#again I’m angry and tired so this probably won’t make any sense

[thegreatcrowdragon]

Ok I’m tired but also pissed so I have to say this.

Butter Roll cookie is absolutely a himbo. Just because he’s really well versed in one field of work doesn’t mean he’s not an absolute dumbass otherwise. Have you seen the way he talks about getting kidnapped? That guy is a class A himbo. There’s no fighting it. He could tell you every single ingredient used in the process of creating a cookie, and also wholeheartedly believe you if you told him human children come from delivery storks.

And even if it weren’t true devsis themselves said he’s a himbo so-

[darlingdaisyfarm]

what once was | Stanford Pines x reader

tags: sfw, memory loss, established relationship

a/n: this one was hard to write, not gonna lie. i even cried. thank u anon for this wonderful idea! Ford has always been such a complex character to write, but I tried to show his love, pain and his determination.

thank you for reading, i hope this breaks you as much as it broke me to write :,,,,,)

Stanley version

you wake up to the familiar weight of his hand resting gently on your arm, it’s warm and it brings a sense of. . . some kind of safety. as if you’ve felt it before, but. . . at the same time no. no, you don’t know why it’s so comforting.

you blink, trying to focus, but your head hurts like you’ve been hit by a truck. you rub your temples, wondering why it feels like your brain’s been shredded into pieces that won’t stick together.

your vision is blurry at first, but your gaze shifts to the man beside you. dark circles under his worried eyes that still got some hope in them.

Ford hasn’t gotten more than an hour of sleep in weeks.

“hey. hey, sweetheart. you’re okay.”

you analyse his face, feeling a slight sense of panic inside. “wait, who— who are you?”

Ford’s face drops, not in shock, but in something far more painful. you’ve asked him this question before. you’ve asked it every single morning since the accident. and every morning, the answer is the same.

“it’s. . . it’s me, darling. Ford. your husband.”

your husband, he names himself. . . you wish you could make sense of the emotions in your chest right now, but you can’t, because you don’t understand, you can’t remember, nothing’s connecting. nothing makes sense and everything feels so wrong.

Ford cant stand the silence. “y-you don’t remember, do you?” please just tell him you do—

“no. . .”

his lips press together and he looks down, but he’s not mad, not angry. no, Ford’s never angry, not at you.

“i— i’m sorry,” you mumble with guilt in ur voice. “i really don’t remember, i’m sorry.”

Ford shakes his head, running a hand through his hair, trying to control the storm of emotions inside of him. he’s trying so damn hard to stay calm and not burst into tears right in front of you. “don’t— don’t apologize, it’s not your fault. none of this is your fault.”

you continue to look around, trying to find at least one thing in the room which could be familiar to you.

“w-we’ve been through this a thousand times, love,” Ford explains and looks away, focusing on the empty space in front of him. "i know this isn’t easy for you. for us. but i’m not going anywhere, we’ll figure this out. i’ll— i’ll fix it. i’ll find a way to bring your memories back. i promise."

“how long?” you ask. “how long have we been. . . married?” it’s so weird to even pronounce the last word.

“seven years, my love.”

***

Ford holds it together for you. he always does.

every morning, he wakes up before you. sits at the edge of the bed, rubs the sleep from his eyes and prepares to tell you who he is.

who you are.

he’s a scientist, logic is his shield and his weapon. he throws himself into his work, searching for something that could help.

he’s got sketches pinned to the walls, equations scattered across the desk. an entire board dedicated to explore how human’s psyche and mind works.

he's been up countless nights, fiddling with wires and strange gadgets, all while researching any possible way to bring you back to him. every book, every article, every experiment. even though he’s exhausted, theres still light in his eyes that never fades, a fire in him too. a stubborn determination to make things right, no matter what.

you catch him once, sitting at that desk with head in his hands, probably tired as fuck.

“hey. . .” you forgot his name again, damn.

Ford’s head snaps up immediately when he hears you because he hopes you came to tell him “honey, i remembered! i remembered we are married!”. you see the redness in his eyes, from tears or lack of sleep, youre not sure. he scrubs a hand across his face, trying to pull himself together.

Ford looks at you, waiting you to continue, waiting to hear these cherished magical words. but you stand here all silent and confused.

“you should be asleep, honey,” he finally tells you, realising you won’t continue.

“so should you,” you say softly, stepping closer.

when you reach out to touch his arm, he shudders.

“i can’t, i can’t lose you. not like this. i need to work.”

***

but there’s always another plan. the one he doesn’t tell you about.

Bill.

and Ford is not proud of it.

he knows it’s a dangerous path, one that’s led him to dark places he never wanted to go. but the temptation is too strong. the idea of reaching out, of making that deal to bring your memories back. . . if only for a moment, if only for a chance to see you smile at him like you once did. Ford has considered it, weighed the consequences, overthought it.

but each time, he’s pulled himself back. he can’t go down that road again. he won’t.

still, this idea stays in his mind. because every hour of research, every failed experiment, every sleepless night feeds that urge, a feeling that maybe the price will be worth it. just shake his hand and—

but he’s trying so hard to fight it because he can’t bring himself to make that choice, no matter how broken he feels inside. he won’t drag himself into that nightmare again, no matter how much his soul hurts, no matter how badly he wants to see you smile at him.

right now, he just wants to hold you, to keep you close. to be the one you turn to. he doesn’t need a deal with Bill. he needs you. he needs you to remember him the way he remembers you.

***

another morning.

you’re lying there, your head pressed softly against the pillow, still struggling to make sense of everything, who you are, who he is, what this is, you feel a mix of confusion and fear.

his hand is resting gently on yours, as always, his fingers caressing your skin with a tenderness that feels. . . familiar again, but so far away. he’s looking at you, waiting. just waiting. sitting beside you, thinking, trying to come up with more ideas.

you flip through a page of his journal and one of his drawings seems funny to you, you smile as you point at it, asking, “hey, Ford, so what is that thing?”

Ford.

he looks at you in shock. he doesn’t move, doesn’t speak as if the wrong word might shatter this fragile moment he’s been waiting so long to happen.

his heart pounds in his chest.

“Ford. . .?” you ask again, worried why he got so silent. unsure if you should’ve said anything at all.

again, you say it, his fucking name, and it shatters him. because it’s not just the name. it’s that you remembered it. that piece of him, the one he’s been clinging to with everything he’s got, has finally stuck in your mind.

his eyes shimmer for the first time in all these months. his gaze falls to your lips, memorising the shape of the sound you just made.

“did— did you— did you just say my name?”

you nod slowly, unsure if you’ve done something wrong.

but you did exactly what he’s been waiting for, praying for.

his hands grip at his face, trying to control the flood of tears that he can’t hold back any longer

“you— say it again. please. say it again.”

you’re confused at the urgency in his voice, but still do as he asks you. “Ford. your name is Ford.”

his name. his name. from your lips, it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

Ford’s hand comes up, trembling, to cup your cheek. he touches you like you’re something so delicate and the sight of him hurts. hurts because you don’t remember what it feels like to be in his arms, what it felt like when he used to kiss your forehead goodnight, when he used to make you laugh until you couldn’t breathe.

“oh god, my love—” he cant continue because he simply starts crying. Ford presses a hand over his mouth, as if he could stop it, but he can’t. he can’t. “you— you remembered. oh, darling, you—” he just shakes his head, unable to speak as he gasps for air between sobs.

you stare at him, all lost. “Ford, are you— are you okay?” no, he’s not, he’s damn not, because he spent every waking moment trying to fix what’s been broken, for you.

Ford smiles through his tears, not even bothering to wipe them away. “no— yes. i-i’m fine, i just—” another sob cuts him off and he laughs bitterly through it. “god, you don’t. . . you don’t know what this means. you don’t—”

it’s not the anger, not the frustration that has been building up for weeks. it’s relief. it’s all the grief he’s been carrying.

Ford leans forward, reaching out for your hands, but he hesitates, because he’s scared you might pull away. because too much emotions which Ford used to hide. but you don’t and he grips them tightly, clutching them, wide smile never leaving his face.

“it’s you,” he whispers. “it’s you. you’re still in there. i knew it. i knew it.”

his forehead drops to your knuckles, his glasses slipping, tears falling down. “i was so scared, my love,” he admits through sobs. “so scared i’d lost you forever. that i’d never hear you say my name again. that—”

he can’t finish the thought, can’t even say it aloud. it’s too much, too cruel.

“Ford, i—“

he looks up at you and his cheeks are streaked with tears, eyes red, swollen and wide with disbelief and love. so much love it hurts.

“you d-don’t have to remember everything,” he whispers, his voice trembling but so, so tender and soft. “you don’t. i’ll wait. i’ll wait as long as it takes. but this. . . this is enough for me. hearing you say my name, it’s enough, darling.”

you don’t know why, but his words make you want to cry, too.

you can’t find the words to comfort him. how do you comfort him when he’s the one who’s been holding it all together, for you, all this time?

“it’s okay. it’s okay, Ford.”

the words feel too small, but they’re all you can offer, as your hand brushes against his cheek.

and Ford, your lovely Ford, your husband, he melts into your touch, like an affectionate puppy. he doesn’t try to hide it. he doesn’t try to be strong.

“i’ve been trying so hard. . .” Ford remembers every sleepless night, every failure, every moment when he thought he might lose you forever.

he pulls you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck, holding you. you hold him back, just as tight.

“thank you,” Ford whispers into your skin. “thank you for remembering me, darling, for remembering us.”

you don’t know how much you’ve given him, not yet. but you will understand it later, much later. when you’ll remember him again, completely, soon.

but for now, you just hug him back, feeling how his body shakes, how he clings to you and you promise him you’ll remember.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs, “i’ve always loved you, sweetheart. i just— just needed you to remember that.”

he’s not asking you to remember everything, to recall every detail, every moment. no. he just needs to know that you still remember him.

and you do.

you do.

