up from the way he was so, so close with his hands steady on your back. You two sat side by side on the cliff, underneath the veil of stars, with the ocean right in front of you.

“Are your parents okay with you staying out this late?” he cocked his head to face you in a manner that was far too cute for you to suppress a giggle.

“Jaems, they’d probably allow me to disappear off to Italy as long as you’re with me.”

The both of you broke into laughter, but it was eventually replaced by the noises of the ocean. You breathed in the salty scent of the sea, folding your knees to your chest with your arms hugging them together. For a moment your eyes flickered over to Jaemin, and a chord was strung, tugging your heart towards him, but it was impossible for it to leap out of your chest so it only rattled against your ribcage desperately just like the waves. You stared at the way his dark hair melted into the night sky, the wind brushing it away, the way he had his legs stretched out freely over the rocks while you squeezed yourself as small as you could get, and lastly, the way he flashed over to look at the exact moment that you wanted him to.

If there was such a thing as a perfect instance where the stars of the night sky aligned, it would be this.

“You know,” you started, letting your arms fall to your sides as you looked over to the distance. “I envy you sometimes.”

Jaemin was taken aback by your confession.

“I also admire you,” you pressed your lips together tightly, forming it into a smile. “A lot. I admire you a lot. To the point that it made me feel like you’re living in a completely different world from me and that I wasn’t deserving of you.”

You’d finally mustered up the courage to tell him everything you’d pent up during your first month back here— it was better than just letting it fester into something worse, even if there was a risk of completely ruining your friendship. It was better than playing pretend.

“We’re both only a year apart but it seems like you have your life all tied together while I’m still barely able to walk on my own two feet. I wouldn’t even have been able to go to the exhibit if it weren’t for you,” you crossed your legs, a mirthless laugh slipping past your lips as the wind brushed against your cheeks .“I don’t… want to seem ungrateful for everything you’ve done or make you feel bad or anything, because Jaemin—”

You turned around, looking at him.

“If I had the choice to stay back then, I would have gladly chosen to spend those seven years together with you.”

Jaemin stared at you, speechless, unblinking. He had a gut feeling that there was something bothering you all this time, but he never had thought that it would be this.

“But the feeling of seeing you again after all this time is a feeling that I wouldn’t trade for the world either,” you hummed, looking down as you traced the creases of the rocky ground with your fingers, a shaky breath slipping past you. “If only… I wasn’t just so insecure then maybe everything would be perfect.”

For a moment there was nothing— only the lulling sounds of the sea that became quieter after you laid your heart out to the ground. The next moment, Jaemin spoke up.

“I got into an accident four years ago.”

You shot up in a single instant.

Jaemin laughed a little, bringing his hand to the crown of your head in assurance. “I had a herniated disc which got worse during a dance camp. It was definitely scary, how it seemed like I was in a standstill for two years while everyone else carried on with their lives,” he continued, letting his hand drop once more right beside yours. “It’s hard to get out of that hopeless mentality. It takes small steps, but once you do, things will eventually start looking up.”

He shot you a smile, eyes twinkling under the light of the moon. You couldn’t help but put your head down after hearing everything.

“I understand how and why you’re feeling that way, don’t worry I’m not upset. You don’t think I am, right?” he caught you sniffling, leaning forward to take a look at your face but you kept on turning away. “Y/N— Y/N, look at me, okay? I’ll be your personal cheerleader from now on, yeah? Up until you realize that you’re actually greater than you think you are.”

He was too good to you.

“I’m— I’m sorry I couldn’t be there when you were having a tough time.”

You silently muttered, meekly sneaking a glance at him to see that he was actually smiling at you this entire time. He’d always been like this.

“It’s alright, you didn’t have a choice, right?” he assured. “And I’m all better now, as you can see. I can even jump off the cliff into the ocean without having a single scratch!”

Right, you managed a laugh from his silly proclamation. He lit up upon hearing you. Maybe you can try to be like that too.

“What’s important is that from now on.”

