#i hope you’re having a wonderful day anon!!!! and good luck with the fic writing my angel <33< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

I hope it's okay to brainrot a little in your inbox. Idk if I'll turn this into a fic later (but if it inspires u take it🫵) but I just got another lippiercing and the guy was so nice and such a sweetheart and incredibly attractive and now all I can think about it piercer!geto😩

Oh he'd be so gentle with newbies, especially if they're as cute as reader. And oh how he adores the little nervous smiles as he studies your lips to see how the veins run and where the placement of the piercing should be

He shouldn't be tracing over your lips with his thumb like this but if it calms you down, what kind of piercer would he be if he didn't ensure the comfort of his clients!?!?!

No thoughts head empty just pretty tattooed piercer!geto suguru

ANONNNNNN OFC YOU CAN BRAINROT IN MY INBOX!!!!! THAT’S WHAT IT’S HERE FOR!!!!!!!!

AND GOOD GOD 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 piercer!sugu..,,, piercer!sugu……. i have no words this is . so so tasty. i need him so bad . he really would be so sweet and gentle….. i feel like he loves it when his clients are a little nervous because he loves soothing them 🥺 THE THUMB ON YOUR LIP. GOD HELP ME. ohhhhh him being a little touchy with his clients…,, all for the sake of calming them down of course……. not at all because he thinks you look so cute sitting there nervously nibbling on your bottom lip……….. maybe leaning in for a little kiss once you’ve started relaxing more. you’re being so brave, of course he has to reward you!!!!

but . oughhh…. really anon……. this is everything…..,,, he’s just so caring and teasing and skilled 😔😔😔 thank you for sharing the tasty crumbs i am eating them slowly and thoroughly

[lacontroller1991]

Baths and Tea (Jonathan Crane x GN!Reader)

Main Master List || MISC Master List

Requested by anon: I wish you would write a fic where Crane takes care of reader when they have a stressful day and he sees they are a bit on edge, I need comfort sorry u.u....

-- Anya 🍓

Author's Note: SO THIS IS MY FIRST CRANE FIC I HOPE I DO HIM JUSTICE

Warnings: just a really really shitty day, mentions of nudity/undressing, language

Word Count: 1.1k

----------

It all started with a cold bed. You woke up at around 7:30, expecting to cuddle into the side of your boyfriend and go back to sleep only to feel no body presence by your side. You initially shrugged it off and still got out of bed to grab coffee. When you got to the coffee pot you thought it would be hot, but when you took a sip, it was cold. 

“You gotta be kidding me.” You had murmured to yourself, eyes rolling at how thoughtful your boyfriend is.

When you managed to get to your class, after missing the bus, you found out that it was canceled and this pissed you off. Normally, professors would send courtesy emails to let students know if the class is canceled but apparently not.

By the time lunch had come around you were already done with the day. To try and lift up your spirits, you decided to go to your favorite lunch spot by campus, hoping that they would have your favorite item on the menu, but just your luck, they didn’t. “This day literally couldn’t get any worse.”

It did. And by the time you got home for the day, you were ready to cry and just bury yourself underneath a pile of blankets. Which is how your boyfriend finds you.

Jonathan typically isn’t the affectionate type. You would even go as far as saying that he doesn’t know what the word affection means. He sometimes wonders why you haven’t left him for someone a little more…warm. Finding you underneath a pile of blankets though? It raises concern in him. 

Moving to your side of the bed, he sits on the edge, trying to find your face under the mound but failing to do so. Instead, he pulls back the covers only to find your eyes puffy and tears running down your face. 

“Dove? What’s wrong?” Despite the words of concern, they sound apathetic, and you instantly notice.

“Why do you even care?” The abrasiveness of your comment causes him to jolt back. He definitely did not expect that from you. He tries to think of what to do. It’s clear that you’ve had a rough day and he wants to make it better. Nodding his head tersely, he leaves your side and goes to the kitchen. 

Not even 5 minutes later he's walking back into the room, a cup of hot tea in his hands. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed again, he lightly nudges you causing you to push the blankets away and look up at him through tear soaked lashes. 

“I made you your favorite tea.” He offers the tea to you and you take it from him, savoring the warmth that the cup provides, eyeing him suspiciously.

“What did you put in it?” 

“Nothing that I wanted to,” he tries to make a joke about his work, but he gathers it’s not the right crowd right now. “Do you want to talk about your day?”

You take a sip of the tea, letting the warm drink soothe your throat and warm your body. You can’t deny that him making you tea did boost your mood slightly. People often ask you why you’re with Jonathan Crane of all people. He’s cold. Calculative. Creepy. Apathetic. But none of those things really bother you. You try to focus on the good in him, and it’s moments like this that make you glad that you’ve stayed with him, even if he is a challenge.

“It’s just you weren’t here this morning and didn’t bother heating up some coffee. Then I was late to class because the bus system fucking sucks and it was all a mute point because class was cancelled anyways. I tried getting my favorite lunch but they were out of it, and when I chose another option, my card declined. Then when I went to my other class we got our exams back and I didn’t do as well as I wanted to. When I got home I got an email saying that the job I had applied for was now occupied and they don’t need me. To make matters worse, the same asshole professor that randomly canceled class just posted a new assignment that’s due tomorrow and it’s supposed to be 8 pages long. A research paper. Due tomorrow.” You start to cry again and Jonathan takes the drink out of your hands, setting it to the side before pulling you into his arms as best as he can. Even though he is a trained psychologist and an active psychiatrist, he doesn’t know what to do. 

“That sounds horrible. I’m sorry.” He comments nonchalantly while stroking your hair softly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as you begin to calm down, nuzzling into him lightly.

“It is horrible. I just want today to be over.” Jonathan pulls away and hands you back your drink before standing to his full height and disappearing into the bathroom. You try to move your head and see what he’s doing, but it becomes obvious when you hear the bathtub faucet running. Jonathan appears a second later and offers you a hand. Taking his hand, he pulls you out of bed and towards the bathroom where you see the tub being filled with water and bubbles? “Jonathan?”

“Why don’t you get in the bath and I’ll run down to that Chinese place you like to grab some dinner. Does that work?” He stands slightly awkwardly as a smile creeps its way onto your face. Again, it’s moments like these where you really love him. 

“Can you stay with me? I really want some physical affection.” He nods his head and begins to strip while you watch with a smirk on your face. Upon realizing that you’re staring at him, he looks at you through his glasses. 

“Aren’t you going to get undressed?”

“Mmhmm I’m just enjoying the view.” He doesn’t make a comment as he watches you undress and slip into the tub before joining you, awkwardly positioning himself behind you as you lean back into him. “This is really nice.”

“I’m sorry you had a bad day,” he comments more sincerely this time, pushing your hair aside and pressing a soft kiss against your shoulder, causing you to shiver. 

“You’re making it better.” He smiles against your skin as his arms wrap around you, pulling you flush against him. 

“I’m glad to hear that. Do you want me to kill the professor?” He’s 98% serious and you know it.

“Jonathan,” you warn as he lets out a chortle.

“What? I was only kidding.” A moment of silence. “Partially.”

[britany1997]

Could I make a request? It's my birthday tomorrow and I'd love to know how the boys (maybe both individually and poly) would treat their S/O on their birthday. Love your fics and HCs, so glad I found your blog!

Absolutely you can! And Happy Birthday! I hope you have a wonderful day!

I’m gonna do headcannons because I think they would work best for this request:)

Celebrating your Birthday with the Lost Boys

David:

•He’s grumpy, but he adores you

•He gives, ‘I hate everyone but you’ energy with his S/O

•He likes to seem indifferent a lot of the time, since he’s got this ‘super cool leader of a biker gang’ reputation he needs to protect

•But he cares for you very deeply

•He listens to everything you say. Everything.

•And he’s incredibly observant and always keeping a close eye on you

•So if there was something you told him you wanted but it was too expensive, or something you liked at a store but talked yourself out of buying

•He got it for you

•The craziest most extravagant things you might never have gotten for yourself

•A Cartier bracelet? It’s yours. A PS5? All wrapped up for you. A signed first edition of your favorite book? Yep. Don’t ask how he got it.

•Seriously. Don’t ask.

•He shows his love by spoiling you and he wants you to feel loved on your special day🥹

Dwayne:

•Dwayne is the romantic of the group

•He writes you the sweetest birthday card you’ve ever gotten

•It’s like a love letter to you and you can feel his adoration coming off the page

•You can see how he started out with normal sized letters, but he had so much to say that they get smaller and smaller towards the end

•He writes over and over again how much he loves you and cares for you

•He writes about how happy he is that you were born and how lucky he is to be with you

•He tells you how you’re incredibly smart, ridiculously attractive, and overwhelmingly kind

•He includes a little poem about you as well, taking the time to detail your features and compare you to an Angel or some other worldly creature

•He writes about how he genuinely can’t believe a treasure like you could love a “literal monster” like him, but he’ll spend the rest of his eternal life trying to return the love he thinks you’re worthy of

•He thinks the world of you and wants you to feel appreciated and loved, not just on your birthday, but everyday

•He signs it ‘xxxxxxx <- my kisses’

•Just to make sure you know

•He asks Laddie to sign the card too and Laddie writes about how special you are and how grateful he is for you too

Paul:

•Listen

•He is his gift to you

•He shows up to your nest with a bow on his chest and winks at you

•I said on anon to another TLB account once that I think Paul’s the type of guy to give you a cast of his dick as a present and I stand by it

•If you’re not into that though he totally respects it and he’ll get you something else

•He’ll give you tons of cuddles and hugs

•He just likes to hold you, and he knows you like to be held🥹

•He tapes a birthday hat he cut out of a magazine on to fishy’s bowl for you too

•He would also want to give you a kiss for every year you’ve been alive

•He’s like, “you want em all at once or throughout the day?”

•Every time he gives you a kiss he’ll tell you something he loves about you

•Man has no filter and is always ready to tell you all the reasons you’re special to him

•He also makes you a little coupon book with sweet little things like “good for one bear hug,” “redeem for one boardwalk adventure,” and “turn into Paul for one quiet night together at the beach.”

•There are also some..um….spicy coupons in there too (if you want them of course)

•He says those you can reuse;)

Marko:

•Marko bakes you a cake:)

•Now this can go one of two ways

•Marko makes Panettone and Pandoro for the boys around Christmastime

•When he lived in Italy, his mom taught him how to make it and he still uses her recipe

•If that’s what he does, it turns out really great and it’s super yummy!

•However, if Marko makes you ANY other cake…good luck

•Aside from beloved family recipes intertwined with childhood memories, Marko does not believe in recipes.

•He is an agent of chaos and his cooking skills reflect this for the most part.

•He also really doesn’t get baking soda/powder and how much you should add (but he’ll never admit that and look at a recipe, that’s for quitters)

•But whichever he does he makes it with love🥹

•He frosts it, writes a sweet happy birthday message in colored icing on it, puts candles on it and lights them for you

•Once you blow out the candles he’ll take a little bit of it and shove it in Paul’s face (like wedding style)

•He wouldn’t do it to you of course because it’s your birthday (but Paul is fair game😈)

•He watches you eat it with heart eyes because food is such a big part of the culture in Italy, and it means a lot to him when you eat what he makes and enjoy it

Poly:

•If you’re more extroverted and don’t mind attention, they throw you a party in the cave!

•They invite all your friends and family so you’re surrounded by all the people you love

•Marko buys all your favorite snacks and drinks

•David makes a playlist of all your favorite songs for dancing and vibing

•Dwayne and Paul are in charge of decorations

• “We need a theme”

• “Not all parties have themes Paul”

• “All the good parties do! Don’t you want the best for the love of our life???”

•They make it an 80s theme party

•And not like tacky 80s themed, actual, very authentic 80s themed party

•All the guest come in 80s themed outfits (they don’t need to change) and they put something aside for you to wear too when you arrive at the party

•They do the whole ‘make everyone hide until you come in and then jump out and yell surprise’ thing

•Then you dance the night away celebrating with your favorite people!

•But if you don’t like parties, and you prefer not to be the center of attention, they have a plan for that too!

•They steal get a projector and screen and they set it up in the center of the cave

•They pull the mattress from your nest out into the main area too and throw tons of blankets and pillows on it

•They make popcorn and grab tons of candy and soda

•When you get to the cave they surprise you with a movie night in!

•You spend the night cuddled up next to them watching your favorite movie

•If you fall asleep, they carry the mattress back to your nest (with you on it of course) and all fall asleep in your nest with you

•They love you so much and want you to have the best birthday ever:)

I hope you liked this:)

Taglist:

@ghoulgeousimmaculate @altierirose @solobagginses

[rubberduckrobin]

hi there im feelin a bit blue, i wonder if u can do some belphie comfort writing? like when uve just had a terrible day feelin like everything downed on u and u came to him for console :,) hes my favorite character so if u do it tyvm! if u dont thats perfectly ok too!

Hey Anon! Tysm for this request - it means a lot to me! I’m sorry to hear you haven’t been feeling good but I hope you’re doing alright <3

Enjoy the fic! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

𝘾𝙤𝙢𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩.

Fandom: Obey Me!

Pairing: Belphegor x GN!Reader

Type: Fluff, comfort

Word count: Around 1k. (rounded up)

Summary: After a long, difficult day you seek out Belphie for comfort, hoping that you’ll find what was missing from your day, in the warmth of his arms.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51474559

TW: Nothing I can think of.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓

Prologue:

Please love me. Please tell me you love me. Please tell me you love me and brush my tears away. 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆

Part 1: The dark stormy clouds bring satisfied fields of flowers. 

Fortune is something you believe in. And from the moment you woke up, you knew you weren’t on cruel luck's side. 

Even your morning’s dream was a nightmare. Even the little comfort you found in the day’s rainy skies, your favourite type of weather, cannot overcome the underlying feeling of needing something more. 

Needing to let out anger, at the strangers that pushed against you, let out sadness at the loss of the day that could have been productive.

You need something.

Today was awful. Today was a day you wish hadn’t happened. 

But a part of you knows that seeking comfort in Belphegor afterwards is what would make it so…worth it. 

You hate feeling as though you’re taking advantage, and that you shouldn’t want to have such a terrible day just to be able to come to Belphie for help, but his warmth is irresistible, like a blanket in bitter cold. 

This wasn’t the first time you found yourself outside his room, staring blankly at his doorknob, a debate with two sides of your brain, the ‘considerate’ and the ‘selfish’.

Should I knock? Should I leave? 

If he denies your presence, you’ll be left empty, unloved, another reason for wanting the horrible day to end and for the earth to cave in under your feet. 

However, he could also be the one to stop everything; your memories of the people that pushed past you, the lack of effort you put into your work, the torment you endured from family, acquaintances, friends. Everything. Everything that happened.

The doorknob clicks open.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆

Part 2: Security Blanket

As you reach for the door, it opens from the other side.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?”

Your swollen-eyed gaze meets Belphegors and it only takes him a moment to realise what’s happening.

“Another one of those days, huh?”

You can’t respond.

Everything…

“Alright. Come in.”

Everything…

Belphie wraps around you by the waist almost instantaneously, cold hands curling warmly around your stomach; his warmed breath paces against the line of your neck, tickling you gently. 

He runs circles on your back whilst leading you towards his bed. 