[hzllhoundz]

the outsiders x male reader hc !!

Sfw— headcannons don’t except it to be good I’m kinda stupid— feel free to request—also amab / gn pronounsish (no fem terms basically)

DALLY WINSTON - sfw

★ he deff has internalized homophobia (it’s the 60s) he still thinks it’s kinda gross but he loves you and to him that’s surprising he’s Dallas Winston and he doesn’t love anything he got close to you and feels safe

★If Johnny doesn’t like you or somthing he either has to come around to you or your out so be nice to Johnny help protect him and make sure he doesn’t die or anything like that (haha…*sobs*)

★he would probably be toxic ngl very possessive and he likes getting you angry and frustrated would love to fight with you and he doesn’t see anything wrong with you he is also protective and he won’t let you leave him so your stuck

★ super good hugger like bear hugs and he’s good at cooking if he wasn’t all hardened up hed be the best house husband but he stopped cooking and stuff and never cares to clean up (he refuses to do any of this anymore)

★he had a cat once, named her missy when he was younger his folks killed her and he held her a funeral and kissed her forehead before filling the hole with dirt if you have a cat of any kind he’s gonna love it to death, or let him keep one at your place

★he loves how male reader can stick up for himself, he loves it when your angry at him.. it gets him a little excited (wait tell later) even if it’s at him, he doesn’t let up flirting with girls but he won’t cheat on you.. he decided he wanted to stick with y’a the gang thinks your just really close friends you don’t dare tell no body not in talsa Oklahoma in the 60s

————————————————————-

SODAPOP CURTIS - sfw (sorry it’s short I ran out of ideas)

❤︎︎his hands are so soft like so soft despite being a greaser he has like soc skin Darry buys him moisturizer as a gift once and ever sense he’d have like two-bit get (steal) some more him

❤︎︎definition of a golden retriever boyfriend even tho your another boy he doesn’t see a problem (he never thought about homophobia or why it’s be wrong and didn’t pay attention in church like pony said) so when someone judges or a soc calls you guys ‘𝒻𝒶𝑔𝑔ℴ𝓉����’ he gets very confused and Darry or pony have to explain it cus you feel to bad

❤︎︎he thinks your like a woman (not biologically) but like treats you like he would a girlfriend and almost called you a princess once but quickly apologized he baby’s you try’s to open jars for you your like a girlfriend but not a girl if you get what I mean

❤︎︎he dyed his hair once blonde and now he’s a few blonde strands every time he has a little bit of hair dye (like every few months he’s suddenly a little blonder)

————————————————————-

DARRY CUTRIS - sfw

➜ he’s a tough partner he acts like your a nuisance and he’s quite homophobic even to himself he doesn’t mean to be and he loves you but it’s hard for him he’s a cutie truly and his brothers love you which helps him

➜he’s busy working so any time you can help him out with money do so secretly of course he’d hate to be given money by you he’s an independent guy

➜you probably met by working or when he’s running around getting groceries or something help him carry stuff you a strong person 💪 he cooks in the mornings so maybe one day cook for him?

➜hold him when he goes to sleep he’s always so pent up and tired maybe he will finally relax massage him let the tension out (maybe save up for a boxing dummy for him) overall I think he’d cry if you held him tight told him you loved him conformation etc he’d love that

➜ he’s a simple vanilla guy he likes romantic stuff even if he’s always busy let him lay in your lap and play with his hair as you read or something the only ones who know about you two are probably soda, pony, and Johnny who’s around a lot and pony probably told him

➜it’s probably gonna be a forever relationship if not he won’t ever date again he’s the type to say ‘there’s only one person for me’ or when he’s older one of his brothers will have a picture of you two and post it on tt w ‘This was our brother and his bf (your name /last name) find him for us !! And reunite you guys of something 😭

THE END

———————————————

NSFW will be next ✨

[dark-frosted-heart]

Choose Your True Love - Keith Howell (part 2/4)

This is the from the 4th anniversary event

(Alter)Keith indicates that it’s Alter!Keith pretending to be Keith.

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. Some dialogue’s taken directly from the English version of Keith's route.

(He's impressive in so many ways…)

Alter!Keith: Thought you were gonna cry a bit, but you’re pretty tough even with that cute face. Or are you used to this in the future?

Emma: From what I know, things aren’t as bad as they are now. It’s most likely because Prince Keith keeps things in check.

Alter!Keith: That so? Makes sense…Then it’s worth gutting them.

He snickered and looked over his documents again.

(Be careful with “that”)

The documents from Liam had information on nobles who had committed crimes that couldn’t be ignored.

And so I went from estate to estate with Prince Keith as his aide.

You could say the purpose was to do some clean up.

~~ Flashback ~~

(Alter)Keith:  Even cities far from the capital are under watch. Continue foolishly raising taxes and we’ll know. It’s alright though, I won’t be asking for an immediate confession. After tomorrow, you won’t be a lord, so we have plenty of time.

--

(Alter)Keith: You joined a group of thieves to deal in illegal trading. Good thing you were too optimistic to be careful. Is that an excuse I hear? Let’s go, there’s a carriage waiting. You don’t live here anymore.

--

(Alter)Keith: It’s not fake at all. This is real evidence given to me by the administrator you hired. You should be thankful that they gave you a chance to make up for your crimes. But will this pointless struggle continue?

~~ End flashback ~~

(Even though he was pretending to be nice Prince Keith, his smile instilled fear)

(Those cold golden eyes that could stop the heart and merciless cornering)

(And speaking of mercy, he didn’t take any lives)

I shivered at the memory. Those nobles must have been traumatized.

~~ Flashback to his route ~~

 Liam: Although his methods are barbaric, it is thanks to him that our nation’s defenses are stronger, and the nobles who hurt the common people are less in number. Although naturally, there is a subset of nobles who despise him because of that. Prince Keith has achieved a great many things. But most of those were achieved by that piece of crap.

~~ End flashback ~~

A conversation from before I came to Jade crossed my mind.

(Sure, the way he’s cornering the nobles will make them hostile, but it eases the common people’s suffering)

(He’s doing this “on behalf of” and “for” the nice Prince Keith…)

(Prince Keith’s annoyed by the cruel words said, but he’s not upset by them)

(It’s like he’s used to it)

(...I can’t ignore it)

The nobles naturally didn’t admit to their crimes when they were presented to them.

And because it was Prince Keith they were dealing with, they hurled insults at him, which made me angry.

Alter!Keith: …

Emma: Um, can I help you?

I tilted my head in confusion when Prince Keith leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and stared at me.

Alter!Keith: Nothing. Just surprised by how much you like the failure.

(I’m not…though this reminds me of when we first met)

He’d call nice Prince Keith a “failure”, but would smile whenever I said he wasn’t.

(He’s been lying to himself and acting contradictory for so long…)

Alter!Keith: …

(Ah, he’s going over the documents again)

They were different from the ones Liam gave him, and he had been spending most of our time in the carriage looking over them.

(I wonder if the king’s already left official duties to him as his aid by this time)

The sunlight made the dark circles under his eyes peeking out through his bangs more prominent.

(That’s probably not the only cause…)

It was something that had been bothering me since before we left the castle, and I unconsciously opened my mouth.

Emma: Why don’t you rest your eyes for a moment?

Alter!Keith: Sorry I got you worried, but these dark circles are that guy’s fault. “I’m” not tired.

Emma: Nice Prince Keith’s fault…?

(What did he mean?)

Alter!Keith: …That’s what you call him?

Emma: Yes, since you’re both Prince Keith.

Alter!Keith: Then what about me?

Emma: Wicked Prince Keith.

Alter!Keith: Haha, so I played with you in the future? Well, you do look gullible.

Emma: I don’t think I am…?

Alter!Keith: Whatever you say…Hm?

Emma: ?

(Did he see something outside the window…?)

Like Prince Keith, I looked out the window.

At that moment, I felt a peck on the cheek and heard a chuckle.

I looked back and saw Prince Keith smiling wickedly at me.

Alter!Keith: I need to use complex tricks for Emma. Noted.

Emma: …You’re still as wicked as ever.

Alter!Keith: So I’m also wicked Prince Keith too?

He still had that same innocent smile which almost made me forget that I was in the past. 

(Hopefully this was enough to distract from the unpleasantness from the estate…)

Alter!Keith: As an apology for making you pout, I’ll answer any question you have.

Emma: Huh?

Alter!Keith: There’s something you want to ask me.

(...Is he sure?)

I hesitated for a moment and looked into his eyes.

Emma: The dark circles aren’t because you’re busy with official duties, is it?

Alter!Keith: You got it.

Prince Keith sighed and everything was quiet for a moment.

Alter!Keith: …The next time we wake up, which personality will be in front? What if it’s a different personality? He’s been losing sleep worrying over this.

(I thought so…)

I remembered his diaries and the empty shelves.

(Back in this time, Prince Keith was still confused over his abnormality, and was struggling to accept it)

(So maybe those feelings of fear and rejection toward the wicked Prince Keith were strong enough to make him lose sleep)

Alter!Keith: He may be a failure, but he’s stubborn. Even if he can’t do anything, he’ll still desperately try to do something for his country or someone else. …And he gets in my way.

(Now I can understand just how much the wicked Prince Keith cares for the nice Prince Keith)

(...That’s why it’s difficult)

At the same time, it felt irritating.