There had been a gap between the two of you that entire time, but Jaemin bridged it the moment his hand brushed against your skin, his pinky interlocking with yours against the coarse ground. You met his eyes. He shot you a smile. That same smile that you could never get enough of.

“You’ll be with me.”

“Jaemin, please put your shirt back on.”

When you walked back into the living room, easel and canvas in your arms, you did not expect to be met with your childhood friend-slash-boyfriend mid-strip. In fact you were far too in shock that you dropped everything to the floor at that exact moment, only managing to utter those previous words once you were busy picking them all back up and not looking at him. He quickly ran to help you.

“Oh, I thought this was—” he passed you a paintbrush, helping you stand back up once you’ve gotten everything. “Aren’t the models for your classes usually, like, naked?”

“You think I was gonna paint you nude?!”

“Well,” he mused, holding his shirt to his bare chest. “If you want— okay, sorry! Shirt on! Shirt on!”

You settled down the easel that you just threatened to launch at him near the window where the afternoon sunlight was leaking through. A few days prior, you had contacted Ten Lee regarding the online exhibit, asking when the deadline was because you wanted to include one more piece in your portfolio.

“Nana, can you sit over here?”

There was a stool situated a few feet in front of the easel and right beside the window. He did as you said, now fully dressed and sitting properly and well behaved. You marched up to him, moving around his limbs into a specific pose. Jaemin wore a subtle smile as you grabbed his arms to a certain position, his shoulders into a certain angle, and when your fingers landed on his jaw to adjust his head, he just couldn’t help but throw all your work out the window by pulling you towards him by the waist.

“What are you—” a kiss fell on your nose. Jaemin shot you a cheeky smile.

“Sorry,” he said. “I couldn’t help it.”

You weren’t inclined to do anything else but forgive him, even if it meant refixing him into position, but somehow you managed. Running back behind the easel, you wore a satisfied smile upon seeing the composition, flicking your wrist to start the initial sketch. There was music running in the background. Jaemin sat still for thirty whole minutes.

“Can I move for a sec?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you answered. “I got the basic shapes down anyway.”

He let out an amazed gasp, lips forming into an ‘o’ shape. “So cool,” he said, and you let out a little laugh.

You were trying to focus, but in between a few strokes of your pencil, he wiggled his eyebrows when you looked at him again. You threw your head down to suppress a barrage of giggles. “Okay, this is— this is going nowhere. Can I just take a picture of you?”

Even taking a shot of him was difficult because he just wouldn’t sit still. He’d always do something to make you laugh or smile just when you were about to take a picture. You scolded him, telling him that all you needed was a few takes then the both of you can make a run for some popsicles at the nearby store. He straightened upon hearing, and you finally got to do the job.

“Do you have a title in mind for the piece?” he asked, just as you finished taking the last photo of his face up close.

You did have one. In fact, you’ve had it in mind for a while now.

“Yeah,” you answered, smiling. “Mahiwaga.”

Haechan, for whatever suspicious reason, volunteered to treat you out to lunch today at a family restaurant near the uni. You did not know why, and he would not tell you why, but you could not pass up free food. You texted Soorim to follow just in case you needed mental support because as you sat across him, looking up from your phone while munching your fries to catch the terrifying stare he was giving you, you could tell that you needed at least one other person around.

[you: dude, i think hes actually planning on killing me please hurry up]

[soorim: omw babe]

[soorim: but ur paying for me right]

You sighed, telling her yes you already ordered her food, and she replied with an annoying heart that you refused to mark read. Just as you were about to shut off your phone, ready to hear whatever Haechan was brewing, another message was sent your way.

[<nana3: baby, i saw the exhibition!! 🤩 you know, you’re so amazing, you know?!?! nana is super super proud of you 🥺💚 and i’m sure your parents are, too!! i sent the link to all of my friends yesterday hehe. also i’ll call you immediately after my class, ok?? don’t forget to drink lots of water today 😚 byebye! 💚]

“Are you two fucking yet?”