“I was just feeling sleepy. I’m glad to have a new pillow.”

Still holding your hand, he gets under his duvet, ushering you in with soft breaths. 

Everything…

You’re pulled into the comfort of his blanket, and he repositions his arms to be around your torso again, burrowing his head into the crook of your neck. 

“Mm.”

Everything…

“Are you gonna tell me what happened?” he asks, in nothing more than a whisper.

“It’s just…not a good day today.”

“Alright…do you want to stay here with me? Like this?”

“…yes.”

Everything.

Time stops. Memories stop. 

It’s only you and him. 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆

Part 3: As gentle as mournful melodies tribute to joy. 

He begins to hum, the vibrations running down your aching body. 

The song is not one you know, but it provides a sense of familiarity. It’s similar to the feeling of completing something small, like a puzzle, or something big, like your day. 

As he runs his hands through your hair, you find your mind to be indulged in nothing but the sensation. The feeling of his fingers winding their way through each strand, the pause when he goes to start from your scalp again.

You feel pampered.

Everything.

Through newfound drowsy thoughts, you begin to speak.

“Everything today was just so…”

Before you can find the word to complete it, he speaks.

“Difficult? …mm…”

“Like the world was…”

“…Against you?”

“No. More like…crashing in on me. But yeah, that too.”

“Okay. It’s okay. That’s life…”

“Life sucks then.”

“Yeah…it really does.”

Everything.

“…what can make it better?”

“I don’t know.”

“…is there anything I can do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Alright. Do you want to sleep? …Or talk?”

 “I don’t…”

“Know?” His laughs are muffled against your body and your heart just melts - you’re so lucky to have him.

It’s unusual how you aren’t anything more than friends, but you are together as though more. His tenderness as he holds you seems more than just what you are labelled. 

“Hey, Belphie?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t you think its weird to be like…this? You know…”

“Huh? Oh. No? You were upset. And you looked exhausted. I don’t see a problem with this.”

“Don’t you think this is something for couples?”

“No. But…”

“But?”

“It’s nothing, go to sleep. You’re tired.”

Nothing more is needed to be said, and nothing more is to be done, aside from you just staying in his arms as you dream.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆

Part 4: Dreams.

I dream of idle moments in your arms. The weight of your body against mine. The sink of my heart before the flutter. The stars in the sky as you watch with glistening eyes.

I think of how stupid this is, how stupid this all is. How ridiculous it is to think such romanticised thoughts.

Then I think of you.

Everything stops and all there is is my heartbeat against yours. 

Nothing less, nothing more.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓

End Author’s Note: I hope you enjoyed it! To whoever is reading this: please be kind to yourself and have a great day/night! :)

[sitp-recs]

hello! I love your recs so much, and have found some of my most favorite drarry fics and characterizations through your lists :)

I think I want to write my first drarry fic and it will include them as parents (of scorp and teddy) but I haven’t read any next gen canon (bc jkr avoidance) and have only occasionally encountered scorp and teddy in fic.

I’m wondering if you have any recommendations for fic that you think do a great job with the characterizations of Scorpius and Teddy so I can do them justice without checking out the source material!! In what I want to write they’ll be early hogwarts age so like 11-14 or 15, but I’d also love to read them at other ages that will help me get a strong sense of who they are. Thank you so so much!!!

Hi anon! How exciting, I’m so happy that you’re getting ready to start your own fic! I hope you have lots of fun writing it. I admit that I haven’t read many kid fics (especially with little kids) but I do love Scorpius and Teddy as characters, so I’m sharing below some of my favourite characterizations in fic. Good luck with your fic, can’t wait to read it!

Kid/Teenager:

Dragon Wings and Flying Things by rillalicious (NR, 6k)

The Annual Broom Race of Sweden is headed through the Swedish Short-Snout dragon reservation. Charlie has arranged for Harry to bring Teddy. In the midst of all the excitement, Harry finds out that one of the most famous Dragonologists in recent history is someone very familiar.

A Hippogriff for Christmas by @xanthippe74 (G, 6.4k)

Draco is desperately trying to fulfill four-year-old Scorpius’ dearest wish for Christmas: a visit with a real Hippogriff. Harry is desperately trying to be left alone, safely tucked away from the attention of the wizarding world as Hogwarts’ Keeper of the Keys and Grounds. It might take more than a father’s persistence to convince Harry to help make Scorpius’ Christmas dream come true.

Our Ordinary Days by Lomonaaeren (M, 8.4k)

Two men, both fathers of sons, meet in a bookshop. And the rest is the kind of history that doesn't make history.

Little Talks by Femme and noeon (E, 11k)

Draco's been shagging the Head Auror for months now, and he's sure it's just a fling. Until Harry asks him to a Quidditch match, that is, and things go horribly wrong.

Take the Moon by @tackytigerfic (M, 15k)

Harry Potter has always wanted a family of his own, and when a deadly blood curse forces him into a marriage bond with his best friend Draco Malfoy, it looks like he might just have found one.

The Strongest Affinity by eidheann (T, 17k)

Trouble finding a wand for Scorpius leads Harry and Draco to something they never imagined.

The Stars Above Us by 606, create_serenity (M, 19k)

It started as an innocent day out taking Teddy to visit the local observatory. Somehow it became so much more.

Young adult (Teddy):

Meet Me at Midnight by @the-starryknight (T, 57k)

Harry was beginning to wonder if he’d ever make anything again when Malfoy stormed through the door of Harry’s furniture shop. Now Harry’s got an impossible Ministry commission to finish, and even less energy than ever to deal with his elusive muse. That is, until he stumbles upon the surreal and beautiful world of a mysterious fae creature…

By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

[stormwife-writes]

too shy to say this off anon lol but I just wanted to say reading your fic inspired me to start writing my own (never even written a fic in my life but the gale brainrot is powerful). 🥹 As someone who hasn't written in a long long time, thank you for the motivation to go for it! and if you have any writing tips I would love to hear them. Have a wonderful day!

😭 I’m SO happy to hear the fic has been an inspiration to get (back) into writing!! It brings me a ton of joy to hear it especially since this story was the reboot of my writing journey too and I figured out a lot as I went along - and I’m sure you will too 💜

As for writing tips, gosh 🥹 Hooo boy so as a longfic writer I’m not great at being brief!! but a few high-level thoughts:

Reading a LOT - of the kind of works you would like to write. Whether it’s epic fantasy, erotica, screenplays (esp for dialogue), whatever, consuming a ton of those works and studying how the authors are executing plot, characters, dialogue, etc. Especially important for skills you’re looking to develop - for example, for me atm that’s illustrating rather than introspecting, breaking out of linear timelines, and distinct character voices, but it could be anything!

Writing a LOT - the fic was the first big story I ever wrote and I posted as I went, and when I went back to edit Act 1 at the end of that 8-month process I was shocked by how much I had developed (and how much editing Acts 1 & 2 needed, lol - which I’m almost finished with now!). So yep just getting hands to keyboard and figuring it out as you go along is the way, and best of all you get stories out of it - at the beginning the quality and audience doesn’t matter as much as just doing it 😊

“Go where it’s hot” - A writer I know gave me this advice once when I asked “how do I know when to switch from outlining to writing prose?”, and I’ve found it hugely helpful in making any sort of decisions about what to work on. Writing is for you first & foremost, and in my experience the more excited you are the better the work!

Read up on theory - I only started reading and taking courses about writing halfway through the fic, which was…. uh, a little late 😂 The resources I’ve found most helpful are: 1) On Writing by Stephen King, 2) Brandon Sanderson’s writing class on YouTube, 3) Truth Is the Arrow, Mercy Is the Bow by Steve Almond, and 4) Steering the Craft by Ursula K LeGuin. And if you or others find any other great writing resources on your journeys please send ‘em my way because I’m always learning!

As a bonus I’d thrown in: Engage - this one is hard for me tbh because I too am shy! I literally just shared my tumblr on Chapter 105 of the fic 😂 and am slowly trying to comment more on AO3 and engage more in internet spaces. But it’s really helpful to talk to people about writing and share your work, whether it’s IRL friends or internet friends or writing groups. Definitely one I’m still working on!! In that spirit always feel free to ping me here for any other writing qs or if you need a beta reader for your first piece!

Good luck with the writing, I’m super excited for you & anyone else starting on this journey 👏🏻 and hope to see your Gale brain rot make its way to AO3 soon 😁 💜

[lostcauses-noregrets]

hey, lost. I'm really deep into the eruri fandom and I really love all the fanfics I come across on AO3 and even read some of yours. some fics I've read these past months have really inspired me to pursue writing as a hobby. but, that's my problem. I don't think my writing is the best and I've been having a rough time looking for inspiration for stories. as a long-time writer for the eruri fandom, do you have any tips for new writers like me? appreciate it a lot!!!

Hey Anon, I’m glad you’ve been enjoying reading Eruri fanfics and it’s wonderful that they’ve inspired you to try your own hand at writing. Starting out as a fanfic writer can be pretty daunting, especially if you’re coming to a long standing fandom that already has an impressive “canon” of writing. I can vividly remember how nervous I was when I posted my first ever fanfic on Livejournal way back in 2009.  The thing to remember though is that all writers had to start somewhere, and that the best way to develop your writing is to keep doing it! 

A good piece of advice when you’re starting out (heck it’s good advice all the time!) is not to judge your own writing against other writers.  It’s also worth remembering that “best” is always subjective when it comes to writing, and popular doesn’t necessarily mean “good”.  Everyone has their own preferences and I’m sure that if you keep writing there will be readers out there who will love your particular style. 

In terms of inspiration, don’t be afraid to start small with headcanons, twitfics or even just snippets of dialogue.  You don’t have to have a whole plot mapped out, in fact you don’t even need a plot at all!  Some of the fics that have left a real impression on me have been little character studies. I’ve always really enjoyed writing missing scenes and different perspectives, that can be a helpful starting point if you’re struggling for ideas. Also don’t be afraid of writing scenarios that other people have already written. We’re talking about fanfic here, almost every conceivable idea has already been written at one stage or another.  The thing to remember is that your ideas will be unique to you. I’ve lost count of the number of post-ACWNR fics I’ve read over the years, most of which tread very similar ground, but all of them are unique and captivating in their own way. I can never get enough of them! Beyond canon, you can find inspiration almost anywhere; books, music, films, news reports, friends, you name it!  I used to keep a document of snippets of text and ideas that I’d jot down as they came to me. Some of these got developed into actual fics, often years later, others are just still notes.  I might use them some day though! 

I’d also encourage you to share your writing.  Writing on your own can be tough but the good news is that the Eruri community has always been really supportive and encouraging to new writers and artists.  Again, you don’t need to wait until you have a complete fic, lots of writers share snippets of writing on twitter with the hashtag #WIPWednesdays. There are also a couple of Eruri writing servers that you could try joining. DM me if you’re interested and I’ll pass on the details. Kicking headcanons around with other fans is a great way to spark inspiration. Fanart provides fertile grounds for inspiration too, and most artists are flattered to know that their work has inspired more creativity.  The Eruri fandom also has loads of ship weeks running throughout the year, catering to almost every taste, all of which come with their own list of prompts. Modern Eruri Week is 10-16 July, Eruri Angst Week is 2-8 October, and NSFW Eruri Week is currently voting on prompts. 

I hope this helps to encourage you Anon.  Good luck with your writing!

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

I posted 2,097 times in 2022

That's 216 more posts than 2021!

1,209 posts created (58%)

888 posts reblogged (42%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@thoughtfullyrainynightmare

@loosesodamarble

@simpingforthisonedeer

@lyranova

@delirious-donna

I tagged 2,078 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#black clover fanfiction - 386 posts

#black clover - 256 posts

#fuegoleon vermillion - 208 posts

#lovely mutuals - 203 posts

#personal - 122 posts

#black clover fanart - 115 posts

#black clover headcanons - 109 posts

#anon flamelets - 109 posts

#black clover oneshots - 104 posts

#ask game - 100 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#congratulations you’re the strongest mage in all of clover kingdom and now the lives of many rest on your shoulders. good luck on your first

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

145 notes - Posted January 10, 2022

#4

Hello, Laura! 😁 Could you please write a Yuno x reader with prompt Q7 “Do you suppose it’d be alright if I start courting you?” and prompt Q13 “Put that away and kiss me”? Thank you!! 💕💕

Hello dear~! Of course! I'm glad to see Yuno simps back on my blog, and I do hope that I managed to deliver with this one ^-^

Pairing: Yuno Grinberryal x gn!reader

Prompts: Q7 “Do you suppose it’d be alright if I start courting you?” and Q13 “Put that away and kiss me”

Genre: Fluff

Fic type: Oneshot

Length: ~0.9k

You had been running errands for the entire day, going around with a list, just to make sure that you wouldn’t forget anything. Though, as you were looking at all the things still on it, and looking at the clock, it had become apparent that you weren’t going to get everything done today. It wasn’t that you had explicitly told that you had to wrap up everything today, but you knew that if you slacked on it, then things would begin to stack up. Plus, it had felt like you were expected to get it done as soon as possible.

A sigh escaped you, and your eyes fell to the ground as you thought about it; all the responsibilities and tasks. Though it wasn’t like you were alone with it. All younger members had their fair share of duties; the older ones too, though their jobs weren’t quite as mundane as yours. Or so it seemed. Though you still remembered how even these tasks had appeared as so complex and difficult to do in the beginning, because of the amount of things you were supposed to grasp and remember, but now it was easy. So… maybe you’d be ready to take on something else in the near future.

But now, you needed to focus on getting-

“Hey.”

You turned around to see Yuno standing there, as tall and stiff as he usually was. Some might have said ‘uptight’, but to you it didn’t seem like that. Klaus was more uptight than Yuno was, but there was a kind of tension Yuno seemed to carry with him at all times.

Maybe it’s because of all the expectations on him, you thought to yourself as he spoke out your name, rolling it from his tongue with hesitation and tense syllables.

“Yeah?” You asked with curiosity that mixed together with uncertainty of your own, because… he was rather handsome. He was aloof and mysterious, but he was also kind and hard working. He was… wonderful.

“There’s something I’ve been needing to ask you,” he admitted, much more hesitantly than you’d imagine. On most days he would just have asked whatever it was that he was supposed to ask.

Butterflies swirled in your stomach, clashing against your ribs and trying to flutter to the surface. It made you feel like pacing around, and standing still, jumping up and down, and sitting down onto the ground. It made you want to gasp for air, and to hold your breath. So many contradicting urges that you wished that he’d already ask, as the seconds ticked away, making the moment seem like a fraction of an eternity.

“Do you…” he began as his eyes shifted to the side for a moment, and his voice became a mumble, “suppose it’d be alright if I start courting you?”

The question, you could barely comprehend it. Because it was just… too good to be true, honestly. So mindbogglingly, incomprehensibly wonderful that it made your train of thought fall from the rails.

And yet, your mouth new the word to speak. “Yes…” you whispered, with a nod and a swallow, which made a smile, a radiant smile that was your golden dawn, appear on his lips.

“I’m… glad,” he replied with faint, feather light syllables that danced in the air, in the wind that just might as well have been the swirling of his own emotions.