--

(...I want to cover my ears right now)

[rei-does-stuff]

Little…Well LONG thing about Bamsaegi and co

—

So they all managed to get out of the gas chamber and escape underground. They find a hidden mineshaft that was left behind from the wolves and recover there, they think everything is finally okay but the worst happens as the mineshaft collapses on itself and they’re trapped once again. They’re not dying but they’re completely stuck.

They all try to make the best of the situation, stay positive yknow? But that can only go so far and eventually everyone is hungry tired and fed up with everything, Bamsaegi especially.

They’ve been trapped for a few weeks and Undochi keeps trying to tell everyone that Flower Hill is coming for them, that they still need to keep hope for Flower Hill so they can continue serving and Bamsaegi fucking snaps.

“WE’VE BEEN HERE FOR WEEKS! There’s not coming! They’re never coming! They probably already have a funeral ready for us and are parading us around as Martyrs just like your brother, just like Mulori, just like everyone else! Are you really this delusional?? We are gonna die in here!”

Undochi still having that Flower Hill propaganda deep inside him, gets angry esp since Bam brought up his brother.

“Well SORRY for trying to be positive! It’s not my fault you believe a random note you thought your brother sent! How’s that going for you? You’re so naive, don’t forget we’re in this mess because you stupidly thought everything was over! It’s no wonder Geum likes me more than you. He’s probably not even looking for you anymore, is he?!” And it eventually turns into an actual fight as Murori desperately tries to keep them both from murdering each other

He has to talk a lot of sense into them once he gets them off of each other. “Are you two crazy?? The more you fight the more likely this place will collapse on top of us, you two might be fine being buried alive but I’m not! We’re all tired, maybe they won’t find us, but killing each other just makes so if they do find us they’ll only be dragging out corpses! Put your anger towards finding a way out of here!”

They eventually dig a little into the mineshaft, but the tunnels lead to no where, they do find a lot of hidden information about the wolves, weasels and especially flower hill since it seems like the mineshaft was there to store physical files of information when they switched over to being completely digitally

And finding out the horrors of your homeland probably won’t end well for them

Undochi is trying so hard to cope. “Noo guys im sure we had a good reason! We aren’t monsters! R-Right…?”

“No Undochi I don’t think any amount of ANYTHING deserves stuff like this…Was my brother really doing this kinda stuff to the enemy?”

“It’s fake! It HAS to be fake!”

“It too real to be fake…We did all this, and more. Your brothers…My sister…Oh I’m gonna be sick…”

They eventually get out, they’re close to Flower Hill but after seeing what they’ve seen they don’t consider it their homes anymore, especially since they get to spy on their own funerals! Fun right?

They all think “Screw this place, if they think we’re dead then we don’t have to serve anymore, we can do whatever we want! This isn’t our home anymore!”

But the only thing really stopping this is Bamsaegi, he wants his parents, both of them. He thinks he can save them! Jul is still in the hospital so they do the very sane and normal thing of breaking into the hospital and kidnapping him whilst trying not to be spotted

Jul is obviously VERY fucking confused because moments ago he was grieving his son being dead and here he is, alive trying to kidnap you!

Bamsaegi is really emotional whilst trying to explain WHY he’s doing this and how Flower Hill is bad and everything and Jul is like “Look Bam, I care more about the people IN flower hill than Flower Hill itself…If you don’t wanna be here I can’t force you.”

Unfortunately it isn’t up to Jul.

They still have to find Geum, and he…He isn’t gonna be very nice about it, not nice at all

They managed to find Geum, it takes a lot of planning esp since Geum is still undercover but they manage to knock him out and drag him out of the Wolves Den

When he awakes he’s at first confused and disoriented esp since Bam is alive, but when he finally adjusts and realizes what’s going on he isn’t happy in the slightest

“HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?! DID THE GAS CHAMBER MAKE YOU LOSE BRAINCELLS?? Do you realized what you’ve done?! You already made us go back to fighting and now you’re trying to pull me away and let everyone in Flower Hill die and for what?!? Because you’re upset about a few things we HAD to do?!?!”

Bamsaegi tries desperately to explain whilst is screaming at him, Jul is trying to calm him down but to avail.

“You don’t understand! This isn’t right! Flower Hill is just as bad as the others! This war is meaningless and it’ll never end! You’ve thrown half of your life away just because Flower Hill convinced you that it was your fault that you trusted Uncle Bear! It’s the conmanders who are trying to trick you into staying Dad! They’re using you! We don’t have to deal with it! We can just stay here and be happy like before!”

Geum, however, isn’t convinced. Straight up slapping Bamsaegi. He isn’t yelling, but his tone makes himself very clear that it isn’t up for debate.

“I am your guardian, I have been for years therefore you can’t do anything without my permission. And I refuse to give you permission to do something this traitorous. Your friends can do what they want, Jul…You can support them if you wish. But I will not let you betray Flower Hill. You are a stupid, naive child who doesn’t know anything about the real world. I was wrong to think you were ready to be a scout, I’ll be sure they train you better. We are going home, and I will go back to defend OUR hill like we’re supposed to. This isn’t a battle you can win.”

True to his word Geum does exactly that, much to Undochi, Murori and Jul’s dismay. The two kids try to stop him but Geum is a lot stronger than the two of them, so they have to wait before trying anything.

Jul isn’t happy, he tells Geum as much.

“You’re angry at me?”

“Extremely.”

“Look…I-I didn’t wanna do it either, but he can’t be thinking these kinds of things.”

“He’s already afraid of you Geum…You’re just giving more of a reason to be scared.”

“I know…But what else am I supposed to do? Let him run off to get killed by some weasel and not be able to fight back? If he stays here’s he’s safe, if he fights for Flower Hill he’ll have backup. If he’s out there? Nothing.”

“Hitting him doesn’t show that, even you know that…He should be able to make his own decisions even if you don’t approve. If he’s old enough to die for Our Hill he’s old enough to make that choice.”

“But that choice will lead to him dying!”

“So does fighting for Flower Hill! Geum he isn’t like you…Or he isn’t like you now…He had a point you know? I can tell…You still blame yourself for what happened with Uncle Bear…”

“…I can’t let him make the same mistake I did. He stays here.”

“Just…Really think about it Geum. Don’t push it away…I already lost Mulori, I don’t wanna lose you too.”

It’s a lot for Geum to think about

Undochi and Murori have already started planning to kidnap Bam back, sneaking in occasionally beforehand to talk with him.

They’re both pissed, Undochi especially!

Meanwhile Geum is maybe having an existential crisis about the whole “oh shit maybe I HAVE been brainwashed!” As the whole kidnapping Bamsaegi thing is happening which is great for Bam and co. Jul may or may not be helping them <4

Morning comes, Geum sees Bam isn’t there. “Did he run away?”

“Are you gonna look for him, you’re supposed to go back undercover today.”

“No. I have to…Talk with the commander first…”

Geum needs to see if the commanders are really…Well good for Flower Hill. Good to serve.

They greet him with open arms, he is there most loyal soldier after all. But Geum is there with one simple question.

“When I found out we couldn’t rely on Uncle Bear…We were able to drive the weasels out pretty quickly. Were we always that strong?”

“Of course! We didn’t need Uncle Bear, Flower Hill must be self reliant!”

“So then…Why did you let them attack? It was clear they were gonna do something…Why did you wait till Uncle Bear was already on the blackout drunk on the floor?”

“Well, how else would you learn? If you didn’t see the truth of the situation you would’ve just relied on Uncle Bear forever!”

“Learn….?”

“We had to teach you a lesson somehow! It worked, didn’t it? You know better now?”

“…Yes. I do.”

The commanders try to send Geum back undercover, he pretends to agree. But he isn’t going back. No, he serves his home, and Flower Hill clearly isn’t his home anymore. No, instead he goes to find Bamsaegi. He has a lot…a LOT of apologizing to do after all <3

Now realistically it would probably take a bit more to convince Geum but shhhhhh its fine <333

Yea just a think ive been having brainrot abt <33

[celandeline]

Summer of Like // Farleigh Start x OC (22)

We go to the field. And even though it’s just us, rules are rules, so we still strip before we enter the grass. It was dry the first time we were here, with the boys at the beginning of the summer, but now it might as well be straw for the way that it scratches at me. I probably shouldn’t smoke here, for fear of it catching fire, but I do anyway. Lately, I can’t bring it upon myself to care. I’m tired of this place. I want to go home. 

I didn’t realize how much I was depending on Farleigh for fun until now, that he’s gone. 

Venetia sighs next to me. “I wish Farleigh hadn’t ratted to Felix. Oliver will barely look at me now.” She says. “It’s so utterly boring.”

“Mm.” I hum around my cigarette. 

“What are we to do?” She sighs, overdramatic. “We’ve lost our men - mine won’t look at me, and yours is a criminal.”

“He’s not a criminal.” I say. 

“What else would you call it?” Venetia asks.

I pause, and think for a minute. “I don’t know.”

She turns to lay on her side, looking at me. “Did you ever kiss him?” She asks. 

I debate it in my head - we’re friends, and friends tell each other these sorts of things. But it feels like betraying Farleigh to say that I did. Telling Venetia that we kissed feels like admitting that she’s right to be as angry as she pretends to be, and that it’s perfectly fine to toss your family members out on the street over something that wouldn’t even put a dent in your finances. Does she deserve to know?

“No.” I say.

“A shame.” She says. “I was really hoping you would - too late, I guess. We’ll never know which of us was the best kisser.”

I let a silence settle over us, and idly smoke my cigarette. It feels like I’m mourning, a little. I didn’t know him well enough to cry, but I knew him well enough to want to know him better, and to rue the fact that I won’t get the chance. 

“You won’t miss him?” I ask. 