Haechan’s question caused you to choke on your fries, dropping your phone to the table so you can reach for the glass of Sprite. You looked at him, appalled. “I’m sorry?”

“What are we talking about?”

Soorim had belatedly joined in the party, pushing you farther into the seat to make room for herself. Her eyes zeroed in on the table, choosing the giant burger to attack first. You scrunched your nose as you looked at her.

“We—”

“Whether Y/N and Jaemin have done the dirty yet,” Haechan interrupted. You looked at him in offense and horror. He reciprocated with a deadpan stare. “You have, haven’t you? I went to Jaemin’s house at four in the morning yesterday and—”

“Why were you at his house at four?!”

“Doesn’t matter.”

You looked at him in disbelief, scoffing, and you looked over to Soorim with the words ‘can you believe this guy?’ ready to fire from your tongue. You could not say it. Not when Soorim looked absolutely compelled by Haechan’s bullshit allegations. She even stopped scarfing down her food. You made a mistake in calling her up here.

“What matters is that he looked absolutely fucked out absolutely naked, but not only that!” a scrunchie. He pulled out a scrunchie from his backpack. That was yours. Even had your hair on it. “This is yours isn’t it? I’ve caught you red handed, Y/N, now answer me—”

Haechan’s eyes were out to kill.

“You wrapped it, right? I’m too young to be called Uncle Hyuck so please tell me you did.”

“We are not—”

“That explains why you were walking all weird yesterday!” Soorim exclaimed. “Y/N, you know you could tell me these things, right? There is no—”

“We are not fucking!”

This wasn’t the best conversation to have at a family restaurant.

A waiter stopped serving the table next to you, it’s occupants (that included three kids and their parents) froze and looked at you in horror. An innocent passerby spilled his drink on his tray. You sharply inhaled, bowing your head apologetically. Thank god there weren’t any managers here— the three of you might have actually gotten kicked out.

With a cough, you collected yourself, giving both of your companions the stink eye for putting you in such a compromising position. “Can I not sleep at my boyfriend’s place without— without doing anything of that sort?” you huffed, ignoring the red hot heat creeping up your neck. “And as a matter of fact, I was walking weird because I fell down the while lugging plywood up the stairs, so shut the fuck up.”

The two of them let out a shriek at the same time.

“Boyfriend?! And what— you fell off the fucking stairs?!”

“Did you do as I told you?! Did you follow Hyuck’s five step guide on How To Trap Your—”

“Quiet!”

You shushed the both of them before the three of you actually got kicked out.

“Yes, boyfriend. Yes, I fell off the stairs. No, I did not follow Hyuck’s guide to whatever,” you spitefully took a sip from your drink. “You never even told me what the hell that was.”

As Haechan started to further explain his guide with Soorim enthusiastically taking everything in, you were caught by the buzzing of your phone. The screen lit up. Someone sent you an e-mail— the sender you did not recognize at all. You wiped your fingers with some tissues on the table before taking the device, clicking on the notification immediately after.

“Right. After you tell him that you’re— hey! Y/N, are you even listening?”

You shot up. Haechan noticed the distraught look in your eyes. His brows furrowed together.

“What’s wrong?”

The following weekend, you went out and treated Jaemin to dinner at a fancy Chinese restaurant despite his many complaints. He was about to pay for everything again, but this time you were faster in stealing the check. Afterward, you stopped by a nearby hardware store to buy another two pieces of plywood. You’ve been painting a lot more frequently lately, and you’ve been experimenting more on larger scale works. It was fortunate that Jaemin was there to help you bring the large sheets of wood this time.

“There we go.”

Jaemin settled the wood resting upright against your living room wall, right beside a few stained cans of paint underneath layers of newspaper. You thanked him, smiling, and he ruffled the hair on your head.

“You should ask me whenever you need to do some heavy work alright? We don’t want a rerun of last time,” you cringed upon recalling. That wasn’t a pretty fall. “How are your legs? Have the bruises healed?”