“I.. uhh.. well I-, still uhh… have these to do so…” you uttered out without thinking, as your body seemed to remember your duties than you yourself.

His eyes fell onto the list, and then rose back to you. It was as if he was thinking, trying to remember something, and had it not been for the split second of a shadow of realization that made his eyes widen, you might have thought it to be only a figment of your own imagination. But. There was an advice he certainly must have remembered, because what followed seemed more like something you might read between the pages of a book.

“Put that away and kiss me,” he proclaimed while wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer.

Your fingers curled around the list, crumbling the piece of paper in your hand as your heart thumped in your chest. The sound of blood rushing in your ears was almost deafening, and you were convinced that he might hear your heart beating.

But perhaps he did, or then he saw the surprise in your eyes as uncertainty, because he loosened his grip as his confidence failed him. And he took a step away.

You took a step closer.

It was so impulsive, and without a thought. But it felt… right. It felt right to close in that gap again, and wrap your arms around him as you… pressed your lips against his.

You pressed a kiss onto his lips, and it made your head feel light. A faint tremble coursed through your body as all you could think about was that you had just kissed him.

You had just kissed him.

And it was the boldest, bravest thing you had done so far. But. What followed was even sweeter.

See the full post

188 notes - Posted January 12, 2022

#3

Hello!! Can I request some headcanons for Fuegoleon, Nozel, Luck, Yuno and Asta with a daydreamer s/o, please? By the way I absolutely love your blog and writing!! 🧡🥰

Hello~! ^-^

Certainly! Who of us don't daydream at times, am I right? 😉😂 And: bshdgasdfad I'm so happy to hear that! 😭🥺💖

Pairing: Fuegoleon x gn!reader, Nozel x gn!reader , Luck x gn!reader , Yuno x gn!reader , Asta x gn!reader

Genre: Fluff

Fic type: Headcanons

Total Length: ~0.8k

Fuegoleon Vermillion

He takes joy from being able to steal glances of you when you’re lost in thoughts, just looking somewhere far, far away. Of course, he prefers you looking into his eyes, but this is the next best thing. You have a kind of tranquillity and serenity about you whenever you’re looking into the distance that makes him think that everything is alright with the world.

“My love…” he utters with such sweet syllables they might be the nectar of the high heavens, as he places his hand onto your shoulder if he needs to get your attention.

Somehow, he feels like the serenity of your daydreaming habit extends to him, and makes him calmer as well. He’s had to be grounded it what happens around him that at times, he feels like he’s lost imagination, not that he thinks about it that much. But whenever you wake from your daydreams and ask him about something, a strange question that he can’t, for some reason, help but think, he feels himself to be… his way of thinking to be stuck in set tracks. He’s unable to imagine, and that’s why it’s such a blessing to have you in his life.

Nozel Silva

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207 notes - Posted March 5, 2022

#2

Helloooo is u doing well? i hope u are

Can i pls request nozel fue william and yuno doing the tiktok corset trend infront of them? thank u

Hiya~! I'm doing very well thank you for asking ^^ Summer vacation started today, and it makes me happy, even if I'm working for the summer

And I’m assuming that this is a request for the s/o doing the corset trend in front of the guys ^^’ And yes, I did need to google what trend this is XD

Pairing: Nozel x f!reader, Fuegoleon x f!reader, William x f!reader, Yuno x f!reader Fanfic type: Headcanons Total length: ~1k Warnings: I suppose this qualifies as suggestive, but it's canon typical content in any case

Tag list for Nozel, Fue, William, Yuno: @lirathy @emiliadekker @axching @the-fuegoleon-fluff

Nozel

Corsets aren’t exactly strange in noble wardrobes in his mind, which is why he doesn’t really think of it as strange one day when you come home with a package that held one. It’s just a garment. There was nothing unusual about it, so he continued sipping his afternoon tea just the same.

He had picked up the habit of having tea with you in your shared bedroom, because it was the one place where you could be in peace and quiet, just the two of you. And since there was more than enough space for it, with the private balcony, couches, tables and so on, there really wasn’t an issue.

It really was your private sanctuary.

But when you asked if he’d give you an opinion on your purchase, he quirked an eyebrow. That wasn’t quite so usual. Normally you got something nice for yourself, and you showed it to him, explaining that you did in fact like it. The days when you asked if something was to his liking, were… well, he would have been lying if he claimed that it was long in the past, but it had only been frequent when you started dating.

That, or when there was an important event where you wanted to make sure that you were presentable enough.

But sure enough he agreed, and continued to sip his tea as you went to change, only to emerge in a skirt and a corset that was your favourite colour, which complimented you so well.

You swayed your hips, as if you were happy with your purchase. And that alone made him smile.

“You look… lovely,” he uttered before lifting the tea cup back onto his lips.

And then… you tugged onto the corset lacing.

That made him draw some of the tea into his airways, and he coughed, trying to get the liquid out.

“I take it that it looks good,” you giggled as he was trying to catch his breath. But the coughing didn’t seem to end. “Are you okay?” You had to ask, to which he nodded.

 He’d be okay, after he caught his breath.

See the full post

237 notes - Posted May 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

259 notes - Posted April 21, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[ciaossu-imagines]

Thank you so much. I’m glad since I feel the same. Reading what you have to say at any time of day is always so great. That’s a really great way looking at it and it really made me smile. Do you still remember who those faves were if you don’t mind me asking?

And of course. It honestly takes a lot for me to fully hate a character and even though I do dislike Hajime’s violent behaviour, it’s not enough to make me full on hate him. And I’m sorry to hear you had to deal with someone like that because yeah, some people really are punchable. I hope you don’t have to deal with him again in the future. Your kindness is really admirable. Even though it also takes a lot for me to become violent, I never feel bad about it (even if I do fail because all in all, I’m not exactly that strong or made for hurting others). It’s kind of satisfying sometimes even just almost hurting someone to me.

Of course. You have so much work to do so it’s totally understandable. And it’s really admirable how much you’ve been able to do and that you’re so close to finishing. And what you said about hearing others talk about their faves just made me smile, it’s so sweet and so nicely worded. And it’s really nice that you can see new things in characters because of that. I’m curious, has anything I said made you think of the characters in any other kind of way? Feel like probably not but still curious. Yes. That’s the scene I always think about when it comes down to Kusanagis powers. I also love sharing it with others because it really is so unique and cool. And I’m saying it as a non-smoker.

Which I absolutely love because reading paragraphs of replies is just my favourite to do in DMs or just on Tumblr. In that case, I also wish you the best of luck in your editing. It’s good to know I’m not alone. It’s kind of reassuring in a way because it lets me know you understand. Yes. That would be amazing. I also had another thought because I’m such a Bandō and Shōhei fan, a proper life story of them. Of course not a full life story but some important bits of their lives here and there. Mainly I want to see how young Bandō was when it came down to Saya because I can just imagine that being so cute (I also sent these questions to a friend of mine that I’ll also add because I’ll forever be curious about these: What made baby Bandou fall for her? How did he act towards her (if he could properly interact with her)? You know, anything that tells me what kind of person he was as a kid apart from Shouhei’s babysitter and saviour)  but I also would have loved to see other moments of their past in anime or even manga form because it really does sound so interesting. And yes to everything that you said at the end. They deserve more love and I’ll eat anything new up (even if it takes me a while because this girl still hasn’t read the last chapters of HOMRA in Las Vegas even though she loved it).

Also, since we’re properly talking and I’m on anon I figured I should sign off with something or another so I’ll just call myself C here. Hope that’s alright.

So with that, hope you have a wonderful day.

C

Aww, thank you very much! That’s really sweet and very flattering! I’m always glad when people like talking to me, especially when they’re interesting people! As far as the favourites, I do think most of them were in Black Cat (Sven and Jenos for sure) and Kekkaishi (Rokurou) and I’ve had that same kind of ‘mine, they love me and only me’ fixations with some KHR characters in my extremely early fandom days…but embarrassing secrets – young fandom me writing Ronin Warriors, Dragon Ball Z, Dream Street, and Harry Potter fic by hand definitely got jealous whenever friends liked the same characters as me because I was like ‘now, they’re mine, they love me and only me’. Like I said, I have a much healthier view of it now, especially since I do tend to lean more towards polyships anyway when I self-ship.

Now I completely get you on it taking a lot for you to fully hate a character, because I’m exactly the same. I love really deep diving into characters, analyzing them, figuring out what makes them tick, how they got to be the way they are, and because of that I can almost always find some reasoning or some kernel of something amazing in the characters, making it very, very rare for me to out and outright hate many characters at all. Even villains, when well done, are terrific characters and I do count some villains among my all-time favourite characters, like Creed Diskenth. And thank you for saying that – unfortunately, part of working in the positions I work in means that I have to deal with a lot of really strong personalities, whether or not I like those personalities. And thank you for the compliment but there is a large part of me that says I don’t deserve your admiration, because honestly…I was a very angry, very violent youth. I could make a lot of excuses – a bad home life, running with a group of kids and people in their early twenties that were definitely bad news (not even joking – we went beyond just being delinquents…), bullied to intense degrees, with untreated mental illnesses, but truth be told, I learned in my teen years how easy it is to do extreme physical harm to someone else and that’s a large part of why I hate being violent or even feeling angry and violent now, because I do hold a lot of shame and regret for who I was back then.

And thank you again for your understanding! I’m actually really damn proud to say that, at this point, with 47 queued posts, every single request besides this is answered, though I admit to cheating a little bit! I’ll be making a post here in a couple minutes regarding that and some writing stuff, including a kind of box opening, but I’m actually really happy about it! And since I know exactly who I’m talking to, I can definitely say that you have said quite a few things in our dm’s that have made me pause and really examine some of the things that you’ve said about some characters, such as Yata and Bandou, that have really made me pause and go…hmm, I never thought about that, I’m going to examine this so I can see where they’re coming from and if I can see that too!

I’m so glad somebody finds my verboseness refreshing! And thank you for the wishes of luck! They’re always needed because honestly, I am the worst at editing my own stuff and proofing it, because I either get too critical and delete a lot of good stuff or I get too attached to things that I know should be able to be cut and would be good to cut. But it’s a bitch to find a good proofreader or beta reader, so I do all my own proofing and editing – just takes longer! And you are definitely not alone in that; honestly, I find it a sign of intelligence because it tells me that your brain is coming up with so many things that it’s hard to remember to get them all down in the rush of writing them down! And you know, it’s really funny you mention that because I remember talking to someone a little bit ago in a dm and them mentioning that they would have loved seeing more of the boy’s pasts with each other and I am so down for that. Bandou and Shouhei as kids and how they eventually drifted apart before coming back together. Chitose and Dewa and how they became friends and how they remained friends. Eric’s past in the gang. Hell, anything about Fujishima’s life other than he has parents he lives with would be cool. Yata and Kamamoto’s relationship. Benzai and Akiyama’s time in the military. Seri’s past in total. More about Kamo’s former life as a chef. How people like Enomoto and Goto got recruited into Scepter 4 and what the hell made Goto the way he is…like, there is so very much material that could be explored when it comes to all these side characters, more than enough to make several spin-off manga or even anime seasons. And I love the questions about Bandou, Shouhei and Saya…honestly, I’m probably going to be thinking about that for a while!

Also, that’s completely alright, so C you will be! I hope you’re having a wonderful night by the way!

[illicitlimerence-writes]

art | m. verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x singer!reader word count: 5.1k words request: yes/no by anons: "hiiii, i really like your fics sm. i was wondering if you could write a fic where the reader is a famous singer who’s dating max. also, fans would always look for her during the races. and every time he would win he would look for her first. you could add more if you like. (i also want to say that you’re one of my fav writers everr, hope you’re doing well!)" thank you so much! i loved writing this and got carried away, oops. & "hi babes 💗 i love your writing, you are so mf talented 🥺 can i request something with max verstappen that's like, soft fluff? just being so in love with each other" yes. yes. i love this. give me soft!max right now. warnings: fluff, language, uhh slight allusions to sexy times? i think? idk it's 3:33 am (satan's hour) and i want to sleep lol. also, there's a lot of narration at one point, then there's none. sorry. a/n: whilst i received these reqs during my 'reqs are closed' era, i just really wanted to write some soft!max. i love him. i would die for him. also, yeah, reqs are still closed, but idec at this point. question, do people even read these? if you do and you got this far, comment a yellow emoji.

my masterlist

(we love fluffy hair max)

flashing lights and people screaming her name were things she was used to. she had completely given up on being able to have a nice meal at a restaurant where no one recognized her, but it was fine, she could handle anything as long as max was by her side.

the pair met during a grand prix weekend, she was invited by the mclaren team to attend a race, and as max was getting ready to get in his car, fifteen minutes before a practice session, he spotted her. she was laughing as daniel walked with her, leading her to his garage. the young woman peeked her head forward, curious eyes darting all over the place as she eyed the mechanics working on the car, the engineers observing data on the screens.

“maximilian!” daniel noticed max, standing with the earpiece in his hand. daniel and his guest waltzed in, the aussie bumped fists with people he knew since back when he still raced for the team.

“that’s not my name,” max ran a hand through his hair, the ashy blonde strands were starting to get a little sweaty from the humidity. “hi, i’m max,” he smiled, bumping his fist against hers.

“i know, you’re all this one has been talking about all day,” she nudged daniel with her elbow. “i’m (y/n),” she smiled at him, her eyes crinkling from the big grin on her face, a sincere one.

“wait…you’re… i know you!” his eyes widened once he recognized the girl standing in front of him.

“really?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“yeah, i… i like your music,” he smiled, cheeks reddening as he admitted listening to the girl’s catchy, well-thought-out songs. “it’s good,” he shrugs.

“thank you,” she smiled, noting the way his eyes were seemingly stuck on her face.

“okay, well, we have to go, i’ll see you out there,” dan placed a hand on max’s shoulder, who nodded.

“good luck out there, i’ll be rooting for you,” she giggled at the shocked face daniel made, eyes widening comically.

“maybe next time you can watch everything from back here. the view is much better,” the words slipped out of his mouth without him noticing, but he didn’t find himself regretting them.

“maybe, you’ll have to step up your game,” she raised an eyebrow, surprised by his bluntness. she smirked, being pulled away by daniel, who had to rush to his own garage. she waved her hand as daniel led her to his designated spot.

the next day, they met again. she’d arrived in the paddock, vip pass hanging from her neck, as well as the pass that gave her access to the mclaren garage, but she was lost. she was usually good with directions, but the crowd of people running around thirty minutes before the qualifying session left her a little overwhelmed.

luckily, as she felt a hand on her back, she felt safe.

“hey, you okay?” she heard, the blue eyes and dirty blonde hair she saw yesterday made her let out a sigh of relief.

“yeah, i-i got lost,” she let out a shaky breath, smiling. “i probably sound so dumb but i forgot the way,”

“hey, it’s okay, it can get quite hectic here,” he gave her a small smile. “it’s this way,” he pointed and took a step forward.

“oh, okay, thanks,” she breathed, “i don’t want to waste more of your time, so, i’m sure i can find my way there,”

“it’s alright. i’d like to make sure you get there alright,” he takes another step, and this time she starts walking as well.

“are you nervous?” she asked, max was wearing his racing suit, although the top was hanging from his hips, the sleeves wrapped around his waist, and she could see his navy blue fireproof shirt.