Venetia fiddles with the brittle ends of her hair. “I mean, yeah, obvs. But he tried to steal from us when Dad’s paying for his entire education. That’s plain evil.”

“It just doesn’t seem like something he’d do.” I say, carefully testing the waters. “He doesn’t- didn’t, I guess now, seem stupid.”

“He’s not.” She says. “He’s always got good marks - the only reason he kept getting expelled was ‘cause he kept sucking the teachers off. Like, he’s not stupid, but he is dumb.”

I know what she means - reckless. I smile a little at the image of Farleigh going out of his way to sleep with his teachers. I’m sure he got off on that power dynamic. 

“You’re kind of right though.” Venetia continues. “It’s weird, that he would try and steal something so obviously. I guess he wasn’t as sneaky as he thought he was.”

The conversation dwindles into nothingness, and I exhale a cloud of smoke, watching it dissolve into the air. That’s all I’m going to get from her, I think. That’s all I’d get from any of them. I try to put it to rest in my mind, but the closure isn’t enough. It’s frustrating that I won’t get anything more, now that he’s gone. I can’t ask him what he was thinking, or what really happened. I hate to say ‘oh well’, but what else is there to do?

“Oliver’s party’s tomorrow.” Venetia says conversationally. “What were you thinking of wearing?”

“Whatever you give me.” I say, smiling at her. 

She grins. “I don’t know why I asked - I’ve got the cutest costumes for us. Obviously nothing too over the top, but I’ve got a dress that looks like it’s made of spiders web for me, and a dress that’s covered in peaseblossoms for you. Like the fairies in the play.”

“Cute.” I say. And it does sound cute - but my sour mood makes me all too aware of how she treats me as a doll, to dress up and play with and follow her around until she gets bored of me. Expendable, once she finds someone else to fawn over her. I can’t help it though, it’s an overwhelming sense to care for her, like a force of nature. 

“I know.” She scrunches up her nose in a smile. “Maybe I’ll try it on with him again tomorrow night.” She muses aloud. “Give him a birthday present he won’t forget.”

“Disgusting.” I say. 

She giggles, flopping onto her back. “I just want to know how big it is when he’s hard.” She says. “Like, it’s got to be huge if it’s that big while he’s soft. And it’s his birthday, of course. He deserves at least a handjob.”

“You didn’t give me a handjob for my birthday.” I say. 

“I barely knew you then, it was only October!” Venetia says. “And you don’t have a penis!”

I roll so that I’m propped up on my side, partially hovering over her like I had with Farleigh the night we kissed. “And if I did have a penis?”

“I’d have given you a handjob.” She says, grinning. “Probably more.”

I can’t help but smile, lowering myself so that I’m just a bit closer to her. “You’d be so in love with me if I was a man.”

She tips her head back so that our lips are parallel. “Probably.” She says softly. One of her hands comes up to wind around the back of my neck, and pulls me down so that our lips meet briefly. When I pull away, her smile is wide. “But you’re not.”

I flop down on my back next to her. “Farleigh’s a better kisser.”

She gasps, loud, and sits up, looking down at me. “You said you didn’t!”

“I lied.” I shrug in the grass. 

“Why’d you lie?” She demands. “We’re supposed to be best friends!”

I shrug again. “I don’t know. I’m just a little…” I trail off, the presence of the hole Farleigh left behind washing over me again. 

She tilts her head. “Yeah.” She says. “Me too.” 

It’s the most genuine thing I’ve heard her say in a while. 

< previous part | next part >

[hockeyboysimagines]

All good boys go to Heaven, but Bad Boys bring Heaven to you.

Deleted Scenes

If you haven’t read the full story, please do before you read this otherwise it won’t make any sense! Reasons for exclusion are in Pink.

Thanks for reading!!

*These are in no particular order*

There’s no real reason this wasn’t included. But basically I had too much material and this felt like I was just harping on Hallie being upset but not upset about Matthew being a dumbass. So it didn’t seem like it was needed.

“Don’t.” Hallie said from behind a menu.

“What?”

“You know what.” She peered over the top to find Carly staring pointedly at her.

“I didn’t say-“

“You didn’t have to. I know what your thinking.”

“What are you psychic now?”

“No your just incredibly transparent is all. I’m not talking about this.”

“Well. I am.” Carly set her menu down and leaned forward “I’m not saying you should or shouldn’t go out with him, but I think you should just talk to him.”

“About?”

“The other night.”

“That’s done and over with and besides I really don’t care.”

“If you didn’t care you wouldn’t have gotten so upset.”

Hallie was quiet.

She did care. Sure he’d hurt her feelings by doing what he did with Allie, but the real reason she’d left the bar and cried in the shower was because it hurt to know that he could so easily do that when he was angry at her instead of trying to fix it.

It was partially her fault, and she could recognize it now even if she couldn’t say it out loud, but she thought maybe she meant a little more to him than that.

But as usual she was wrong.

And any trust she had in him went out the window.

“Can we just drop it? I don’t wanna think About it anymore okay? I was drunk and emotional and I’m never going to let it happen again.”

*********

This just didn’t fit anywhere really, plus again like some of my other stories I had too much material and this didn’t fit in any of the other ones either. I didn’t want to bring Johnny into any of their drama either.

“What’s your problem.” Hallie asked Matthew as he strolled ahead of her. Usually he walked with her after games no matter the result, but tonight all she’d gotten was a dirty look and he’d been ignoring her since.

“No problem.” He said curtly still not looking at her.

“Yeah I’m not buying it. So what’s your-“

“You and Johnny looked pretty cozy in the lounge.” He finally said. His voice was clouded with disdain.

Hallie frowned “What? What are you talking about?”

“Don’t give the act Hallie okay?”

“First of all, Johnny is my friend. My friend that YOU introduced me to. And second all of there was nothing ‘cozy’.” She said air quoting “about it. He was trying-“

“I don’t care okay. I’m tired and I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“You brought it up, and we’re talking about it.”

“We’re not. And if you think we are then you can find your own way home.”

Without another word she turned on her heel and walked back inside the arena, presumably to call an Uber or find Carly who was still inside.

He was so mad he didn’t even try to chase her, instead chucking his bag in the car and angrily starting it before backing out of the spot and exiting the garage. He drove for a while, angry thoughts clouding his brain.

He’d seen her smiling at Johnny, laughing at what was probably a dumb joke that wasn’t even funny. How could she? Why would she? Didn’t she know how he felt about her? Didn’t she care?

But as he turned onto a backroad he realized that she didn’t know how he felt because he didn’t tell her. In fact she probably had no idea. And he really couldn’t blame her. He’d acted like an asshole since he met her. Flirting with girls, drunk calling her in the middle of the night to come get him. Why would she care after all that?

And yet, here she was being so easily convinced by one of teammates to give him another chance. And he was accusing her of messing around, when he had no right to even do that at all.

“Fuck.” He sighed as he pulled a U-turn and headed back towards her apartment. He was, once again, swallowing his pride and apologizing, which is something he was going more of now than ever before.

He hoped she was home as he pulled up next to her car and got out. He glanced up at her window, and saw a faint light coming through the curtain. As he made his way up the steps he felt like each of his legs weighed 100 pounds. He hated that he upset her, and that he was again having to apologize for it.

He reached her door and knocked three times. When there was no answer he knocked harder and called out “Hallie?”

“Go away.”

He sighed and leaned his head against the door “I’m sorry okay? Can we talk?”

“No.”

He knocked again, and then again, and then the knock became a loud bang and she was forced to open the door.

“Are you trying to get me evicted?” She seethed at him. She looked annoyed but she didn’t look angry, which was good because had she been angry there would have been no talking to her.

“If it means you have to come out and talk to me then yes. Can I come in?”

“No you can say what you have to out here.”

He sighed and braced a hand on the doorframe “Look I didn’t mean what I sa-“

“That’s a lie. I didn’t realize I wasn’t allowed to have friends.”

“No I just-“

“I don’t wanna hear it.” She snapped “Johnny was trying to talk me out of never speaking to you again, and you say some shit like that to me? I’m done with this.” She made a move to shut the door but he stopped her and took a step inside.

“Get out-“

“No. I’m not getting out. Look.” He huffed “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just get so crazy when it comes to you. And yeah I’m a total fucking idiot I get it. I’m sorry for what I said, you know I didn’t mean it.”

“It doesn’t matter if you meant it. You said it. That’s what matters. I mean…” she trailed off, and he saw her lip tremble and her eyes get glassy “Do you really think that of me? That I would do something like that?”

“No Hal of course I don’t. I was just being stupid okay? I think your amazing.”

She didn’t look convinced, but stood there arms folded until he said softly “I’m sorry.”

She looked like she wanted to hit him, and he would have deserved it if she had, but instead she simply said “Okay.”

“So…can we hug it out-just a little bit?” He asked opening his arms with a small smile.

“Don’t push your luck-oof.”

“Get over here!” He cut her off, sweeping her into a tight embrace, and knocking her glasses off her nose in the process. He sighed contentedly and closed his eyes, resting his chin on the top of her head.

“Love you Hal.”

“Yeah…I love you too.”

*************

I kind of just wrote this part because it came to me but then I didn’t really have anywhere to put it so I never added it. I wish I had though.

Hallie jumped when the bathroom door banged open, and wiped the shampoo from her eyes.

“Carly?”

“No it’s me.”

“Matty get out!” She screeched, hands flying to cover all her important parts.

“It’s not like you have anything I haven’t seen and besides this is my bathroom .” She heard some fumbling around and the sink turn on momentarily before she peeked around the curtain.

He was standing, shirtless wearing only boxers, hair everywhere while he brushed his teeth. He turned and smiled at her.