“Almost. You don’t have to worry,” you assured him. He sighed in relief.

Dinner and a shopping trip weren’t the only reasons you called him out tonight. You had actually been meaning to tell him something within the past three days. Your parents knew, Haechan and Soorim found out during lunch last time, Renjun and Jeno might have already found out thanks to their loudmouthed friend. All that’s left was Jaemin. It was his reaction that would help you make the decision.

But why was it so difficult to start talking?

“I’m gonna head out now,” he hummed, pulling you into his chest. You bit down your lip, contemplating, and maybe he noticed your unease and hesitation, as if he could hear your unsaid thoughts, because he lightly pulled away to look at your face and spoke. “What is it? Do you wanna tell me something?”

Of course, you thought to yourself. He’d probably know you’re hungry before your stomach could even rumble.

You gently pried away his hands from your arms, a hollow smile directed to him. Concern flashed through his eyes, but he held back his tongue, waiting for you to say your mind instead.

“Yeah…” you started. “I— I do have something to tell you.”

That was what you said, but as the clock ticked a couple dozen times in the background, you still had yet to tell him. It wasn’t easy to tell him. Because you were afraid that the moment you opened your mouth to squeeze out a single word, you might not make it to finish the entire sentence. If it were him, this might have been easy. But you were not, so it took a little more effort on your part to let the words go.

Maybe you shouldn’t have looked him in the eye, because the moment you did, your eyes stung from the threat of tears and so you jerked your head to the side.

But you weren’t able to evade, because Jaemin decided to follow you. You turned away again, looking towards the unplugged television, but it was once again replaced by Jaemin’s dark brown eyes. Your eyes stung, your lips pressed together, and at that moment you couldn’t help but laugh at his ridiculous actions throwing your head down in the midst of it, but your laughter got choked up by the sudden streaming of tears that you had come unprompted.

Jaemin panicked.

“Hey, hey, baby, what’s wrong? What is it?” he ducked down to reach your face, cupping your cheeks with his large hands as you wiped away your tears. “It’s okay, you can tell me, baby. I’ll listen to everything, okay?”

It took you a while to regain your voice, but Jaemin patiently waited with words of consolation. You couldn’t understand how one person could have this much goodwill and kindness in them.

Eventually your sniffling died down, and so you finally willed yourself to speak. “I— I joined Ten’s exhibition, right? And— and there was a possibility that other artists or institutions might be interested in the participants, right?”

“Mhm,” he replied, stroking the back of your head as you tightly gripped the front of his shirt. “Go on.”

“I— I got scouted? You know PIOA? In Paris? They— they offered me a full scholarship if I…” you paused for a moment, biting the inside of your mouth. “If I transfer there for the remaining months until my last year.”

Jaemin took a while to absorb it, silence flooding along with your occasional sniffles.

“Isn’t that a good thing? Ah, ah, baby look at me, look at me,” he grabbed your shoulders, frowning when he made contact with your red stained eyes. He brushed your cheek with his thumb, heart heavy from seeing you like this. It pained him to see you this way. “Why are you crying? Don’t you want to go?”

A beat of silence. You swallowed, speaking in a small, shaky voice.

“Do you want me to go?”

Another beat of silence.

“Of course! Can you imagine that out of all the people that joined that exhibit, they chose you! Your talent and hard work shouldn’t go to waste,” Jaemin inhaled sharply in between his speech, managing a smile for you to see. “I’m really proud of you, Y/N. An opportunity like this doesn’t come that easily.”

“Jaemin.”

You softly sounded, letting your head fall into his chest. He held you close, as if you were leaving at that instant.

“You know I was so happy when we got in touch again, when I came back to Korea. I know I don’t have a lot going on for me, but I could easily forget all of that because I’m with you,” once more, you felt the tears start to rise up again, but you tried your hardest to swallow them down. “It hasn’t even been that long since we got reunited and now you’re… you’re just telling me to leave you again miles, miles away as if it’s nothing.”