“excited,” he replied, placing the flat cap on his head. “and you?” he asked in return, “how are you enjoying this traveling circus?” she laughed at his words.

“it’s been amazing, i haven’t been a fan for too long, but now that i’m living a race weekend i don’t know if i’ll be able to go back and watch from home,” she admitted, chuckling.

“well, maybe the next time you come, you could come as my guest,” he spoke casually, but her heart sped up as she tried to keep a straight face.

“really?” she asked, a teasing tone in her voice.

“i meant my offer yesterday,” he nodded, eyes stuck on her. “view is much better from my side of the garage,”

“hmm… i’ll have to think about it. what will people think, if one week i come here with mclaren, and the next i’m spotted supporting red bull?” max chuckled.

“they’ll think you’re supporting the right person,” that made her giggle.

“i’ve been supporting you since the first race i watched,” she admitted, feeling a little heat traveling to her face. her words took him by surprise. “i guess you’re probably tired of hearing it, but you really have a natural talent, a gift, for racing.” her words are sincere, he knows by the way her eyes stay on his, by how her voice doesn’t falter or how she doesn’t fidget with her fingers as she speaks. it takes him a second to respond, and in that second, he notices how they’ve both stopped walking, and are now standing in front of each other.

“thank you,” his voice is barely something more than a whisper, “you are incredibly talented as well. don’t tell anyone, but i almost,” he held up a finger, bringing more attention to his statement, “almost cried the first time i listened to your new album.” she chuckles, feeling her face and chest getting extremely warm, “actually, tell whoever you want, i don’t care if anyone knows. you’re too good at writing music that no one should be ashamed to admit they’re a fan,” he says after a millisecond.

“tell you what… if you can get your first grand chelem this weekend… i’ll accept your offer,” she bites her lip, knowing that even if he doesn’t get it, she’ll still accept anything he suggests. “and you get to pick the race, i’m feeling generous,” she smiled.

“you got it,” he winked at her, “you better start clearing your schedule,”

“oh yeah?” she smirked, raising an eyebrow.

“we’ve got a triple-header after the summer break,”

“and you want me to come to all three?”

“spa and monza are two of the most exciting races, and it’s also my first home grand prix. so, yes.”

“let’s not get too ahead of ourselves here, max emilian,” she made sure to pronounce his name correctly, just because she could. “remember your end of the bargain,” she pointed a finger at him.

“i know. and i’m willing to keep my promise, if you do as well.”

“stubborn, fearless, fiery heart,” she thought out loud, “what other title would you like to have?”

“world champion, grand chelem achiever… your friend,” he listed, shrugging. as if the latter was anywhere near the formers’ league.

she smiled, looking to the side, where she spotted the mclaren garage, but she realized that she did not want to step in. she wanted to stay out there, with max, talking about whatever crossed her mind.

“we’ll see,” she nodded, smiling. “thank you for walking me here, they must be looking for you like crazy,” she chuckled.

“it’s fine, i couldn’t leave you out there alone, lost. but yeah, i guess i must go now.”

“good luck,” she stepped forward, raising to her tiptoes and pressed a soft, quick kiss to his cheek.

“i definitely will need it,” he nodded.

“grand chelem, remember.”

“i know.” he nodded as he took a step back, then another. he didn't want to break eye contact with her. “triple header, remember,”

“i know,” she repeated his words, waving as she stepped into the mclaren garage.

the next day, max started from pole position. he led every lap of the race. he got the fastest lap. and he won the race. she had to clear her schedule for three weeks.

there was no denying the chemistry between them, since that saturday before qualifying people were obsessed with the idea of them interacting with each other.

a like on social media, a comment here and there. people thought that a beautiful friendship had blossomed since that weekend in austria. and it was true, although, that wasn’t the whole story.

they both fell hard, fast, they found themselves talking on the phone until the early hours of the morning, until their voices were raspy from all the laughing, the talking.

they loved each other, truly, deeply. madly. it should be scary, how much they cared for each other. how, despite only knowing each other for a few months, they already were prepared to walk through fire for the other. except it wasn’t scary, it was nothing but honest, unconditional love.

their relationship was the most sacred thing for them, they didn’t want people prying in, and they both knew that their careers came with costs, with privileges they had to give up. but it didn’t mean that they couldn’t have their fun with fans, with the photographers.

they liked to go by unnoticed, so, max would arrive first, wearing his usual uniform. jeans, red bull polo, and his cap. (y/n) liked to play a little. she’d wear wigs, big sunglasses that covered half of her face, sometimes she’d even show up with members of other teams, blending in. once she was in the safety of his driver’s room, she’d burrow her face against his chest, hide in the comfort and warmth of his neck. sometimes, when she was feeling mischievous, she’d take the opportunity to paint his skin, leaving small purple blotches, they were barely visible, they would drive her insane whenever she saw them peeking out from under his fireproof shirt or racing suit.

“how are you feeling?” she asked, watching as he removed his navy blue shirt, she took the opportunity to let her eyes wander over his body. girlfriend privileges. she could stare and ogle all she wanted. bless.

“i don’t know, i just hope the car makes it through the entire race,” he shook his head, trying to fix his hair once he pulled the long-sleeved fireproof shirt. the previous race had been a shocking one, with both cars failing at the end of the race.

“you got this.” she walked to him, grabbing one of his hands and holding it with both of hers, she brought it up to her lips, kissing his knuckles, “that was just the first race, you have this and a ton more,” she reassured him. max nodded. “stubborn, fearless, fiery heart…” she started, knowing that the words of the first song she ever wrote for him never failed to bring him comfort. those words were also the ones that she used that first saturday back in austria.

“a thousand miles can’t tear us both apart,” he finished the lyric, leaning down, pressing his forehead against hers. “i love you,” he said, she smiled, feeling his hands on her waist, she wrapped both of hers around his neck.

“and i love you,” she pecked his lips, knowing he still had to keep most of his focus on the race.

“come down with me?” he asked, still holding onto her, his hands now fully enveloping her back.

“are you sure?” a public outing, as mentioned before, was not something either of them were strangers to. but heavens knew how many pictures the press would take just from the short walk between the hospitality and the garage.

“i need you,” he admitted, his hands traveling up her arms until they were holding gently, but steadily, her face.

“okay,” she nodded, her hands resting on top of his.

“i like your headband,” he said, looking at the shiny stones that reflected the light. “that way i’ll know what to look for in the crowd,”

“i think it might blend in with the flashing,” she laughed.

“no. you shine brighter than all of them combined.” he didn’t hesitate, his voice didn’t falter as he spoke. she felt as if her face was on fire. she helped zip his suit up, letting her hands rest over his chest, staring into his eyes in hopes that they’d communicate everything she was feeling at that moment.

with a tight grip on her hand, he led the way to the garage, he was prepared to shove away anyone who dared step in between them and their destination.

they were untouchable, no one dared to speak to them, but that didn’t stop photographers from taking as many pictures of the pair as they could. they made their way to the garage, hand in hand, head held high. once they stepped into the garage, the red bull mechanics were surprised to see the couple there. they all knew how protective of their relationship they both were.

but it was good for max, it was necessary that he felt her support as much as possible.

she said ‘hi’ to everyone, taking her usual spot by the side of the garage, next to the wall where max’s helmets and the rest of his equipment were. he felt her eyes on him, as he talked to his team principal and then with his race engineer. she didn’t want to disturb his concentration, but she knew he didn’t like it when she strayed too far away, so she always stayed nearby, ready to provide comfort, encouragement, and even make some more bets like the one they made almost nine months ago to help motivate him.

she listened in on the conversations, without noticing, she started nodding when she agreed with what was being said, and when the topics turned back around to something that had already been discussed, she’d let her eyes roam around, finding her own face on one of the screens broadcasting the pre-race coverage. she found the camera, smiling and giving it a small wave. she was certain that countless gifs, screenshots or clips from that small action would pop up all over social media in just a matter of minutes.

max noticed her action, following her line of sight and meeting the camera as well. more content for the fans. since that first weekend in austria, fans became obsessed with the idea of the singer and driver being an item. there was something about a guy like max -with a tough demeanor-, and someone like her -a girl with a delicate way with words-, that drove everyone crazy.

she kept her eyes on max, analyzing his features as he put on his earpieces and balaclava. she smiled at the way his hair, a little bit longer than what he was used to, tried to peek out from the hem at the top of his face. max was quiet, he always was before a race, but she could tell that it was different this time.

“max,” she called his name, he kept going with his routine, grabbing his helmet and placing it in front of him, “max,” she repeated, this time, he turned his face to meet her eyes. “what’s wrong?” she asked.

“nothing,” he spoke quickly as he returned his attention to the helmet. first mistake.

“love,” her voice told him she wasn’t buying it. “fine, if you don’t want to talk, then you’ll have to listen. i don’t know what happened last week, but that’s in the past. if you go into this race feeling like your car is not good enough, if you don’t trust the car, then you know how things will turn out. trust your instincts, trust your team, have faith in yourself. i know how much you want to win, but even if you don’t tonight, you’ll have many opportunities in the future. try and have fun, as well. you’re fighting against guys you’ve known your whole life, you know how they drive, use that to your advantage. do not get frustrated because one race didn’t go well, don’t let it dictate the rest of your season.”

max had never been one to initiate a public display of affection, but she -like always-, had managed to put into words everything he was feeling, everything that was going on in his head. so, he took off the balaclava, his hair sticking up, and he held her chin, directing her lips towards his. it was short, but he poured everything he was feeling inside his chest into the kiss. it took her by surprise, a small gasp leaving her lips after he leaned back.

“thank you,” was all he whispered before putting the white balaclava on again. that was yet another moment when he found himself thankful for her gift of putting into words what most people couldn’t, what most people didn’t notice.

winning a race is a feeling like no other. being the very first person to cross the line, especially when the runner-up is close, is a thrill that never gets old. max had just won his first race of the season, a race that was equal parts stressful and exciting. he couldn’t deny that he was quite scared that the car might fail again, but he remembered (y/n)’s words. trust yourself, trust your car, trust your instincts. so he did. and that led him to the top step on the podium. even though it was a bittersweet win, he knew that this was his teammate’s race to win, but he couldn’t deny that being on top was where he belonged.

as he stepped out of the car, congratulating the two ferrari drivers that would go up to the podium with him, his head was turning from side to side. when he was being hugged and padded on the back by his team, he was counting the seconds until he was free so he could look for (y/n). he was quickly ushered to do the post-race interview, before the podium ceremony, and as he spoke to the interviewer, everyone could tell that his attention wasn’t on the person in front of him, or the words that were leaving his lips. they were speeches that he’d perfected over time, about how tough the race was, how he enjoyed the battles and how much it meant to add another win to his list. he could recite them even in his sleep.

his eyes and full focus were set on finding that shiny headband, for a second, he thought she’d been right. that she would just blend in with the rest of the crowd. but he was determined to find her. max was led to the podium, he had a frown on his face as he walked up the steps, waiting for the two ferrari drivers to go out first. the frown was accompanied by a weird feeling in his stomach, it was taking him by surprise how much not seeing her was affecting him. as his feet touched the top step, he raised his hand, smiling a little as his eyes continued their search for her.

from up there, faces looked blurry, tiny dots that seemed to blur together even though he was trying his hardest to find the person he was looking for. his eyes were darting all over the place, he tried to spot the headband, he couldn’t let her down, he had to find her. as the anthems played, his heartbeat sped up, it even took him by surprise. he saw movement down there, people parting as someone shoved their way in through the crowd. the shiny headband appeared, she was holding on to the fence over the wall, she had two of the red bull mechanics on either side of her, looking after her and making sure she was safe.

max smiled, finally. he let out a sigh of relief just as the anthems finished. the crowd cheered and clapped as the first place trophy was placed in his hand. as usual, he raised his arm, lifting the trophy up in celebration as a true, wide grin made its way onto his face. he placed his free hand on his chest, locking eyes with her. he chuckled as he saw her cheering, cupping a hand around her lips so her loud screaming echoed louder.

the next minutes seemed to fly by after that, max smiled, took pictures, shook hands, and said goodbye to people as quickly as he could. once he was free to go down the stairs and into the garage, he was out of there in the blink of an eye. his hands were tingling as if they were going numb, but it was just the excitement and desperation running in his body. he was taking fast, determined steps to his garage, even though he wasn’t completely sure if that was where he’d find her, but he needed to see her, needed to wrap his arms around her and tell-

“max!” he heard, he turned his head to the side, his steps never faltering, he just prayed that he wouldn’t run into someone. “max!” the voice -her voice-, he realized after a second, called for him again. she was running towards him, at full force, they slammed into each other, her arms pulling him down towards her by his neck, his hands wrapped around her waist, and he hoped she’d forgive him for stabbing her back with the trophy. “you fucking did it. i told you,” she said, hoping he’d forgive her for taking off his first place cap, but she needed to curl her fingers around his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to herself.

“i know. i know. i love you,” she heard, he spoke through his smile, burying his face in her neck as she did the same.

“max, (y/n), let’s move this somewhere more private, please,” they heard max’s press officer, felt as she tapped their shoulders in hopes of getting them to let go of each other. that didn’t happen, though. instead, they held on tighter. “ugh, fine, but if you fall it’s not my fault,” they started walking, blindly, being guided by the red bull press officer. max lifted his head from (y/n)’s neck a little, so he could see where he was going, he didn’t want her to get hurt.

once they were in the garage, max walked straight to the back, thanking the walls that now separated them from everyone else.

“i love you.”

it didn’t matter who said those words first, all that mattered were the way they clung to each other, how she lightly scratched his scalp and neck with her nails as she curled her fingers around his hair, how he was afraid that he might leave marks on her waist from how tight he was holding her waist.

“i knew you could do it,”

“i know,” max smiled.

“i told you,”

“you did,”

“i love you,”

“i love you, too.”

for someone who always knew how to express her feelings, who always managed to come up with compelling, well-thought-out sentences, she was finding it difficult to summarize everything she was feeling into words. so, she hoped, for once, that her actions could speak louder than her words.

a kiss. holding onto him. pressing her forehead against his. grabbing his hands and kissing his knuckles. seeing the way his eyes lit up, feeling the way his breath seemed to tremble as she trailed her fingers on his cheeks.

“guys, remember you’re still in public.” someone shouts, making them chuckle as they lean back, “max, hate to break this up, but you’re needed right now,”

“five minutes,” he yelled back, (y/n) was shaking her head.

“go,” she said, even though she made no effort to step away from his hold.

“they can wait,”

“max! don’t make me come in there,” they both laugh at the press officer’s words, threatening them as if they were teenagers.

“go,” (y/n) repeated, standing on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his lips, “i’ll be waiting for you,”

“okay,” he replied, kissing her soft cheek. he kept an arm around her shoulders, feeling her sliding hers around his waist.

“you two owe me a fucking beer after this,” the press officer said, shaking her head, “i’m going to let you two deal with the pda stuff on your own, don’t count me in,” she said.

“fine. heat of the moment. we’re in love. end of story.” max replied, shrugging his shoulder as if it were no big deal. he noticed how (y/n) was still holding his cap, gently he grabbed it from her hold, adjusting the velcro strap and he placed it on her head. she smiled, closing her eyes as she felt his lips on her cheek.