“Morning sunshine!” He said. He acted cool about it but he could just faintly see the outline of her body behind the curtain and the boxers he was wearing became acutely uncomfortable.

“Can’t you brush your teeth in the other bathroom?”

“How would I brush my teeth if all my stuff is in here?”

“You could take it and leave.”

“Nah. I like this sink better. And besides Noah and Carly are both in there which means I’m not getting within 10 feet of that door.”

She frowned and slowly moved back behind the curtain. He was quiet for a few seconds before he spit and do spoke again.

“So what’s your plans for the day?”

“Matthew I’m not having a conversation with you while-“

“Me? Nothing much. Lets get lunch later yeah?”

She held back a small laugh and turned it into a cough but heard it anyways “Okay fine we’ll go to lunch. Are you done brushing your teeth?”

She poked her head out to find his toothbrush gone but his face covered in shaving cream now. He turned to her and smiled, razor in his hand.

“Well isn’t this just so domestic.”

***********

I didn’t want to include any kind of details about what happened after the sex in the cabin because I didn’t wanna drag that scene out. I probably should have included this but again, I had too much material.

Hallie woke up the next morning and realized to her horror she was asleep next to Matthew, very few items of clothing between them.

Had she done the unthinkable?

Had she had sex with Matthew?

In cabin with all their friends?

Was she high?

The answer to all of those questions was yes, even maybe the last one. There was no other logical or acceptable answer other than she was high on some serious shit for her to do what she did.

She closed her eyes and let out a long breath, panic bubbling up in the form of bile. She very slowly but effectively inched out from under him without waking him, and painstakingly cracked the door barely wide enough for her to slip through. The house was quiet, which meant no one was up yet and she bolted to her room, closing the door behind her as a tear slipped over her lower eyelid. And then a laugh. And then more tears.

And then she wiped them away because she heard a door open somewhere in the cabin and knew that their friends would be waking up soon. She wasn’t sure how cool she could play it, especially in front of Carly.

She would definitely know something was up. She took a deep breath and stood, changing before she slowly exited her room, peering into the hallways. She didn’t see anyone, and turned to quietly close her door. When she turned back around, Matthew had materialized from nowhere and she jumped.

“Jesus!” She clutched at her heart and looked up at him.

“Where’d you go this morning?” He asked quietly. He looked a little hurt, and Hallie immediately felt bad.

“I just-I went to my room.”

“Why?” When she didn’t answer he spoke again “You regret it don’t you?” He looked crestfallen and Hallie could have started crying right there just looking at his face.

She lifted a hand up to his chest, placing it over his heart “No. of course I don’t. I just don’t feel like it’s anyone’s business what happened last night. At least not right now. I just wanted to keep it between us. That’s all.”

He smiled at her, placing his hand over hers “Last night was amazing. And I-“ but he stopped and cleared his throat “I just want to make sure you felt that way too.”

“It was. But let’s talk about this some other time okay? When it’s just us.”

“Okay.” He smiled and glanced over his should before he leaned down and gave her the sweetest of kisses that made her weak in the knees.

“Come on.” He said “Let’s start breakfast.”

************

This is part of the drive to the cabin, but I didn’t feel like it was significant to the story so it got cut.

“I’m glad this is funny to you.”

“It’s hilarious.”

She and Matthew had been stuck in traffic for almost 45 minutes and she was getting more annoyed with him as the time went on. She wasn’t sure if it was because she was in love with him or wanted to kill him but either way, it was grinding on her nerves and they were practically raw by now.

If she was being honest she was upset more because she didn’t believe him about what had happened the other night. She wanted to, but she didn’t trust him. Although it felt great to be around him again, her guard was up.

“Hallie listen. About-“

“Don’t. Don’t ruin this. We’re having a nice time together, we don’t have to talk about it anymore.”

He looked a little troubled but nodded “Okay. I am sorry though, for what it’s worth.”

“It’s worth a lot. Thank you.”

***********

I had a whole sequence where they had a big fight after the sex in the cabin and they split up but then I felt like since they spent most of the first chapter arguing, that they deserved to be happy and blissed out for a while. So I took it out.

“You know what I think? I think your afraid.”

She glared at him, eyebrows furrowing “Oh yeah? Of what?”

“I think your afraid of the way I make you feel.”

She swallowed and opened her mouth to speak “How you make me feel? You make me feel like I’m losing my fucking mind!” She screamed hands flying up.

“You know what I mean. You can act like you don’t have feelings for me, like this is just about sex but you know that’s a lie.”

“Oh please.”

“Yeah oh please is right. I’m done with this. I can’t take this back and forth anymore. Do you fucking want me or not? It is not that difficult to decide. But I am done with this happening between us. I can’t do it anymore. It’s fucking killing me Hallie. Please.” He sounded desperate as he stood there in her kitchen, eyes pleading with her.

When she didn’t speak he turned and walked angrily towards the door.

“Wait.” He paused, hand on the doorknob and half turned. She was still in the same spot but her hands were down by her sides now.

“Fine.” She said quietly “I’m afraid. I’m terrified.”

His hand fell from the door “But why?”

“Do you really need to ask that question? You know why.”

“I’m not that guy anymore Hallie and you know it. I mean I’m really trying here, and I’ve never done that for anyone before. I mean can you not see that? Can you not see that I want to be with you?”

She sighed and nodded, eyes closing “I know. And I’m sorry. I’m just so-“

“Scared? I know.” He reached for her, pulling her into a long hug “But please just give me a chance. Trust me. Or at least try. Can you do that?”

She nodded against his chest “I can.”

************

I just didn’t want this part. That’s why it wasn’t included.

Hallie bounced off the sofa when she heard a knock at her door and pulled it open, expecting Matthew.

“Hey you-“ but she came face to face with Carly instead, who looked at her confused.

“Excited to see me?” Carly asked.

“Oh Uhm hey what’s up?”

“I was in the neighborhood and I left my bag and jacket here last week so I figured I’d come pick it up.”

“Oh yeah definitely.” Her eyes swiveled over Carly’s shoulder just in time to see Matthew himself turn the corner and freeze when he saw Carly.

“Uh why don’t you come in quick? I’ll grab your stuff.”

She gave him a look and he quickly disappeared back from wherever he came from. She found her jacket, chatted with Carly for a minute and then walked her out the door, hoping to god Matthew had parked around the corner instead of in the lot. She watched Carly leave, holding her breath until she was gone from the parking lot, before she texted him.

Coast is clear

He came in a a few minutes later, looking grim.

“Damn that was close.” He said pulling her in by the waist.

“I know I thought we were caught.” He kissed her deeply, lips moving against hers feverishly.

“Mmmmmm. I missed you today. Coach was riding me at practice and it wasn’t like I could tell him I was slow because I spent all night riding you.”

“Matthew!” She gasped, as his hands drifted under her shirt, brushing against the underwire of her bra.

“What?”

“How’d you like to get back on?”

He pulled back to look at her “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

*************

I forgot I even wrote this part, because it wasn’t saved on the original document.

“Where are we going?” Noah asked as he sat in the passenger seat of the Audi.

“The grocery store, and then I need to get new socks.” Matthew leaned back to get his sunglasses from the backseat when he spotted something.

A pair of pink, lacey underwear that belonged to Hallie were lodged between Noah’s seat and the center consul. He swallowed and glanced at Noah, who seemed not to notice, and very slowly plucked them out and dropped them on the floor of the back, before swatting them under Noah’s seat.

He smirked a little, remembering her frantically searching under the seat just that morning when he met her before she had to work.

While sneaking around wasn’t really practical, it was totally hot. But they had gotten careless. Lost underwear, almost getting caught by Carly. Last week they’d been in the shower together while Noah was knocking on her door, to drop off clothing Carly had for Hallie. He supposed they could only keep this going for so long, but he would as long as she’d allow it.

“What are you doing?” Noah asked beginning to turn to him.

“Nothing nosey, Jesus.”

*********

That’s all! I hope you enjoyed this! Let me know what you guys think!

🤍🤍🤍

[dolceaspidenera]

Hii! when I read your post about bg3 and what could be better, it’s like you I’ve read everything on my mind. I love this game, it’s an absolute masterpiece, that’s an undeniable truth. I desperately wanted sth like this after I fell in love with DA games. the minute I knew I can romance Astarion I jumped at the chance - because LOOK AT HIM!! and they’ve given him the BEST voice actor, the BEST character backstory- better and richer than any of the DA characters had. he feels alive, everything in his behaviour and motivations makes sense, the whole breaking the cycle of abuse is incredibly deep. And really makes me crave for more..more party banter, more things to talk about overall. there are certain shining moments between him and Shadowheart, moments where she teases him or is curious about certain things. YES GIVE ME MORE OF THIS overall with all the companions!

100% agree about how it is frustrating that companion reactions get overridden. I romanced Asta and wanted to hear his reaction to the owlbear and he got blocked by Shadowheart. why??? if anyone has sth to say let them say it.