“It’s not like that, Y/N. It’s hard for me too, you know,” he muttered into your hair with a slight whine, his chin resting over your head. “But it’s not like we’re never going to see each other again, right? We managed for seven years, what’s two or three more?”

When he heard you stifle a laugh, laughing despite your sniveling, he couldn’t help but laugh along too. Once more and perhaps the last that night, he pulled away so he could look at the smile on your face, eyes still red and watery, and he pressed a warm kiss on your forehead.

“You have nothing to worry about, baby. We can visit each other during breaks and—” he breathed out, lips curling into a smile. “I’ll call you every day.”

Right, you wiped away your remaining tears, huffing out a brief, airy chuckle.

You looked at him, hopeful, earnest.

“Every day?”

You asked.

“Every day.”

He answered.

You were never going to get used to airports. They always carried a bitter, cold air that signified a goodbye that you were far too familiar with. Today was no different.

“Don’t forget to drink your vitamins alright? It’s a new environment so you might need some time to get used to it. Oh! And—”

“Dude, you’re worse than her actual mom.”

Jaemin shot a smile to your mother at the mention, who was waiting for your group to finish from a distance with your father. Your mother was to stay with you in Paris for a week until you got everything settled down while the four boys, Soorim, and your father decided to send you off today. Though, unlike your usual experiences with leaving and returning, today was much louder, more rowdy. It was a nice change— you only wished that it would last longer.

“It’s okay, I appreciate the concern,” you laughed. “Do I have to report back to you everything before I go to bed?”

“Well, if you can,” Jaemin mused, locking his pinky finger with yours and swinging your hand into the air from side to side. “Kidding, kidding. I trust you’ll take care of yourself there.”

A chorus of gagging noises broke out when you pulled his shirt, burying your face into his chest, prompting him to smile and wrap his arms around you. You drowned them out, though, only focusing on how warm he was despite the cold brushing of the wind, how he held you with so much gentleness that one would think he was afraid that he might break you.

It was funny how free you felt when you were trapped inside his embrace.

“How many times do I have to say goodbye to you at the fucking airport?” you grumbled, tears welling up again and so you wiped them away with your sweater sleeve. “Wait, why aren’t you crying. Aren’t you even at the very least sad that I’m gonna leave?”

Jaemin chuckled, replacing your hand with his to brush away the stray tears.

“If I cry in front of you then you probably won’t even board the plane.”

You hated that he was right.

“I’ll do it after you leave,” he let out a laugh, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. At that moment, the pre-boarding announcement rang throughout the area's speakers, signalling that it was time for you and your mother to go. Grabbing your suitcase, you sent a grateful look to each one of them— your father, Jeno, Renjun, Donghyuck, Soorim, and—

Jaemin suddenly grabbed your suitcase handle before you could go, his hand right beside yours. You locked eyes with him, wide and surprised.

He landed a kiss right on your lips.

“Call me when you arrive, okay?”

You mindlessly nodded, still in the midst of recovering from shock. Your mother called out to you to start moving.

As you walked away, head still locked behind, you watched as the four screamed, cheered, and teased your boyfriend as they shook and pushed him around like a ragdoll, while he just kept on looking at you with a smile.

“Don’t worry, Y/N! I’ll record his crying face!”

Haechan screamed despite being several feet away already, and you stifled out a laugh.

You might have to say goodbye today, but time will come when you would meet again.

Across the cobblestone tiled sidewalk, people were walking about, the streets were filled with tourists and natives, the mid noon sun was just in reach. Summers had always been crowded in the city, and you were swimming in the middle of the crowd in a far too inappropriate attire, sweating as you spoke into the phone.

“Oh, yeah. I’m on my way to the gallery now— I had to stop by at a cafe first, though.”

“You seem busy.”

Jaemin’s voice echoed from your phone’s speakers. The streetlight turned red. You followed the crowd as you crossed the street.