“jesus, what happened to you two being private? okay, you do that. see how it plays out,” the way the public relations expert was shaking her head let them know that they might need to come up with a better explanation. they arrived at the media pen, max reluctantly let go of (y/n), kissing her temple one last time before walking away. she leaned back against a wall, running a hand through her hair as she smiled, watching him stand in front of the first interviewer.

the paddock was packed with people, and as much as she tried to blend in with the background, she’s still a famous singer and it was only a matter of time before she was approached by fans.

she dedicated her time to each of them, taking pictures, asking how they were, and signing stuff. she spent a little more time with a young girl who asked her to sign a cap that had already been signed by max. she smiled, seeing both of their signatures together.

after max was finished, they all headed back to the motorhome, max was still being congratulated by people that passed by. she snuggled her head against his chest, feeling the comforting warmth against her skin.

“good thing i went down there today,” she admitted once they were in the safety of his driver’s room, “i would’ve hated myself if i hadn’t been here with you,”

“that’s okay, my love. thank you for being here, and for your words. i really could not have done this without you. this win is yours as much as it is mine,” he said, she smiled. no matter how much time passed, he could still make her heart beat as fast as the car he drove. “i owe you this win.”

“it’s okay, we’re a team. when you feel down, i’m always going to be right there cheering you up, if you need space i will step back, but not too far away because i know you don’t really like being alone. your highs are my highs and your lows are my responsibility to turn them into highs. we’re in this together, baby,” she said, wrapping her hands around his back, pushing his front against hers.

“i really couldn’t have asked for anything better,” he shakes his head, feeling so incredibly lucky to have her by his side.

“me neither.”

the next morning, they woke up to thousands of social media notifications. their little moment was captured by all cameras, they were the talk of the town. it was sort of nice, having pictures of their moment, seeing how in love they looked, how their happiness was evident on their faces.

her favorite one was a picture of max holding her, his fingers on her waist, that held her with such strength and delicacy at the same time. it hadn’t even registered to her that he was holding the trophy at the same time as he held her. she wasted no time in setting it as her wallpaper on her phone, she never thought that she’d be the type of person to have a picture of herself as their lockscreen picture.

“this looks pretty,” she heard max’s raspy morning voice.

“what?” she asked, turning to look at him. they were both sitting up, she was holding the bedsheets up to her chest, covering her otherwise nude figure.

“this,” he leaned in, moving her hair away from her neck, he ran a finger across the skin. “it’s like a painting,” he kissed her cheek. removing the covers off his body as he walked to the bathroom. she opened her front camera, seeing the hickeys scattered all over her neck, collarbone, and behind her ear. she smiled, covering her face with her hand. he was incorrigible.

“paint my body with your kisses, don’t tear me up to pieces,” she hummed. smiling she opened her notes app, typing what she’d just come up with. “let them know i’m only yours, this love is only ours,” she continued typing, once max came back, he saw her with an adorable frown on her face as she tapped on her phone, typing and deleting.

he slid in beside her, throwing an arm around her shoulders as he let her continue.

“you’re writing a song about me?” he smiled, it was a feeling he still was not used to, he found it extremely odd how she could tell a wonderful story with her music, which was based on things he said or did.

“yes, another one,” he read what she was writing. “this one’s a bit forward,” he noticed. most of her previous songs were more laid back, none of them went deep into details about their relationship, but she always tried to come up with things that most people could relate to. by the looks of it, this was going to be a completely different story.

“it is,”

“i like it,” he confessed, kissing her shoulder.

“really?” she asked, turning her head.

“i like everything you do, and i’m not just saying that. you are my favorite person in the planet, but that doesn’t stop me from being able to appreciate good art. and yours, my love, is the greatest art that’s ever been created on this green earth,”

it takes her a moment to register what he just said.

“max, that’s the greatest compliment i’ve ever received,” her eyes were slightly wide, mouth parted as she saw him. her mind was going a million miles per hour, still thinking about the next verse for the new song, still reeling from the great joy he made her feel. “let me be your canvas, your lips will be the brush, and with a single touch, you make my body blush,”

“you’re a genius,”

“and you’re a co-writer for this song, now, mister.”

“as long as it’s with you, i’ll write a million more. i'm ready to make more art with you.”

[thecontumacious]

uwaaa omg your writing skills are good! god bless i found another one writing for njsj's luxiem ; w ;

if it's not too much of a bother, may i request an artist/graphic designer reader x ike?

i haven't really thought much about it, but it's along the lines of them being a duo (like ike mixes and reader provides the graphics for the project usually).

thank you so so much! (i really loved your bf hcs hahaha)

- cookie anon

Of Songs and Bravery

pairing: Ike Eveland x Artist!GN!Reader

a/n: hi cookie anon!! let me be real with u for a good minute here. i had a bit too much fun with this fic bcs this turned more like a slow burn that it should've been fluff in the initial plan :DD i hope u enjoy it as much as i had fun writing it! i'm in tears rn

i wanna dedicate this to both cookie anon for the lovely idea and my proofreader best friend who is down bad for ike and an artist herself. props to yall for providing so much support!! <3

disclaimer: everything i wrote in here is 100% mine btw! you'll see why i said that after u read it all :3

Ike Eveland [NIJISANJI EN]: hey y/n!

y/n l/n: hey, ikee what’s up?

Ike Eveland [NIJISANJI EN]: remember that new song i’ve been telling u about?

y/n l/n: yeah?

Ike Eveland [NIJISANJI EN]: it’s completely done now

y/n l/n: oh cool!! great work!! do you plan on publishing it like u did with ‘this nightmare of a tale?’

Ike Eveland [NIJISANJI EN]: that’s what i wanted to talk to u about

Ike Eveland [NIJISANJI EN]: can i commission u again to make the music video?

y/n l/n: ofc!! i’d be happy to work with u again, ike!

you and ike have actually been friends for a while, a little before he debuted even

the one most important thing that drew him to you was your impeccable art skills

your ability to weave together lines and colors so harmoniously, all to produce a single piece of art that can covet so many different emotions

and we all know how big of an appreciation ike has for good art

in fact, your natural artistic talents is what made him fall in love with you in the first place

ike was sure when he first met you, it was just mere admiration for your work

however, the more he frequently met up with you, seeing past your beautiful artwork, he begins to realize the artisan behind it was even more beautiful

your gentle nature, your firey passion, your determination and dedication to your craft, your attitude towards the world, your mutual interest in the art field

there was nothing about you ike would ever change

and there he was, what started as a simple admiration, to a silly crush, to an uncontrollable amount of affection he couldn't hold back

he was gonna burst if he didn’t do anything about it rly

but as ike sat there, half listening to you ramble about an annoying commissioner, he is being eaten alive by the thought of losing you

the thought not being able to listen to you complain about your early stage of kyphosis (relatable asf), a wonderful and supportive fan, the difficulty of one particular commission

your smiles, your laughs, your messages asking about his day

was relaying his feelings for you worth it?

he could very well lose you and there will never be another you to fall in love with

yeah… no

but it became harder for him to deal with you always dropping by his house, either to simply hang out or talk about collaborating on a new project

“it’s inevitable, i suppose,” ike thinks to himself, rubbing away at his face as he once again caught himself daydreaming about you

continuation utc!

y/n l/n: omfg

y/n l/n: this song is so good tskr??????

Ike Eveland [NIJISANJI EN]: awe thank you y/n you’re so sweet

y/n l/n: i can totally work with this its soooo good

Ike Eveland [NIJISANJI EN]: that’s good to hear! good luck!

Ike Eveland [NIJISANJI EN]: like before, u can ask me anything about the song or anything else about the project

y/n l/n: ofc! let’s start with what meaning you want to tell here

y/n l/n: then i can start from there^^

hoo boy

here’s the thing, y/n

with the recent years, ike’s tendency to just think about you every waking moment getting worse, it becomes a bit too much

he had to word it out

not to you of course, that’d be disastrous

so what does he do?

he writes

he pours his heart out, about the nights where he stayed awake thinking, and about the times where he manages to sleep and only dreams of you instead

about the moments where he can hold you freely, where he can place a chaste kiss on your forehead to just express how precious you are to him

and even before ike could realize it, the clock shows him the numbers of the late hour

and the notes before him, his feelings sprawled out in his handwriting in a form of a poem

well, it was a poem that early morning of 1 am, it slowly became a song over the next few days though

“i’m doomed, i swear,” ike sighs, looking at his sheet notes and the lyrics above it

but he was glad

he was somewhat proud of himself for having able to finally word and sort his feelings out like this

although he couldn’t exactly send these words to you, perhaps he didn’t have to directly

so, ike decides to make it his new project

and he plans to post it to his youtube as a another original song of his

one, for the growth of his channel but most importantly, to get that indirect closure

in a way, he would be saying to the world how much he loved you

much like sending a letter to no one, without ever knowing who the recipient may be

it was slightly pathetic, yes, but… ike was okay

Ike Eveland [NIJISANJI EN]: it’s about… well, it’s rly straight forward isn’t it?

Ike Eveland [NIJISANJI EN]: it’s about a boy who wants to confess his feelings to the one he loves, but never rly had the courage to do so

Ike Eveland [NIJISANJI EN]: he’s scared he’s going to lose them if he says the truth so he just stays quiet

Ike Eveland [NIJISANJI EN]: he stays in the shadows and keeps wondering what could be

Ike Eveland [NIJISANJI EN]: and there he is with his unrequited love

y/n l/n: god fuck ike that’s too sad you’re tearing me apart T-T

you’re tearing him apart goddammit

“don’t you ever notice?” ike whispers to himself. “just… how much happy i am when i’m around you? how i wish i can just stay with you all the time without worrying you’d slip away?”

he’s both angry and sad

he’s so irritated by the fact you just don’t give him what he wants, that you poison him with such uncertainty

but he had no right to lash out on you either

ike would kill himself before he ever made himself do that

yet there you were, continuing to ask questions about the songs and the meanings he wants to portray so you could integrate it into your work

of course, like any good artist would! it was only natural that you asked as many questions as possible right?

ike understood that and now that he’s thinking about it, enlisting your help might’ve been a mistake

“oh dear me,” ike groans as he finally logs off discord from the mental torture

but he simply couldn’t resist

he loved what you did with his first video and with every artwork you release, be it of your own accord or the collaboration with other people, ike craved to see more

art was the amalgamation of one’s self, wasn’t it? looking at yours made him feel closer to you

how ridiculous it truly was

you were creating art unknowingly about yourself as well

y/n l/n has sent a file.

y/n l/n: okay ike, here’s my initial character designs and drafting for the entire video

y/n l/n: it’s super rough so it can be vague, so feel free to ask anything

ike opens said file, and like other works he’s seen, he’s once again baffled

even though they’re very simple and even messy lines of vague shapes, he can see the flow of the story

he can read how the characters will move about and narrate his song

ike falls again with every swipe of a new frame draft

one of the characters you designed he noticed was meant to be him it seems and the other…

in his mind, it was supposed to be you obviously

but why had you drawn it so very ambiguously unlike his own avatar?

Ike Eveland [NIJISANJI EN]: hey y/n is the other character not done yet?

y/n l/n: oh yeah

y/n l/n: i couldn’t think of a design straight up so i just went with a very simple shape, then i’ll just go along if i get any ideas

y/n l/n: are u okay with being the mc btw? i can always think of another design

Ike Eveland [NIJISANJI EN]: no no it’s absolutely alright! u can keep it

Ike Eveland [NIJISANJI EN]: and as for the drafting, it looks wonderful so far. i love it

Ike Eveland [NIJISANJI EN]: i can still see the fluidity between scenes and even tho it’s very vague and i might be biased

Ike Eveland [NIJISANJI EN]: i can see the story very clearly, great work!

y/n l/n: aweee thanks ike!!

of course, art can’t be rushed

but how will you interpret the other person ike wonders?

will you purposely draw it very vaguely?

will you design it in a very specific manner? meant to hint at a person?

would you ever draw the other character as yourself?

ike shakes his head

“no, no way,” he sighs. “but… i can always ask them to do that? it’s my project after all…”

but then you’d find out

“yeah, never mind.”

it had been a few weeks since, with great progress every time you or him mentioned the project

during calls, ike can tell how much of your passion is overflowing as you spoke about the designs or the illustration making so far

and it hurts him to know how you have yet to notice

it might just be him, but he’s been losing more and more sleep the more he thinks about the project and you altogether

ike might as well be digging a hole for his own grave

even the quilldren has started to notice with his shorter streams

“hey, ike?” you called out as you laid sprawled out on his couch

“hm?” ike hums, raising his head and stopping in the middle of his work to pay attention to you

it was another regular day of you dropping by his house, resting for the week before it began again

“have i ever told you that your song is what i’m going through too?”

what?

ike places down his quill, now properly looking at you as his heart continued to sink. “no, you haven’t.”

you laugh, not out of amusement but… bitterness. “well, i am. i’ve been listening to it so much because of the project. i’m not getting bored of it, of course not. but… i’ve come to realize just how much the main character reminds me of myself.”

you raise your hand up out of spite, wiggling your fingers around in the air

“i’m scared. i’m scared of losing them. i wanna tell them how i feel, but… yeah, i’m so worried that i’ll only scare them away,” you drop your hand again and look at ike

them? ike thought

in the slight glimmer of the room’s light, he can see your eyes glossing over and a great pain tugs at his heart upon sensing your distress

and despite the raising questions in his head, he gets up, a little too quickly as he approached you

he sits on the floor facing where you lay on his couch with the most hurt frown on his face upon seeing your sorrow

“hey, are you okay?” he gently asked you

“i wish i could tell them, ike,” the tears finally spill from your ears as you hiccup. “how much i love them. it’s killing me inside.”

i wish i could too

but there you were, pining over someone else that wasn’t him

as much as you were hurting, ike was torn apart inside as well

how he could aid someone who was hurting when he himself was broken?

what should he say???

“h-hey, i’m sorry you’re going through this right now. and i hate knowing my song triggered these feelings,” ike reached for your hand as he rubbed them softly. “do you want to take a break from the project? you don’t have to rush anything, i promise.”

you sniffled, wiping away a tear. “no, i’ll be fine. i just got carried away there. i can still work.”

but the pain was still evident in your eyes and no matter what you said, ike wasn’t going to let it go

“y/n,” he grips your hands tighter, making you stop to look at him. “i don’t want to see you hurt yourself like this. if you really are tired, tell me. i absolutely don’t mind. i value your health and happiness over everything else.”

i just value you as a whole person. you’re so important to me, y/n. why can’t you see that?

silence clouds over the two of you and all ike could hear was the wild beating of his heart

… had he said too much?

“mm,” you nod your head, spilling a few more tears with a tired smile. “maybe you’re right.”

okay he was in the clear.

“see? it never hurts to rest a bit. don’t push yourself, okay?”