Now I’m gonna rant a bit about Asta’s content in act 3. there’s quite a big difference between act 1 and 3 in terms of camp cutscenes. while in act 1 you have to long rest pretty much constantly to see everything that’s queued up, in act 3 it isn’t necessary. act 3 feels much emptier esp when it comes to Astarion or Karlach. Cazador isn’t involved in the main plotline so there’s no incentive to deal with him unless you really want to help Asty. Karlach and her soul coins - i didn’t understand their purpose, guess it was scrapped. same as the possibility for Asty to explore different ways to release himself from Cazador’s clutches, to be able to stay in the sun. as it is now there’s nothing for him, just a throwaway dialogue option added last minute that you’re going to look for the solution together. that solution should have been available in act 3–another scrapped content—necromancy of thay. as it stands now - I think mainly because of this missing content, there’s only one option to help Asty see reason to refuse the ritual and even that requires high persuasion check. all that we’re given is one good choice (which you can’t probably pass with a non-charismatic character) and two bad choices with one of them being No I won’t help you which does not give you any additional chances to reason with him. which there should’ve been especially if he’s romanced and on the highest approval. lastly, we should’ve been given a waaaay more satisfying conclusion - once again as it stands now, it deeply hurt me to watch him run away from the sun with nobody expressing any sort of concern for him whatsoever. he deserves better. and i’m too old and tired to write a fix-it fic about this 🙈

the end of rant 😅

Hi! Thank you for sharing your opinions with me 😊 I agree with you, I would've preferred, for example, fewer shiny objects and more party banters/cutscenes with our companions. Especially when it comes to friendship interactions, you really feel a lack of content. They are all amazing characters and I wish we could spend more time with them, it would have been cool to have something similar to the Citadel DLC in Mass Effect.

Regarding the companions' reactions that override each other, if Larian is hell-bent on leaving it like that, I hope there will be some saint modder out there who will be able to get rid of this mechanic. I'd do it myself but unfortunately I know nothing of how mods work 😭

And Yes, after completing the quest for the characters there's 0 content after that unfortunately when it comes to interactions in camp. Don't get me started on our best girl Karlach, they really did dirty to her. Her confrontation with Gortash is the most anti-climatic thing I've ever seen. She gets angry, understandably so, for like 5 minutes, and then that's it, everything is back to normal. AT least give us a cut scene with her stabbing the hell out of Gortash, them staring in each other eyes while he dies, give me some pathos, something! It's supposed to be the climax of her narrative arch, c'mon!

There's definitely a lot of cut content, I don't know if it's because they ran out of time or they were having budget issues, maybe a bit of both. I hope they will add them back later but I honestly doubt that. Unfortunately, the ending is really lacking as well, you can really see that they ran out of time there. Larian promised they would fix it, so I hope they manage to put together a satisfactory epilogue for all the characters. I reeeeeeally hate Astarion's ending in particular, there's no way my character wouldn't run after him to make sure he's okay and to comfort him. It would have been cool to have at least a party like the one with the tieflings in Act 1 to properly say goodbye to all characters (Dragon Age Origins really nailed it in that sense, even if it's brief you have the chance to speak with all characters and ask them for their future plans after the final battle).

[sixpossumsinatrenchcoat]

The things we leave behind: MISERY

In part 4 (of 6) of my post-true end Headspace AU, Hero grapples with his past. Sunny grapples with Omori. (Hero & Sunny's siblinghood is very important to me!!!! So you can expect this one to be silly & sad in equal measure.) You can start from Chapter 1 here: ao3.org/works/45213322/chapters/113743957

MISERY

Omori isn’t on his laptop this time. He’s not drawing in his sketchbook, either. He’s sitting very still with both arms wrapped around his knees, staring at Sunny the same way you’d look at a spider that just spun its web over your bed.

Sunny stares back at him. “Are you going to stab me again?”

“I won’t apologize,” Omori says, without heat. He doesn’t look angry. He just looks tired.

“That’s not what I asked.”

Omori doesn’t answer. He just stands up and slouches to the door.

###

They find Hero in the classroom in the depths of Sprout Mole Village.

He doesn’t look very comfortable. Which makes sense. The desks here were built for sprout moles, and sprout moles rarely grow much taller than a terrier. Whereas Hero is six terriers tall, at least.

He couldn’t even fit into a chair. He’s just sitting on the ground with his legs sticking out and his knees kinked up like a cricket’s. The pencil he’s using is basically a toothpick. It’s a miracle that he can write without snapping it in half.

“Hero,” Sunny says calmly.

—The toothpick snaps.

“Sunny??” Hero beckons him over, frantic. “Quick, find a desk before the teacher gets back. I can’t believe I forgot the exam was today; I haven’t screwed up this bad since I was—ugh—I don’t think I’ve ever screwed up this bad. But you still have—” He checks his watch. “Oh my god. Six minutes? That’s not even enough to scrape a passing grade. Oh my god, I’m really not going to graduate. I’m going to be a 26-year-old high schooler. I was supposed to take the boards next year and now they’re going to laugh me out of—”

“Hero,” Sunny says again.

“Shh!” He darts a nervous glance toward the front of the classroom, but the coast is still clear. “What?”

“You already graduated.”

“I did? I… did. Yeah. I did, didn’t I? So why am I—” Realization dawns. “Oh. I’m… dreaming?”

Sunny nods.

“Oh.” Hero tries to stand up, but only manages to bang his knee on the underside of his ridiculously tiny desk. “Well. Good.”

“Hero.”

“What?”

“Your nightmares are really lame.”

“They’re not always like this!” Hero says defensively. “I’m under a lot of stress!”

“Okay.” Whatever helps him sleep at night. “Now come with me.”

Hero looks suspicious. “What? Why?”

“Because I’m asking.”

“Oh, alright,” he sighs. “Just let me get through this page, or I’m never going to—”

“You already graduated.”

“Shit. I mean—shoot. I mean—ugh. Okay. Yeah. I guess let’s just go.”

###

Sunny doesn’t bother with the details. Hero’s brain is very good at rebooting to factory settings. Even if Sunny tried to explain, he’d probably get halfway only to turn around and find Hero trying to take another exam. More efficient to cut to the chase.

“Someone needs your help,” he says.

Hero straightens up. “Someone’s hurt?”

“Nnn…maybe?” Sunny thinks about it. “No. I don’t know. Probably not physically.”

“Oh,” Hero says, frowning. “Well. Who is it?”

Sunny hesitates. He doesn’t like to lie, but the only person who Hero isn’t interested in helping is Hero. “Tell you later.”

Hero rolls his eyes, but he stops asking questions.

###

Hero seems strangely at ease keeping company with two Sunny’s. He doesn’t even ask any questions. But as they close in on the nearest Pluto stop, he finally hesitates.

“Hey, Sunny?” He looks between Sunny to Omori. “Uh. Whichever Sunny, I guess. What is it you need me to do, exactly? I can do a better job if I know what to expect.”

Sunny frowns. He isn’t sure how to explain it. It would be easier if he knew what was going on with Headspace Hero. But it doesn’t look like Omori is planning on clearing that up anytime soon. “Um. Have you ever played Persona 4?”

“What? No. What is that, a computer game?”

Wow. What year is it again? Then again, it’s not really a surprise. Hero’s schedule doesn’t leave a lot of space for dungeon crawling. And besides. The fourth installment iterated on the formula in a lot of mechanically practical ways, but it was also… really homophobic. Like. Pretty distractingly homophobic. And don’t get Sunny started on their clumsy attempt at a trans narrative.

“Sunny?” Hero says again.

“Mh?”

“Why do you ask?”

What? Oh. “Don’t worry about it.”

“So… that’s not why you need my help?”

Sunny gives him a scathing look. “Like you could help me with a videogame.”

“Of course he can,” Omori cuts in, unexpectedly. It’s the first thing he’s said since they picked up Hero. “Hero can do anything.”

“Hah!! Wow. Aw, Sunny, what happened?” When he reaches out to ruffle Omori’s hair, Omori actually lets him. “You used to be such a sweet kid.”

Sunny frowns. No, he didn’t. “No I didn’t.”

“Pfft,” Hero snorts. “Yeah. I guess you were always a brat.”

Omori’s gone quiet again. He’s watching them with an expression that Sunny’s never seen on him, or maybe anyone. It’s bitter. Resigned. Sort of like envy, but from someone who’s already accepted that they’re never going to get what they want.

Sunny’s head tilts. “...Omori?”

That seems to break the spell. Omori flinches, then turns coldly away. “Just don’t fall behind.”

###

They catch a ride on Captain Kel’s spaceship, presumably to save time. It couldn’t be because Hero’s already wheezing just from the climb out of Sprout Mole Village. Omori has many talents, but 'consideration for others’ has never been one of them.

“Hah HAH!!!” the captain shouts, once Sunny’s clambered up the rope ladder and onto the deck. “Welcome aboard, mateys!! Where are we headed?”

Sunny has no idea. But he’s glad to see Kel back in the troposphere.

He’s even gladder when two fluffy pink ears pop up from behind the steering wheel. Headspace Aubrey is looking cuter than ever with her hair pulled back in a hot-pink ponytail and two long, candy-colored ears twitching overhead. Sunny resists the urge to pat her like a puppy. He's not looking to get stabbed again.

“Are you stupid or something?” Bunbrey demands, whacking the tricorn hat clear off of Kel’s head. “Obviously we’re going to go save Hero! Look, Omori even brought his wrinkly old clone!” She stops to frown critically at the real Hero, who's finally dragged himself onto the deck. "Why do you look so tired? Mari says you have to get enough sleep, or else your brain won't grow right. And it's bad for your skin. Mari said."

“Hhh,” Hero wheezes.

“HaHAH!!” Kel bellows, not dampened in the slightest. “First Mate Spaceboy!! Chart a path… to adventure!!!”

Aubrey wrinkles her nose at him. “First Mate Spaceboy, chart a path to the Deep Well, please. Thank you.”

###

The Last Resort has grown since Sunny saw it last. It’s less like a casino you’d find outside a gas station on the border of Nevada, and more like a casino you’d find on the strip in Las Vegas. Flashing lights, bustling crowds. Glittering fountains cascading to the rhythm of syrupy-smooth jazz. Huge, roving spotlights that cast the whole seafloor in azure and gold.