“Yeah… It’s a lot of back and forth work, even on the last day of the show, but it’s all worth it,”you replied. “Did you know that people kept on asking me who my muse was for Mahiwaga? Ever the popular boy, even when you’re not here.”

It has been a year and a half since you first got to France. Things have been going well on your part with your budding art career— and so far you’ve guested in three exhibitions, but you have yet to have one solo. Even though you and Jaemin promised to see each other during breaks, it was practically impossible to align your time. He was busy with internships and his organizations this year and so were you. But one thing the both of you have faithfully maintained throughout the course of your time away was calling each other every day, even if it was just for a few minutes.

A cyclist sped past you. Jaemin’s voice was heard again. He laughed at your last remark, saying that he wasn’t that popular, but all of a sudden his voice turned into a more serious tone.

“Since you have a lot of work these days…”

Your brows furrowed, squinting as the light shone into your eyes. You clutched your sling bag, heels clattering as you passed by the cream, brown, and grey buildings.

“Should we call less often?”

You stopped in your tracks.

What?

“No— no, Jaems, what are you saying? Are you sick? Are you not feeling well?” you were almost late for the opening, but you couldn’t care less at the moment. What was he on about? Call less? Never had that crossed your mind even once. “I don’t even get to see you anymore, so if anything… we should call as often as we can.”

A few people passed from behind. His end of the line was silent. Your lips scrunched into a frown, confused.

“Jaemin?”

“That’s a relief.”

Before you could even ask him anything, the call ended.

“What the hell?” you huffed, staring at your phone screen in perplexity before you returned it to your pocket. Maybe he was feeling a lot more lonely than usual— that was unavoidable, but the both of you made it work. You should ask him what that was all about later. Now, you really needed to head to the gallery. With a sigh, you marched forward, stopping at an intersection where the large, eggshell white walls of the gallery stood across.

You stopped before the crosswalk, the lights green, and a few vehicles passed by, and your thoughts were once again clouded by Na Jaemin and why did he suddenly propose that. Was he getting sick of you? Was this his way of hinting a breakup? Your face contorted into a look of horror. No, you shook your head at the notion. He literally sent you a picture of a weird keychain last night  saying it reminded him of you. Another sigh. The light went red. You crossed the street.

Maybe it was because you were thinking too much of him, maybe you were missing him too much, but the moment you reached the middle of the crosswalk, your heart suddenly stopped, legs froze, eyes stuck to the sight right in front of you.

There he stood, right before the front stairs of the gallery with dozens of people disappearing and passing by. He spotted you, eyes lighting up, the corners of lips automatically quirking upwards. He sent you a small wave.

You ran.

“Hi— woah!”

Maybe you were causing a scene, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t find it in you to care when Na Jaemin was right fucking here. He chuckled when you suddenly ran into him, wrapping you in a tight hug that matched your own. “You know, I was afraid that you’d actually agree to limiting our calls,” he started, and you looked up, the light shining into your eyes. Jaemin’s smile was as bright as the sun. “I thought I would have to deport myself back to Korea.”

Your lips quivered, unable to hold it back. Yeah, you shook your head, a shaky laugh leaving your lips. It’s always been like this.

“Is this where you’re holding the exhibit? Wow, it’s a lot bigger than in pictures.”

There are points in your life where you’re met with a choice— to stay or leave, to smile or cry. Always him between something else. Twice. You’ve said goodbye to him twice choosing to leave. For a moment, it might seem that you’ve chosen the other. But that was never the case, because at the end of each day it was him you were thinking of, it was him that your lines end, it would always be—

“Y/N? Y/N? Are you crying?” he exclaimed, frowning as he wiped away your tears. “Ah, it’s such a happy day today, you shouldn’t be crying.”

“I missed you, you dummy.”

—Him. You’d always choose him. Na Jaemin. Jaems. Nana. Your childhood best friend. Your boyfriend—

He smiled at you, eyes shining, pressing a kiss on your forehead before taking you into his arms once more with a shaky breath. “I missed you too.”

—Your mahiwaga.

hannie-dul-set, 2020.