“can i have a hug?” you mumble shyly

ike chuckles, opening his arms. “of course you can.”

you giggle and collapse into him

ike lets you nuzzle into his chest and his heart, though still uncertain, is at peace. because here you were, in his arms and well protected by him

and that smile he never wants to see disappear

“it’ll be okay,” ike tells both you and himself as he pats your head down

but it doesn’t

with your break, ike understood as to why you had to be quiet and been contacting him less and less

the project was a relatively long term assignment so it must’ve taken some toll on you

but how is it with you being silent, not asking questions about the song making him feel worse?

during streams, he’d often get lose in his own thoughts

were you okay? were you avoiding him really because of the break? were you still in a bad place?

who was this other person you wished you could confess to?

was there a chance it could be him?

he’d be gaming and continuously lose, always because of lack of focus

at first, chat thought he was just super bad at the game he was doing or if he’s just not feeling it today

but as he continues to randomly be quiet in free chat streams and other games throughout the week

chat was beginning to suspect something was terribly wrong

most times, the only way to bring him back would be to send him a super chat that could alert ike

“o-oh, sorry guys,” he’d apologize, shaking his head and continuing what was meant to happen that stream

it gets so bad that the quilldren resorts to calling other nijisanji members

“mysta, ike needs your help? what’s wrong with ike, chat?”

“milord, ike is in danger. oh no what’s going on?”

or whoever it was that was live with him at the same time

they’d notice after ike didn’t read their messages and have to alternatively call him on discord

“ike, buddy are you okay?”

“i-i’m fine! sorry to have bothered you guys…”

and ike never fails to feel bad for having his co workers and own audience snap him out of it when he should be doing his job

“ike, maybe you should take a break from streaming for a bit,” vox advises him one day on a discord call they had

at that time, it had gotten pretty bad with the streams being worryingly too short and him zoning out every ten minutes

“no, i’ll be fine. i just… haven’t been focusing enough.”

“is something wrong? bothering you?”

yeah

“lack of sleep i guess,” ike smiles through his teeth

vox on the other line merely sighs, “then you should get a few days off to get that sleep in. so long as you stream 3 times, you can rest until the end of the week.”

remembering the exact same conversation he had with you a week back, maybe it was for the best

else, he was gonna go insane

“alright, fine,” ike lets out an exhausted sigh, thanking vox for his company before shutting off his devices for the night

but there he goes, opening his phone and replaying his own song over and over again as if he hadn’t been bothered already

it was because of this damn thing he’s like this

it was because of you he’s messing up like this

ike then suddenly hears the doorbell to his apartment ring

begrudgingly, he gets out of bed and gets ready to curse whoever dares disturb him in his depressed state—

“hey ike”

“y-y/n?”

okay okay backtrack all those plans to ask shu for curse spells

“what’s up?” ike asks, scratching the back of his head rather embarrassedly

“i’m starting to notice how off you’ve been this past week,” you say, crossing your arms. “not much like the ike i know. so i wanted to make sure you’re not overdosing on red bull again and eating real meals. move over, buddy.”

despite everything, despite you being the cause of it all, ike still can’t help but laugh. he moves aside to let you charge in

“alright,” you say, plopping down on the couch. “for real, do you wanna start telling me what’s going on?”

and just like that, the mood changes over swiftly

ike isn’t sure whether to tell you what’s been going on

he’s so afraid of the rejection

he’s so afraid he was gonna lose you entirely, scared by his feelings

but all of this is killing and tearing him apart. he’s messing up his job, he’s worrying his friends and worrying you, the last person he doesn’t want to burden

was this it?

was this the moment he had to tell you?

“ike?”

it’s now or never

“y/n, can i ask you something?” ike inquires, his heart thrumming much too fast against his chest

you tilt your head, “hm?”

“what do you think of ‘unrequited’?”

“well, it’s a very beautiful song. the meaning behind it, every single word written like a story. it evokes so much emotion. hell, it made me cry,” you laugh, but ike fails to see how you being in pain amusing. “your voice too, it just helps bring out the story and feelings more. it… brings me comfort, despite the sad story. it’s like having you there with me when i listen to it.”

just go ike eveland

“that… that’s how you make me feel too.”

“huh?”

no turning back now

ike takes a very long breath in, one he wished could summon all the courage in the world before he faces you

“this song, y/n. you make me so happy. when i’m around you, i just want you to stay by my side.”

“i know it sounds selfish, but i just want to make you smile all the time. i want to be able to protect you. i want to be there for you when you’re sad. i want to be the first person you come to when you’re having troubles.”

“this song is about my feelings about you. how i’ve always loved you but never had the courage to tell you.”

hadn’t he originally planned to get the closure he wants from posting the song to youtube?

commissioning you for this project rly was a bad idea huh?

ike sits stiffly, his hands sweating from the anxiety as no one spared a word. not him or you

especially you

confession aside, it all starts coming back to ike

how will you react?

“i-“

but you close your mouth again and ike wonders if he’s made a mistake

you want to say something but once more, you don’t speak it

“y/n?” ike calls out

like walking straight into a nightmare, he sees you stand back up with your things. you frantically pace before turning to ike, clearly avoiding eye contact

“i gotta go! u-uh, rest up well okay? i’ll see you!”

and that was the last thing ike ever heard from you

you never spoke a word to him for the next week, not even about the project and not even to say hi

you could’ve pretended he didn’t say all those things to you and he would’ve been okay with it

“just please, say something, y/n,” ike watches the screen of his phone, his heart pining to see your name in a form of a message or a phone call

but that moment never came

he scared you off, didn’t he? he had lost you for good now

perhaps, it was for the best…?

ike cried that night, you know

sobbing in despair as he tried to deal with the loss of the one person he cared so much about, one he can share his passion and worries with

all because he decided to be brave

“it’ll pass, right?” he hiccuped, wiping away a tear. but he can’t imagine picking himself back up in the next few days

god, he was going to lose his job if he wasn’t professional about it

then, his phone lit up

y/n l/n has sent a file.

y/n l/n: hey!

y/n l/n: so, there’s the final video!

y/n l/n: tell me what u think about it ike

at the speed of light, ike’s tears dry up and he hastily clicks on the file

and there it was

his song

him as the main character

wait

was that you?

in turn with the song, he intensely watches the illustrations flash by, switching in coordination between him and you

were the tears blinding him?

no, that was your signature hair style, your skin color, your choice of outfits!

wait, what did this mean?

ike was so busy being mesmerized by your sudden cameo in the video that he didn’t even pay attention to the music video as a whole

“w-what?”

and the video finally comes to an end

and there’s this gaping hole in his chest, slowly being filled to the brim with something he can’t quite decipher

what the fuck is going on

well yeah ike thinks it’s absolutely amazing! the final illustrations, the typography, the animations, the effects, the storyboarding—EVERYTHING

BUT WHY THE FUCK DID U PUT YOURSELF THERE

y/n l/n: um, u there ike?

Ike Eveland [NIJISANJI EN]: sorry sorry! i’m here

Ike Eveland [NIJISANJI EN]: i’m just… very enchanted by what u did

Ike Eveland [NIJISANJI]: it’s so beautiful and gorgeous, y/n… thank you so much

y/n l/n: i’m just doing my work, ike. it’s rly no problem! you made such a beautiful song so i wanted to do it justice u kno?

like a true artist…

ugh, why did you have to give him a reason to fall in love even after everything that’s happened?

shouldn't he be letting you go?

Ike Eveland [NIJISANJI EN]: no rly it’s so beautiful, the art direction is amazing here

Ike Eveland [NIJISANJI EN]: i might post this in a few days

y/n l/n: oh yeah sure that’s cool! so that’s it then? is that all? do i need to add or reduce anything?

Ike Eveland [NIJISANJI EN]: no, y/n, it’s perfect

y/n l/n: well, if u say so then ike

y/n l/n: im glad i was able to work with you again ike, it’s always such an experience

y/n l/n: thanks for coming to me ^-^

Ike Eveland [NIJISANJI EN]: i only come to professionals, what can i say?

y/n l/n: hehe stop that

and just like that, even in the midst of his cries in the dead of night, he laughs

all because of you

you really were something, huh?

at first, ike thought you just messaged him to send the file

but you were asking about his day and asking if he’s eaten all over again

were things going back to normal? like before he confessed to you?

have you decided to just pretend nothing happened?

whatever the case

ike was glad he hadn’t lost you completely

Unrequited / Ike Eveland [original song]

Premiering now

just like usual, you drop by ike’s house to sit through the premiere together

yes, ike was nervous at first but you were right there next to him

interacting with him normally

though he was a little heartbroken

“there it is y/n it’s going to be live soon!” ike says, grinning

“yeah i’m so excited!! there are like 20k ppl waiting, ike, omg,” you exclaim in return

ike chuckles, “i know right? this is so insane. how do u think it’s gonna go?”

“it’s gonna go amazing ofc!! you did such a good job with the song,” your excited smile sends ike unnecessary butterflies but he tries not to mind it

“aren’t you going to credit urself a bit more? you did a beautiful job with the art!” he smiles. “and everyone loved the work you did on the last original song too. they’re gonna like it more now knowing you did the art, y/n.”

you turn away, evidently flustered, “oh, shut up ike you’re too sweet.”

ike can only smile, simply glad you’re here

you face the screen again and enthusiasm decorates your face, “OH SHIT IT’S LIVE NOW AHHHHHHHHH”

ike turns to the screen of his desktop once more, the first notes of his song coming into play as the title of the song appears, along with all the cast involved

the chat of the premiere rolls wildly with glowstick emotes, blue hearts and an emoji strongly related to you

whatever happened, it’s in the past

what you and ike have may not be what he wanted, but he still has you

and that’s okay

Unrequited

lyrics / arrangement / vocals

Ike Eveland

illust / movie

y/n l/n

~~

his love sealed in letters

his letters hidden away under his bed

when will i ever send it? he wonders

will the words inside ever be read?

he thinks what could be

what he could grasp and what he could lose

the truth he truly wants to set free

but the answer he’s afraid will bruise

~~

he looks up at the sky, tears in his eyes

he asks the world why and to you he cries

~~

love, when will you finally smile at me?

like i’m yours as you are mine?

why is it that your beautiful eyes can’t see?

just how much i want our hearts to intertwine?

i want nothing else than for us to dance together

lost in the music, swallowed by the night

our steps forever unchanged by the weather

and your smile remains eternally bright

~~

he sits with you, smiling at what you say

and he wishes to protect it with his life

but the uncertainty eats him away

his cowardice he curses with strife

“why can’t i just say it?” he screams

“why can’t i look at you and tell you”

“how many times you’ve appeared in my dreams”

but he sighs, crying again, “how i love you?”

~~

once again, he gazes up at universe above

and he confesses to his unrequited love

~~

love, when will you finally smile at me?

like i’m yours as you are mine?

why is it that your beautiful eyes can’t see?

just how much i want our hearts to intertwine?

i want nothing else than to hold your hand

braving storms and fires with each other

even through angry waters and dry land

i’d never imagine doing it with any other

~~

the letters under his bed stay sealed

never to be opened and read aloud

his aching, wounded heart never to be healed

the love in him perpetually under a shroud

he’s still afraid

he’s still a coward

in the shadows he stayed

forever to be overpowered

~~

he wonders if he’ll ever escape it

this darkness a black ever true

he sobs, “my love, i want to quit”

“but how can i stop loving an angel like you?”

~~

love, when will you finally smile at me?

like i’m yours as you are mine?

why is it that your beautiful eyes can’t see?

just how much i want our hearts to intertwine?

i want nothing else than for us to dance together

lost in the music, swallowed by the night

our steps forever unchanged by the weather

and your smile remains eternally bright

love, when will you finally smile at me?

like i’m yours as you are mine?

why is it that your beautiful eyes can’t see?

just how much i want our hearts to intertwine?

i want nothing else than to hold your hand

braving storms and fires with each other

even through angry waters and dry land

i’d never imagine doing it with any other

the end credits roll once more, displaying ike’s and your name as the producers for the music video

by the end of it, ike received a huge amount of support from the fans

piling up in thousands of likes and views on the first day of premiering

but most importantly, he felt like he could finally be at peace with himself

and frankly with you too

“hey, ike?” you call out to him gently

“hm?”

ike turns to face you and he sees you fiddling with your fingers

“about what happened a while back…”

oh, so you haven’t decided to pretend it was nothing

ike takes a deep breath, “yeah, what about it?”

then ike hears an unexpected sniffle from you

“y-y/n?”

“you’re way braver than i am, you know that?” you look up and ike wasn’t mistaken when he thought you were crying

“you made a fucking song about me and then you confessed to me,” you smile. “yet here i am, too much of a coward to confess to you too.”

so

your cameo in the video

that was… meant to respond to him?

“y/n…”

“ike, i’m sorry i ran away that day. i ran away without telling you how i felt. i was too scared by my own feelings and by the time i got home, i thought i was so stupid.”

you inhaled, “but… i’m here to finally tell you. that your love isn’t unrequited. that the person i’ve been wanting to tell i love you to has been you this entire time.”

your hand reaches for ike’s as you look up at him, tears still in your eyes

“you were brave. so… i wanted to do the same.”

ike doesn’t know what to say nor feel

so all that pain and fighting through the dark

it wasn’t for nothing after all?

does that mean that all his dreams would finally come true?

was being brave truly the right choice?

“ike, say something.”

“oh, i—“ ike then laughs, lifting up your hands and up against his lips. he smiles, his own tears finally spilling

this time, it wasn’t out of heartbreak. for the first time, it was of happiness

“ike?”

“i want nothing else than for us to dance together. lost in the music, swallowed by the night,” ike sings in a broken voice, but to you, it sounded beautiful all the same

he continues, “our steps forever unchanged by the weather and your smile remains eternally bright.”

ike’s hands cup your face and everything finally, finally felt alright

for real this time

“i love you.”

DISCLAIMER YES THE SONG IS WRITTEN BY ME

Masterlist!

[ghoulgirlwrites]

Oh Baby, Let Me In

Pairing: Frank Iero x Reader

Era: Bullets

Requested by: Anon

Word Count: ~2400

Summary/Request: if your requests are still open, would you be able to write a frank iero x reader fic in bullets era and the reader is gerard and mikeys little sister and frank likes her but doesn't want gerard and mikey to find out bc they'd get really mad?? (I hope that makes sense lol)

A/N: So sorry you had to wait so long for this, I hope it’s worth the wait! I got a little carried away with this, but I’m really proud of it. Enjoy!

--

You’d just gotten home from your last class of the day, when your older brother, Mikey, ambushed you.

“You’re coming to band practice later today, right?” He asked.

He and your other brother, Gerard, had started a band called My Chemical Romance with their friend Ray. You thought it was kinda cool, but you didn’t want to give your dorky older brothers too much credit.

“Why? I know what you guys sound like,” you whined.

“Well, we’re adding a guitarist, this really cool guy who does stuff Ray can’t do!” Mikey said.

You sighed. “Alright, fine, I’ll go.”

They’d been renting a practice space a few minutes from your house, so after dinner, you all headed there. Ray was already there, talking to…a really cute guy?

The cute guy in question turned fully towards you when he heard you and your brothers come in. His bright hazel eyes locked onto you and his jaw dropped slightly. You self-consciously tucked a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Frank, this is our sister, Y/N. Y/N, this is our new guitarist, Frank,” Gerard said, gesturing between the two of you.

Frank broke out of his apparent stupor to take your hand in his, shaking it lightly.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said.

“You too, Frank,” you said.

“Alright, if you’re done mooning at my sister, can we get started?” Mikey asked, causing you and Frank to blush.