When Omori moves to disembark, Captain Kel and Bunbrey follow close behind. But before they can step onto the ladder, Omori pops back into view and shakes his head.

“What!!!” Captain Kel sputters. “Why!!!”

“We’re not looking for a fight,” Omori says calmly. “And you’ve still got that lifetime ban.”

Bunbrey stamps her feet. “But I wanna help!!!”

“Then keep the engine running.”

###

The first floor still throngs with Gator Guys, but they’re not primed to attack. Now they’re just running the tables—and, clearly, raking in the clams. Running a blackjack table must be a lot more profitable than picking fights with random children.

Omori doesn’t stop to play the slots. He beelines for the elevator and doesn’t slow down till they reach the colossal door to Jawsum’s reception office. Sunny can hear someone talking on the other side of the door. It’s a high voice, a little nasal and a lot familiar.

“Hello? Please hold. Hello? Please hold. Hello? Oh, yes, Mr. Dino, sir, the Chairman is ever-so-excited to speak with you! Please hold for just a teensie moment and I’ll transfer you to his direct line.”

Omori throws the door back and stomps through, with Sunny close on his heels.

When he sees who’s manning the desk, Sunny stops short. It’s Sweetheart. Sweetheart is Jawsum’s new receptionist. She's tied her twintails up into a pair of puffy space buns, and swapped the ballgown for a powder-pink button-down with a sailor collar and a neat pencil skirt. But it is very much still Sweetheart. When the door swings open, she looks up with a wide, vacuous smile, which quickly turns into a glare.

“You again,” she says coldly, to Omori in particular. “What is it this time?”

“I have an appointment.”

She looks down at her schedule and grimaces. “Ugh. So you do. I suppose you think that means that I’m going to let you through.”

Sunny did think that, yes.

“Well, I won’t! Children are disgusting. And you carry all sorts of diseases. The Chairman is a very busy man. Far too busy for horrible little rats like you.”

Omori looks nonplussed.

Sunny looks to Hero, who rakes a hand through his hair and sighs. “Right. Okay. Um, excuse me, miss—” He stops to read her nameplate. “Miss… Sweetheart. We really need to speak with the—”

(Chairman, Sunny mouths.)

“—the Chairman, if it isn’t too much trouble. We don’t mind waiting! Or if you’re understaffed, maybe I could give you a hand? I know how it is to work too many hours.” He smiles at her, disarmingly rueful. “It’s okay if there’s nothing you can do. Honest! I’d hate to make your life any harder than it has to be. But if there’s anything I can do to help, to—take something off your plate, or…”

Sweetheart’s eyes narrow, but her heart-shaped mouth curves up.

“Well, aren’t you charming,” she says sourly. “Hmph. I suppose I could make an exception, just this once.”

“You’d do that for us?” Hero leans across the counter to give her a heartbreakingly genuine smile. “Wow. You’ve really made my day. If you ever need a favor, you know who to call.”

Sweetheart was already weak to Hero when he was a barefoot 16-year-old in pajamas. She never stood a chance. “Ohhh, just—go on already!! Just keep it short. The Chairman is a very busy man.”

###

Before going inside, Sunny grabs Omori by the elbow. “Is this going to be a fight?”

“Who cares.”

“Oh,” Hero says, a little sheepish. “Um. I guess I do? I, uh. Don’t really fight.”

“It’s fine,” Omori grits out. “It’s— You’ll be fine. You can… trust me.”

Sunny’s eyebrows go up. He’s never seen Omori act that accommodating for anyone. It’s sort of unsettling, actually.

But Hero just smiles. “Thanks, Sunn— Oh, I’m sorry. Sunny called you something different, didn’t he? What do you like to be called?”

Omori looks surprised, and then strangely despondent. “...It doesn’t matter. Let’s just get this over with.”

###

Jawsum’s office room has undergone some renovations since the last time Sunny saw it. The whimsical porthole windows are gone, along with the steering wheels above the doors. Now it’s all black glass and smoothly varnished wood. And it’s immaculate. There isn’t a speck of dust or sneaker-scuff or spiderweb to be seen. It looks sterile. Clean. Modern, but in the stripped-down, Apple Store sense of the word.

The desk is still enormous, though. And the chair. The chair looks about big enough to live in.

When Omori clears his throat, that colossal office chair spins around to face him. From where Sunny’s standing, it looks like it’s empty. But when he stretches onto his toes, he can see a few tufts of dark brown hair.

—Oh. It’s not Jawsum. It’s Hero. (The other Hero.)

Headspace Hero leaps to his feet, hurrying around the desk to clasp Omori’s hand in both of his. “Omori! What a pleasant surprise! Did you change your mind about that job offer?”

“No.”

“Haha, hey, I hear ya! Just keep sleeping on it! It’s a great opportunity, you know. Something like this could really put you on the right track.” The Chairman smiles wide, baring a mouthful of dagger-sharp teeth. “There’s nothing wrong with a little nepotism, Omori. I could cut you one hell of a deal.”

He must have outgrown the pajamas. This Hero is sharply dressed in a pinstriped three-piece suit. His shiny silver cufflinks are set with real amethysts, and his once-messy hair is slicked back from his face. He looks like the Wolf of Wall Street. Like a shark that crawled out of the ocean and started selling car insurance.

“And who’s this, now!” Bossman Hero prowls forward, pacing a full circle around Sunny and Hero before giving Omori a sly smile. “Omori, you scamp! Is this some kind of prank? It’s very funny, of course, but you really shouldn’t make an appointment for something like this.”

Omori huffs a breath. “Kel’s back,” he says shortly. “From space.”

“Great!! Wonderful!! That’s wonderful to hear!! It’s dangerous up there.”

“Aubrey, too. She was hoping to see you.”

“Sure, sure, of course! I’d love to see her! I should have some availability in, let’s see… Sweetheart!”

“Yes, Mr. Chairman?” Materializing at his elbow to give Omori a snide smile.

“Where’s there space on my schedule, darlin’?”

“Not for a few weeks yet, I’m afraid,” she says sweetly. “No further commitments till the merger goes through, you said, Mr. Hero. You made me promise.”

“Right, right, the merger!!” Bossman Hero turns to clasp Omori’s hand in both of his. “Omori. I’m so glad to see you doing so well. Playing, and… pulling pranks, and all that. But we all have to grow up sometime. It was fun, going on adventures with everyone! Sometimes I wish we could have stayed like that forever. But there comes a time when you have to leave those childish things behind.”

“Childish things like your brother?” Omori asks coldly.

“I offered him a position,” the Chairman shrugs. “He just needs to apply himself.”

“And like Aubrey.”

“That girl’s got a good head on her shoulders! You just wait. She’ll come around.”

Omori doesn’t say anything, but his shoulders droop. He looks smaller, somehow, than when they first arrived. Sunny’s never seen him look so young. Like a little kid who found out that his parents won’t be home for Christmas. If Sunny didn’t know better, he’d say that Omori’s feelings were hurt.

But that’s impossible.

Sunny knows how it feels to be Omori. In a fairly real sense, Sunny’s been Omori. He spent years of his life hiding in the recesses of Omori’s subconscious mind. So he knows firsthand that Omori doesn’t get his feelings hurt. Omori was made to feel nothing. A living exoskeleton, immunized against hurt and hate and heartbreak. Emotions wash over Omori and then fall cleanly away, like water off a duck’s back. He only feels sad if it gives him the advantage in a fight.

But even so… the way he looks—

Before he can stop himself, Sunny’s already stepped between them. “What about Mari. Is she just something you outgrew?”

He’s braced for anger, or aggression outright. But Boss Hero doesn’t flinch. It’s more like he… flickers. For just a second, Sunny can see straight through him. Like someone walking past a projector.

—Then the image stutters, and the Chairman is back. Sunny’s eye narrows. A hologram.

“Look,” Bossman Hero says earnestly, sidestepping Sunny to give Omori a firm pat on the shoulder. “I love ya, kid, I really do. I’m always glad to see you. But I’m fine! There’s no need to worry. It’s just… not a good time.”

“Right,” Omori mutters.

Sunny’s still scanning the room. No matter where he looks, he can’t see the projector. But then— “Where is it projected from?”

The Chairman’s smile sharpens. “Respectfully, Omori, I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

Omori shakes himself off and turns back toward the door. “Come on,” he tells Sunny and (the real) Hero. “This is all we can do from here.”

“Give Kel a firm handshake for me, eh?” Bossman Hero calls after him. “And tell Aubrey that offer still stands!”

###

“Why is he being like that?” Sunny asks quietly, on the way out of the Chairman’s office. He’s never seen the real Hero act like that. All forced smiles and lying eyes, like he’s never been sad a day in his life.

Hero winces. “R-Right. I guess you weren’t there for that part.”

But that explains literally nothing. Sunny just stares, waiting for an explanation.

It doesn’t take long. “Well. Uh. I guess he… probably thinks he’s just being responsible. That he’s got to hold it together, for everyone’s sake. So he won’t be a burden, or… make anyone worry.”

“But they’re still worried.” Probably more worried than if Boss Hero wasn’t pretending to be fine.

“...Yeah.”

Sunny sighs. “You should never do your hair like that.”

“It looked bad, huh?”

“It looked bad.”

###

When the office door swings open, Sunny finds himself nose-to-nose with a tyrannosaurus rex in shutter shades.

“Haha, heya, Boss! It’s great to—” Dino lowers his shades. “Oh, it’s you kids. Hey, kids!”

“Go get hit by a meteor,” Omori spits.

Dino shakes his head. “Not cool.”

“Sorry about him,” Hero says, cringingly. “It’s been a long night. Um… Best of luck with your pitch!”

###

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” Sweetheart says snootily, as they shuffle past her desk.