Frank nodded and went over to where a guitar sat in a stand. He picked up the guitar, slinging it around his neck.

Throughout the entire practice, you couldn’t keep your eyes off Frank and it seemed like the same was true for him. He kept his eyes on you pretty much the whole time, even spacing out when someone spoke to him.

When band practice ended, Frank bounced over to you, a grin on his face. “What did you think?”

“You were awesome,” you said. Your cheeks burned as you wondered whether he was asking what you thought about the band as a whole. “I mean…you make my brothers’ band sound halfway decent.” Nice save.

His grin widened, the corners of his hazel eyes crinkling. “Thanks! I think I’m a little less nervous now than when I first auditioned.”

You nodded. “That’s good.”

“Maybe that’s because you’re my good luck charm,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You blushed. “Maybe.”

“Maybe you’ll just have to come to all our practices and gigs so I don’t suck,” he said.

“You won’t suck,” I said.

He tilted his head to the side. “Will you come anyway?”

“Sure, Frank,” you said.

“Y/N, come on, it’s time to go,” Mikey called.

“I gotta go, they’re my ride home,” you said.

“Kay. Bye, Y/N.” He waved at you.

“Bye, Frank,” you said, returning his wave over your shoulder as you walked away.

You climbed into the backseat of Gerard’s car, which was strewn with art supplies.

“Frank seems nice,” you said.

“He is. But stay away from him,” Gerard said, staring at you through the rearview mirror.

You crossed your arms over your chest. “You guys wanted me to meet him so badly, but now you want me to stay away from him? Makes sense.”

“We didn’t think you guys would hit it off,” Mikey said.

“Guys, I’m not twelve, I’m an adult, I’m allowed to flirt with a cute guy if I want to,” you said.

“Yeah, you guys flirt, then date, then he breaks your heart, we break his nose, and then we’re back to looking for a rhythm guitarist,” Gerard deadpanned.

“Well, lucky for you, none of that’s going to happen,” you said.

“If he asks you out, will you say yes?” Gerard asked.

“We just met!”

“Will you?” Mikey probed.

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Well, don’t,” Gerard said.

You groaned, hitting your head against the headrest behind you. There was no getting through to those two. You loved your brothers, really, you did. But they were way too overprotective, especially when it came to you and their friends. It was like they didn’t trust you to hold your own or something. But you’d prove them wrong. If Frank was interested in you, you decided to go for it, and there was nothing Gerard or Mikey could do about it.

--

A week later, MyChem had their first gig with Frank as a member. You’d been to another of their practices, in which Frank flirted with you again, but he was more cautious, as if he too had gotten scolded by your brothers and didn’t want to risk anything. But you couldn’t deny that the forbidden nature of whatever had sprung up between you and Frank made it all the more exciting.

“You nervous?” You asked Frank as he and the others prepared to go onstage.

He grinned. “Not with you here.”

Gerard cleared his throat loudly and you rolled your eyes at him.

The band played an incredible show. You couldn’t take your eyes off of Frank, the way he put everything into his performance. Afterwards, you were hanging out with them outside the venue. It had been warm outside when you’d left the house, so you hadn’t thought to bring a jacket and were now regretting it.

“I’m cold!” You whined.

“Well damn, Y/N, I don’t control the weather,” Mikey said.

“Here, take my jacket,” Frank said softly, shrugging out of his dark blue jean jacket. You’d been admiring it earlier, noticing it was covered in pins. He draped the jacket around your shoulders and you gratefully shoved your hands into the sleeves, ignoring the looks Gerard and Mikey were giving you. The jacket smelled like smoke and coffee.

“I like your tattoo,” you said, brushing your fingers against the anchor above his right elbow. His skin erupted in tiny goosebumps beneath your fingertips.

He bit his lip, looking down at your hand as his cheeks turned red. “Thanks. I’m planning on getting a Black Flag symbol soon. I really like them.”

You felt your eyes light up. “Me too!”

He grinned and looked down again. That was when you noticed that your hand was still on his arm. Worse, Mikey and Gerard had noticed and didn’t look happy. You hastily brought your hand back down to your side, blushing just as red as Frank.

--

A few days later, Gerard and Mikey had dragged you to another band practice, although you were more than happy to tag along this time since it meant you got to see Frank, even though it also meant Gerard and Mikey would be watching you like hawks.

Once again, you were captivated watching Frank play his heart out. It also seemed like he couldn’t keep his eyes off you either. Sometimes you’d catch his gaze, making you both blush and look away momentarily.

After practice was over, everyone was standing around talking. Frank headed towards you, grinning. He brushed past you and you felt his hand near your hip, slipping something into your jacket pocket. You looked up at him and he winked, putting one finger to his lips, which were still curled up in a mischievous smile. He turned to talk to Ray, who was standing a few feet away from you.

You glanced around to make sure Gerard and Mikey weren’t watching, since you weren’t quite sure what Frank had put in your pocket and you had no idea how they’d react if they saw it. Thankfully, they were busy talking to their drummer, so you carefully extracted the object from your pocket.

It was a cassette tape with a note taped to it.

Dear Y/N,

I made you this tape because I really like you, but I knew I couldn’t say anything because Gerard and Mikey are already on me about it, so this is a close substitute. Some of these are songs I know we both like, some are songs I think you’ll enjoy, and some are my own songs that I may or may not have written with you in mind. I hope you like everything!

XOFrnk

You read the track listing he’d written out, finding songs from Thursday, Misfits, and Black Flag, among others. Then there were two songs listed that you weren’t familiar with: All I Want Is Nothing and She’s the Prettiest Girl At the Party and She Can Prove It With a Solid Right Hook. You figured those were the songs Frank had written and it made your heart flutter that he felt comfortable enough to share them with you. You slipped the tape back into your pocket, smiling to yourself, and began counting down the minutes until you could go home and listen to the tape.

Later that night, you put the tape on and lay in your bed while you listened to it, smiling at Frank’s choices. He’d been right, you did like the songs he’d picked with you in mind. Then you got to the songs he’d written. You couldn’t help but nod along, smiling so hard that your cheeks ached a little. You couldn’t believe how sweet his songs were, but you could, because he was a sweet boy. And of course, you knew you liked him too. As the final notes of She’s the Prettiest Girl faded out, leaving you in silence, you resolved to do something to show Frank that his feelings were returned. Who cared what Gerard and Mikey had to say?

--

The band had another gig, so of course, you went along. You could tell Gerard and Mikey were a little suspicious of you, since you didn’t used to be this enthusiastic about the band, but you were past the point of caring. You were also excited because you had a plan to tell Frankie how you felt about him and tonight, you were going to set that plan in motion.

As you all packed into the van to travel to the venue, you slipped Frank a note, much like he’d slipped you the tape. He looked at you, his eyebrows furrowed, but you just smiled and shook your head. The note read, “Don’t go into the venue right away when we get there. I have something to tell you. XO Y/N.” You hoped he’d read it before it was too late and would wait outside for you.

When the van arrived at the club where the gig was at, the others all piled out of the van to help the crew bring in equipment. You pretended to be looking for something in the backpack you’d brought with you and you heard Frank assuring the others he’d be right there, he just needed a smoke. Thankfully, none of the others decided to join him and soon, it was just the two of you.

You hopped out of the van and stood in front of Frank, who was sitting on the hood. Now that you were alone with him, his piercing hazel eyes on you, you were at a loss for words.

Frank sighed. “Look, Y/N, if you’re about to say you don’t see me that way, or that we should just be friends, or something like that, can you just get it over with? This is killing me.”

You didn’t respond. Instead, you took a deep breath and crushed your lips to his. He froze for a moment, clearly stunned, but then he returned the kiss, snaking his arms around your waist. You noticed immediately how well the two of you fit together.

Gerard’s voice broke through the haze of the moment. “Hey guys, I was just wondering--what the fuck?!”

You and Frank jolted apart as if electrocuted and immediately turned towards Gerard. One of Frank’s hands still lingered on your hip and you could feel him shaking. You grabbed his hand and held it in yours.

“Frank, what the fuck?” Gerard asked.

“I’m sorry, I--”

Gerard cut him off, his face growing red. “I specifically told you not to go there.”

“I didn’t--” Frank began, but Gerard cut him off again.

“She’s my sister!”

Frank squeezed your hand. “Yes, and she’s the most amazing girl I’ve ever met.” You glanced at Frank, noticing the fiery look in his eyes.

“She’s also standing right here,” you said.

Frank glanced at you, his eyes wide in fear, as if afraid that he’d overstepped.

You sighed. “Frank, go inside. I’ll handle this.”

He frowned at you, not moving.

“Go!” You said, letting go of his hand.

He glanced between you and Gerard for a moment, a stricken look on his face. But then he seemed to decide it was better to let you deal with Gerard and reluctantly went inside. You and Gerard both watched him go. Once you could no longer see Frank, you turned to Gerard.

“Listen, I really like him and I know he really likes me, but he didn’t wanna act on it because he was afraid of what you’d do to him. Please, just let me have this,” you said.

Gerard sighed, looking down at the ground for a moment, then back up at you. “You’ll let us know if we need to kick his ass?”

You snorted. “I don’t think you could even if I asked, but sure.”

He rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Shall we go in and tell Frank he gets to live another day?” You asked.

“Sure,” he said and the two of you went into the club.

You went over to where Ray, Mikey, and Frank were waiting. Frank still looked terrified for his life but you went over to him and took his hand. Mikey glared at the two of you, but you shook your head, glaring back.

“Frank?” Gerard asked.

Frank gulped. “If you’re going to beat me up, can I at least have a ten second head start?”

Gerard chuckled. “I’m not gonna beat you up, it’s fine.”

Mikey raised his eyebrows at Gerard.

“Really?” Mikey and Frank asked in unison.

“Yes, really. I guess if Y/N’s gonna date someone, it may as well be someone we already like,” Gerard said.

“Wait, date?” Ray asked, looking between you, Frank, Gerard, and Mikey. “Jeez, no one tells me anything!”

“Thanks, guys,” Frank said, looking much more relaxed.

“C’mere,” you said, pulling him into you. He eagerly leaned in to kiss you, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“Okay, throwing up now!” Mikey said.

You ignored him, as everything around you melted away. All you knew was Frank’s arms around you and his lips on yours. And that’s exactly how you wanted it.

[loverhymeswith]

I LOVE the Takeshi Private Detective AU fics! I was wondering if maybe you could do one where his assistant reader gets kidnapped by someone relating to a case and he’s goes a little feral to get them back and when he does rescue them they’re kinda surprised at how caring and protective he’s being?

Home | Takeshi Kovacs x Reader

People Disappear Here

Word Count: 1,519 words

Warnings: Kidnapping, injury, gunfire, bullets, blood, death

A/N: Thank you for the request, Anon! I loved this so much I had to write it straight away. It turned out to be much longer than I intended. I hope you enjoy.

Joel Taglist:@weallhaveadestiny @a-reader-and-a-writer @skvatnavle @babblydrabbly @yespolkadotkitty @heresathreebee @11thstreetvigilante @fairchildflag @christinasyellowflowers @immyownlittlebitch @lavenderluna10

Tipping your head back against the cold, damp wall of your makeshift cell, you sigh into the darkness. This was never supposed to happen. Kovacs is going to kill you. At least, he will if these men don’t beat him to it.

Your thoughts have been persistently circling around the private detective for the duration of your imprisonment. How many times has he cautioned you against poking your nose into certain cases? About sniffing around without him there for support - for protection. For the most part, you’d listened, had heeded his multiple warnings, sticking to the work he assigned you. But not today. Today, the itch – the intrigue - had grown too strong to ignore.

The lead you’d stumbled upon was simply too good – too hot – to wait for Kovacs to return from his own investigation. Because the clock was ticking, and you knew that timing could be critical. Poe hadn’t been around to talk you out of it, either. So, you’d locked up the office and set out to explore the docks, naively assuming that it couldn’t hurt to take a quick look, right?

As it turns out, it did hurt. Quite a bit, in fact. Someone had swiftly taken you out with a blow to the head before you’d even made it past the first shipping container. You regained consciousness some time later, only to discover that you’d been locked inside one of the damn things, all alone in the dark.

Your cell phone and camera had been seized, leaving you with no mean of contacting Kovacs or the rest of the outside world. You’d hammered away against the solid metal walls of the container, screaming and hollering for someone to let you out until your voice was hoarse and your fists were bloody. But there was no sign that anyone was listening. No one came.

Eventually you’d given up, slumping into the corner and nursing your throbbing headache, which is where you find yourself now. With nothing to do but wallow in shame and self-pity, you’ve been imagining how your conversation – or perhaps more accurately, your confrontation- with Kovacs will play out, if and when he ever finds you.

Oh, he’ll be pissed, that’s for sure. He might even fire you. The thought sends a wave of fear rushing through you, even more so than your current state of incarceration. You can’t afford to lose this job. Not when it seems as if Kovacs is finally starting to tolerate you. You suppose that will all change now, though.

Your eyes have slowly begun to adjust to the low lighting, but it’s impossible to tell how much time has passed when the gunfire and shouting begins. You can hear bullets pinging off the metal containers and your first thought is to wonder at your rotten luck. Getting caught in the crossfire of some small-time gang rivalry seems a fitting way to top off an already shitty day. You consider shouting for help again, but there’s no telling what might be waiting for you on the outside.

Then you hear his voice.

“Where the fuck is she?”

A shiver runs along your spine, turning your blood to ice, and it’s not the result of your cold, rudimentary cell. His tone is clipped, unyielding. The assurance of death, sudden and unrelenting, clings to every syllable. If he wasn’t here to liberate you, you’re certain you would be quaking in your boots. You don’t need to see Kovacs’ face to picture his expression. You’ve glimpsed the promise of violence lurking behind his hazel eyes more times than you can count, only it’s usually you or Poe who are on the receiving end.

More shouting and another shot fired. Then, silence. Until you hear heavy booted footsteps approaching the container. Your heart thumps wildly in your chest, despite knowing for certain who and what lies on the other side of your cell. Freedom. Retribution.

The door is wrenched open. Temporarily blinded by the light, you blink furiously until the world comes back into focus. Standing there in the entrance, gilded by the setting sun at his back, framing him like some kind of avenging angel, is Kovacs.

You can’t help yourself. His name escapes your lips in a short sharp gasp of relief. “Tak.”

He prowls inside, his long coat billowing after him as his harsh gaze sweeps over you. “Are you ok?” The ferocity that had been so clear in his voice only moments ago has given way to something else. Something that sounds suspiciously like fear.

You touch your fingers to the back of your head as he approaches, wincing as they come away bloody. “Think I’ll live.”

Kovacs holds out his large hand and pulls you to your feet with ease. “What were you thinking?” he murmurs, straightening you and brushing the dirt off your jacket in a surprisingly gentle gesture. “You could have been killed.” It’s unnerving how there’s still no anger in his tone.

“I guess I wasn’t thinking, not clearly anyway,” you admit, preparing yourself for the lecture that is sure to follow any minute now. You’ve had plenty of time to stew, to accept that your actions might have been on the foolish side. Kovacs wasn’t trying to treat you like a child when he told you not to meddle. He knows more than most just how dangerous this city is. You understand now that he didn’t want you to get hurt.

“How did you find me?”

His hand remains in place, curved softly around your elbow, when he replies. “You left the files out on my desk. Wasn’t too much of a stretch.”

You nod, making a mental note to be more careful should you ever need to hide anything from him in the future. “I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”

Kovacs’ lips quirk into that now-familiar ghost of a smile; the one that sets your nerves alight. “That’s one word for it.” His eyes sweep over you, assessing you one last time. Satisfied that you're ok, he hands you your cell phone and camera. You’re amazed to find them in one piece. “C’mon, let’s go home.”

Home.

The word sounds so inviting on his lips. You wonder if he has any idea of what it means to you. That as far as you’re concerned, for a long time now, your home has been wherever he is.

Kovacs ushers you out of the container, a broad hand splayed against the small of your back. It’s entirely unnecessary, you want to tell him. You’re perfectly capable of walking by yourself, but a small part of you hopes he doesn’t remove it. The weight and warmth of his touch is a comforting presence and although you’ll never admit it, you had been terrified, all alone in the dark.

It’s impossible to miss the scattered bullet casings and the bloodstained asphalt. Fallen bodies block your path as Kovacs leads you away from the docks, and you know that you should be horrified. That he has slaughtered the men here in cold blood, because of you. But you can’t find it in yourself to be afraid. Not of him. Never of him.

He halts before you reach the car, turning you around to face him with his hand gently squeezing your waist. Standing this close, you have to crane your neck up to meet his eye. The longer lengths of his hair have fallen across his brow as he stares down at you and you have to clench your fists, fighting off the urge to reach up and sweep your fingers through them.

When he speaks, there is still no anger in his voice. Just concern. “Promise me you won’t do anything like this again.”

Somehow flustered by the fact that he is yet to admonish you, that there is no sign of criticism or reproach coming your way any time soon, you begin to ramble. “I’m sorry, I know you said not to get involved with these cases and I didn’t mean to. Really, I didn’t. I hope I didn’t mess everything up for you, I just couldn’t-”

He cuts you off by tucking an errant strand of hair behind your ear, his calloused fingers lingering for a moment too long as they brush against your cheek. You freeze, startled by the unexpected action and barely able to breathe.

“It isn’t about the case. It’s about you.” His eyes shutter, thick lashes kissing his skin as he forces out the next words. “Couldn’t bear it if something happened to you.”

The pair of you find yourselves trapped in a tableau, his hand still firmly in place around your waist. It’s unlike him to be so candid. It’s unlike you not to reply with a witty retort. Hypnotised by the intensity of his gaze, you will him to look away first.

In the end, you’re saved by the buzzing of his cell phone. Almost begrudgingly, he pulls it from his pocket, but his eyes crease in faint amusement as he reads whatever is on the screen.

“Poe’s on the warpath. You might want to keep a low profile when we get back.”

[likeastarstar]

The Pianist

(A/N: Thanks to @xjoonchildx and the anon who recommended me to her for this prompt! The pieces mentioned in this fic are what I listened to while writing it, they're beautiful and I recommend them. Feedback is appreciated!)

masterlist.

You didn’t sleep very well most nights.

You didn’t really understand how people just laid down and fell asleep instantly, it just didn’t happen for you. You had tried everything but ASMR creeped you out, Melatonin didn’t work, chamomile tea just made you have to get up to pee a million times. Nothing worked for years- until the apartment above yours got a new tenant.

You weren’t sure when exactly they moved in but you were certain of the day they got a piano.

January 12, 2021: The day you were given the gift of sleep.

At this point, it was apart of your routine. Every night, after showering and brushing your teeth, you’d lay down and listen to soft melodies you couldn’t quite place pouring through your walls.

Now, you found yourself rushing back home in the evening just in case they decided to start playing early.

“Hold the elevator, please!” You called, rushing over to the closing doors.

A hand stuck out to block them from shutting at the last minute and you gave a sigh of relief- you’d be on time now. You rushed into the elevator with a pleased smile on your face, your eyes falling on a man who you could only describe as the most interesting person you had ever seen. Dressed in all black with thick rings around the hand that had stopped the elevator, he should’ve been intimidating. If it wasn’t for the soft slope of his nose and pink doll-like lips, you would’ve turned the other way in fear.

“Oh-“ You said awkwardly, staring at him with wide eyes for some reason. He looked at you awkwardly and smile slightly, pulling his lips into a thine line. His dark eyes blinked slowly, molten mocha peering down at you with mild interest. “Thank you- for the elevator.”

“No problem, you seem like you’re in a hurry.” He said politely, his quiet, deep voice rumbling in your ear comfortably. You found yourself leaning towards him and snapped yourself out of it, pressing your floor’s button quickly.

As beautiful as he was, you got distracted from the man quickly, refocusing on trying to guess what the pianist would choose to play tonight. You left the window cracked just to hear more of the classical sonatas, timing your breathing just right to the pacing of the tunes. As time passed, you grew accustomed to the presence of the music, reading the pianist’s mood by their choice of song.

Reverie, for calm evenings in the summer when your apartment was bathed in golden light, warming your skin. A jazzy rendition of Manhattan when you assumed the pianist had an absolutely wonderful day, sending you off to dream of fluffy clouds and creamy skies. Nocturne No. 1, when they were troubled and you physically had to stop yourself from crying upon hearing the emptiness in the notes that flooded into your ears.

As luck would have it, you stumbled across the man in the elevator again too, crossing paths in the mail room, where he held the door open as you lugged out copious amounts of packages from online shopping. You would’ve tried to strike up a conversation, only it was already dusk and the pianist would start practicing soon.

“You’re always rushing, aren’t you?” He quipped, an endearing smile on his face. You admired the way his cheeks fluffed up a little when he smiled.

“I have plans with a friend,” You excused, naming the pianist as a fond companion. You didn’t want to reveal what you were really rushing for. The pianist felt like your own little secret, a world you could immerse yourself in when real life got too overwhelming.

If only you had known you’d soon lose the one consistent relief of tension in your life. You assumed things in his life had gone south, because after a week of music that tore your soul apart- the music stopped. Gone were your nights of angelic tunes, gone were your nights of sleep.

You waited for him, laid in bed with an antsy heart waiting to hear something, an aggravated smash of keys, a simple chord, even a single note would set you at ease. It had been a week since you had a good night of sleep, your companion suddenly stripped away.

You trudged into the elevator one morning sleepily, barely registering a familiar man standing beside you. Your hands met as both of you rushed to press the ‘close door’ button, the button shocking both of you at once. You jumped in surprise, flickering your eyes towards him sheepishly, “Sorry.”

“Not your fault,” He mumbled. It wasn’t until then that you took in his appearance, slightly disheveled with his hair fluffy and messy. It was bleached now, faded with the roots grown out too far.

The pair of you rode the elevator down in a comfortable silence, filtering out together without a passing glance. You walked in different directions, both consumed in your own thoughts. You figured the pianist would be back by now. When nothing came, you decided to do take action, composing your own masterpiece. You tacked the letter you painstakingly rewrote a million times, setting for a simple note of flattery that you hoped would entice whoever it was playing the piano to return the gift you had cherished back to you. You expected nothing, maybe music returning back. Instead, you were greeted two days later with a simple knock at your door.

You answered quickly, shuffling your feet towards the entrance of your apartment. You opened the door to a familiar face, the man from the elevator. This time, his hair was freshly dyed, denim blue with one side sleeked back. His eyes were bright, alert as he looked at you with a surprised expression. You skimmed the length of his body, noting the tailored pants and soft looking sweater, stopping suddenly on a familiar piece of paper between long fingers adorned with rings.

Your note.

“You’re the pianist,” You realized, staring at the note. The paper of the note was faded, fraying at the ends and softened at the creases. It had clearly been folded and unfolded a million times, pulling at your heart.

“You fall asleep to me playing?” He asked, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“I have trouble sleeping- you, your music helps.” You said lamely. “I’ve missed it….I thought, I mean, I noticed that you were playing more sad pieces than normal and then you stopped playing altogether. I figured something was wrong- Are you okay?”

He tapped his foot on the ground and shifted his weight, looking down at the ground awkwardly, “I was going to stop playing. I just…I didn’t see the value anymore.”

You felt panic sweep over your body and widened your eyes, leaning towards him instinctively, “Your music feels like a friend. It’s so beautiful and calming, it’s the only thing I have to look forward to some days. It- It has value. A lot of value, to me.”

He looked up at you and smiled, eyes crinkling slightly, “That makes me feel better- I’m Yoongi. Min Yoongi.”

You smiled back at him, tilting your head slightly.

The music came back after that, new songs playing every evening. You spent the mornings tracking down all of the songs he played the night before, listening to them while you went about your day, melting away time until you could listen to Yoongi practice again. You saw Yoongi a couple times in the elevator, exchanging shy smiles and excited suggestions of what you think he should learn next.

It wasn’t until you awoke one morning to the soft musings of a piano that you realized- you loved Min Yoongi. You recognized the song playing instantly- Dawn from Pride and Prejudice. You had suggested it awhile ago and how romantic you thought the piece was. It had been a slip of the tongue you thought he had forgot about it by now, since he hadn't played it. You remembered the small smile he gave you, nodding slightly when you blushed furiously at even the mention of romance. But now, listening to the music you knew he played for you, you were glad you had said it. It was fitting for the hour, the sunrise pouring cool colored light through your windows, a soft breeze filling your room because you had never gotten out of the habit of cracking your window to hear Yoongi play.

You smiled, laying in bed for a moment and soaking in the light keys. Eventually, you got up and walked to make yourself a cup of tea, stopping when you saw a piece of paper that had been slipped through the bottom of your door.

You picked it up quickly, opening it at once.

Would you like to have dinner with me? - Your Pianist.

[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!

[free-pool-trash]

bad behaviour - peter maximoff

Requests: Hi! I just read Utopia and absolutely loved it. Your writing is amazing! I was wondering if you could write something with Peter x Reader where they’re in the sitcom reality and Billy and/or Tommy get in trouble in school so they ask them to pretend to be their parents so Wanda and Vision don’t find out. Or something cute with the twins. Thanks!!!

ahhh this is such a cute idea thank you for the request anon!! 💕💕💕 I hope you like it! Comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

(3 fics in 2 days who even am I at this point? Requests are open lovelies <3)

word count: 1k

warnings: none <3 just some short fluff <3

masterlist

“Oh, Y/n! Thank goodness you’re here!” Wanda sighed out dramatically when you entered her house, a relieved expression found her face as soon as she saw you. “Would you mind helping Pietro pick up the twins from school? I’d let him do it himself but I’m afraid he’ll load them up on sugar again.” She asked exhaustively and you had to giggle, Pietro did have a tendency to get the boys hyper only to dump them on Wanda.

“Course I’ll chaperone. What’re you up to?” You questioned, taking in the disaster that was Wanda’s kitchen. Eggs and flour painted the kitchen counters and the doors of the cabinets.

Wanda let out an airy laugh, “Oh, you know, just some light baking. Dottie asked me to whip something up for the neighbourhood bake sale!”

Slowly, you nodded your head, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing, “Right. Well is Pietro around? We should get going soon.”

“Right here, sweetheart.” Pietro sounded, appearing by your side out of nowhere. You jumped slightly at his sudden appearance, causing the man in question to chuckle happily to himself.

Wanda caught herself smiling at the two of you as you bickered, making your way towards the front door, only pausing to shout a quick, “Good luck with the baking, Wanda!”

When the door shut Pietro leaned close to you whispering, “She doesn’t need luck she needs a damn miracle. That kitchen is a war zone.” You nodded your head in agreement, shoving him away from you with a light giggle.

“Shut up, Pietro. She’s trying her best.” You defended his sister through a laugh.

The silver haired boy groaned, pulling a hand through his hair and fixing you with a half hearted glare, “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Peter?”

The pair of you were walking alongside each other as you shrugged your shoulders, “Your name is Pietro, though.” You stated matter of factly.

“I prefer Peter.” He whined, pouting his lips childishly while bumping his shoulder against yours.

Again, you let out a laugh, “Ok, fine. I’ll call you Peter, you big baby.” You bumped his shoulder right back.

Peter grinned triumphantly, a cocky expression on his face as he threw an arm casually around your shoulder as the two of you continued walking until you reached the school.

Once the pair of you reached the gates you noticed a very disapproving teacher with her hand firmly grasping Billy and Tommy by their shoulder on either side of her. You shared a look of confusion with Peter before making your way towards the boys.

“Mr and Mrs Maximoff, I assume?” The teacher spoke, her gaze scrutinising the arm Peter had around your shoulder, before you could correct the women Peter placed an unnecessarily loving kiss against your cheek and stared at the woman with a proud grin.

“Yep, that’s us! We’re so in love, right babe? Can’t keep her hands off me, how do you think we bagged those two?” He rambled suggestively, gaining a jab in the ribs from you and a disgusted look from the teacher.

Your cheeks were burning and you managed an apologetic smile, “Is there a problem?”

“These two have been having some… behavioural issues.” The elderly woman told you hesitantly and Peter responded with a shocked laugh.

“Our boys? Behaviour issues? I don’t know lady, seems out of character- Ow Y/n!” He yelped when you elbowed him in the ribs, effectively cutting him off.

Finally, the teacher released the twins who walked with their heads hung low into yours and Peter’s waiting arms, Billy tucking himself under your arm and muttering a quiet, “Tommy started it, Y/n.”

With a small sigh you ruffled his hair before returning your attention to the exhausted woman before you with yet another apologetic smile, “I’m terribly sorry about that. They take after their father. I’ll make sure that it doesn’t happen again.” Peter pouted at your statement and the teacher nodded, satisfied with your answer and quickly walked away from the four of you.

“You two have some serious explaining to do.” You muttered, leading them out of the school yard.

“Yeah what’d you two little demons do exactly?” Peter asked accusingly although you could tell he was excited to hear the answer to his question.

Tommy shot into a story about how he was using his powers and Billy was ruining his fun and the teacher ended up getting caught in their crossfire, “It was awesome!” He finished excitedly while Billy grew increasingly nervous at your side.

Peter was busy encouraging Tommy’s bad behavior, finally removing his arm from your shoulder to race the boy in question up and down the sidewalk while you comforted Billy.

“We’re not really mad at you, you know.” You stated, ruffling his brown mop affectionately. At your words Billy stared up at you, doe eyes filled with worry.

“Are you gonna tell mom?” He fretted and you laughed, shaking your head reassuringly.

“My lips are sealed.” With that a happy smile returned to his face.

He gave your torso a quick squeeze before running to catch up with his speedster brother and uncle. After a second Peter had appeared back at your side, his arm returning to its previous spot around your shoulder and he pulled you into his side.

Peter released a dreamy sigh, eyes set ahead watching as the twins roughhoused, “They grow up so fast.”

You hummed in agreement, lazily wrapping your arm around his waist, “That they do, Mr Maximoff.”

“We make a pretty hot married couple, Mrs Maximoff.” He commented, a sly smirk on his lips as he watched your cheeks heat up and a scoff leave your lips.

“Yeah, in your dreams.” With that you shrugged his arm off and strutted ahead of him, not bothering to look back as he whined out behind you.

“Aw come on, Y/n! We’d be so cute and you know it!”