Sunny absolutely did not. From the look on his face, Omori didn’t, either. But Hero’s a little more cooperative.

“Haha, yeah. More or less. Thanks a lot for your help, though. Really! We really appreciate it. Especially at such a stressful time.” His face darkens a little as he glances back toward the Chairman’s office. “...I don’t get it. What’s the deal with this merger? How could it be more important than his family?”

Sweetheart gives him a suspicious stare. Hero smiles back at her, guileless.

Confronted with his obvious good nature, Sweetheart softens. "The Chairman is an exceptional specimen,” she tells him kindly. “It’s his hand at the helm which keeps this whole place afloat, you know. He sees the big picture. Much, much bigger than your tiny, insignificant lives. You couldn’t begin to understand.”

“Haha, yeah. For sure. Makes sense.”

Sunny has bigger fish to fry. “What’s the point?” he asks bluntly. Why would Boss Hero even want to buy the Food Pyramid? The Orange Oasis is all the way on the other side of Headspace, far to the west and a million miles overhead. And it’s not like they can move it.

“Hmph! If you must know, the Chairman intends to leverage their resources. Mr. Dino’s excavation equipment is of exemplary quality.”

“Hero’s digging?” Omori asks sharply. “For what?”

Sweetheart turns her nose up at him. “Well! I don’t believe that’s any of your business. Now, if you’re quite finished, I believe it’s long past time for you children to leave. Unless you’d prefer to be forcibly removed?”

“We were just leaving!” Hero says hastily, shepherding Sunny and Omori toward the entrance.

Omori really must have a soft spot for Hero. He doesn’t even brush him off.

###

The End of the Highway used to be vacant. Lightless and utterly noiseless. It wasn’t just that it was too dark to see—it’s more like there was nothing to see. Even shadows couldn’t survive in that absolute vacuum.

But times have changed.

The last few miles of highway have been swallowed up by the Chairman’s dig site, a glittering tangle of steel girders and bulldozers and crocodiles in bright-yellow hard hats. Drill rigs the size of skyscrapers tower over the asphalt, making the toll gates look like kid’s toys. The whole space is lit with harsh, industrial-grade floodlights, like the kind they use for baseball stadiums and indoor basketball courts. (Not that Sunny does a lot of sporting. But he does grudgingly turn up for some of Kel’s games. It's nice to support your friends' passions, even when your friends' passions are really boring.)

Security is way, way up. It’s not just a bunch of underpaid gators who’ll look the other way for the right price. The whole dig site is fenced off with miles of barbed wire and sparking steel. Sunny can see signs posted every ten-or-so feet. DANGER!! HIGH VOLTAGE!! KEEP AWAY!! STAY BACK!!

“Aw,” Hero says, though he doesn’t look too upset. “Sorry, guys. Looks like it’s a no-go.”

“We’re going,” Omori says flatly.

Hero blinks. “But… it’s private property. And it looks like they’re pretty serious. Look, they’re even checking ID.”

It’s true. The only entrance in sight is ridiculously well-guarded, with CCTV and a barcode scanner and everything.

Sunny waits for Omori to say something scathing about rule-followers, or how fences are made to be vaulted. But Omori just shakes his head. “We’re going.”

“Uhh,” Hero says. “I mean. Do you… have any ideas?”

Omori just glares at his feet. Which means that he probably doesn’t.

Sunny chews his lip. If they found a suit, maybe Hero could pose as the Chairman? The color palette is off, but crocodiles aren’t known for their color vision. Though the teeth are a dead giveaway. It’d only work if Hero kept his mouth shut. Is Hero even capable of holding a conversation without any ingratiating smiles?

Sunny nearly jumps out of his skin when a low, rattling whisper rings out from directly behind him.

“Are you kids lost?” It’s not a nice voice. It’s sharp and scratchy and a little bit nasal, like peeling apart a strip of velcro. “Looks like you could use some directions.”

The stranger is dressed like a detective from a cheap paperback, in a long canvas trenchcoat and a fedora that hides their eyes. Their teeth are the same sickly yellow as their hair. And it’s weird… As far as Sunny knows, he made this place, and everyone in it. But he’s never seen this person in his life.

To his surprise, Omori seems to relax. “Yes.”

“Uhuhu,” the stranger chuckles. “Come to face your regrets, eh, Dreamer? All those forgotten things, buried in the deep, deep dark… But nothing stays hidden forever.”

“Obviously,” Omori says impatiently. “Do you know the way or not?”

###

Sunny knows Headspace. He charted its peaks and caverns and hidden crannies before Omori even had to exist. Sunny scaled the peaks of Otherworld while he waited for the lunch bell, and plumbed the depths of the Deeper Well on the bus home from school. He thought he’d seen every inch of this place. He’d sort of thought that he made every inch of this place.

But he’s never seen anywhere like this.

The Abyss is just as black as Black Space. But it feels more… solid, somehow? Fundamentally more real. Black Space is erratic, chaotic. It’s fear unbounded by form. Illogical. Implacable. Jagged splinters of color and sound, eyeless and still staring staring staring. Whispering all the things you couldn’t make yourself forget.

Whereas the Abyss is… well. It’s not not a nightmare. It’s certainly dark enough. Black as pitch and squirming with monsters. Lurching, limping shadows with a thousand staring eyes. The floor absorbs the faintest footfall, so every step is soundless. It makes Sunny feel sort of ghostly, like maybe he isn't really here at all. Like maybe he’s still utterly alone.

—But it isn’t his nightmare. That’s the part that’s weird. It’s terrifying, but in a broader sense of the word. It’s dark, but Sunny doesn’t really mind the dark. It’s claustrophobic, but Sunny always liked enclosed spaces. They make him feel small and safe.

But if the Abyss isn’t his, then… whose nightmare is this?

…Is it even possible that it’s Omori’s?

Sunny isn’t sure. Omori was supposed to be part of him. An only slightly unconventional trauma response, gifted with a name and a face and a dark sense of humor. But if that’s the case, then how could Omori have fears that aren’t Sunny’s?

Sunny doesn’t know.

###

The deeper they descend, the colder it gets. Sunny starts shivering on level two. When they clamber down another elevator, Hero slips out of his sweater and pulls it over Omori’s head.

“What about me?” Sunny complains.

“You’re an adult.”

“(A cold adult.)”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Hero snorts. “Let me just take the sweater off the back of the literal child so you can warm up. Is that what you want?”

“Maybe.”

“Pfft. Well, don’t hold your breath.”

Omori has been watching the exchange with the same inscrutable expression he was wearing when they first picked up Hero. But now he lunges forward with his knife drawn. “Get ba—”

—He’s too late. The monster’s already closed in.

It’s one of those shambling, whimpering shadows, ink-black with a thousand staring eyes. Another broken-mirror splinter of Mari, born of dread and poisoned by shame. The sight still turns Sunny’s stomach. But he knows that’s not really his sister. Mari lost her patience sometimes, but she would never hurt him. She loved him. And she’s dead.

“…ny…” the creature whispers. “…S…orr…y… Sunny… I’m… sorr…”

Omori winds up for a swing. But before he can land the hit, Hero throws himself between them.

“No!!” he shouts, his voice cracking halfway. Omori has to windmill his arms to keep from slashing him in half. “D-Don’t—!!”

“Lo…ve… you…” the monster whimpers. “…so…rry… love you… sorry…”

It’s still apologizing as it rears back and kicks out with two wickedly pointed hooves. Sunny barely manages to yank Hero out of the way before it can crack his skull like an egg. Ugh. Out of all the people Sunny loves, Hero is maybe the only one who’s even more useless in this place than he is.

In the background, Omori’s recovered his balance. He slams a fist against the cave wall and a torrent of Red Hands shatters through the ground under the monster, smashing it flat against the ceiling. Then he whips around to glare at Hero. “What was that?”

Hero gapes for a second, wordless, before he remembers to answer. “I—don’t know. Fuck. Sorry, I’m really sorry, that was so stupid, I just— For a second, I thought…”

For a terrifying three seconds, Sunny thinks he’s going to have to intervene. And then, for the millionth time tonight, Omori huffs a breath and turns away.

“Whatever. Just don’t get in my way.”

###

Four ladders deeper, the air glitters with cold. The luminescence from the lichen on the walls shines in every mote of vapor. Sunny can see his breath turn white. Each exhale is a tiny puff of phosphorescence, like moonlight on snow.

Hero’s breath glimmers, too. But Omori’s is dark. Like the breath in him is cold. Like he’s not alive at all. When he notices Sunny watching, he glares.

“Stay quiet,” he mutters. “We’re close.”

You can read the rest here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45213322/chapters/127613875

Or start from chapter one: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45213322/chapters/113743957

[metalprompts]

*      ―      IT WASN’T A PHASE, MOM !  ( PART TWO. )

a collection of lyrics taken from my mostly myspace era nostalgia playlist. this one goes out to all the former emo kids.  some triggering content may appear.  as always, feel free to change and adjust anything as needed.

“ things happen but we don’t really know why. “

“ all these things i hate revolve around me. “

“ why can’t you just be straight up with honesty? “

“ i’m coming home. i’ve been gone for far too long. “

“ have i fucked things up again? “

“ my bed’s so cold and lonely. “

“ you’ve got me shaking from the way you’re talking. “

“ if i had common sense, i’d cut myself or curl up and die. “

“ if this is love, i don’t wanna be loved. “

“ if i could be the devil, you can be the sinner. “

“ you could be the drugs and i could be the dealer. “

“ everything you say is like music to my ears. “

“ i’ve got you under a spell and i don’t think i’ll be letting you out. “

“ if this is heaven, then baby i don’t wanna know hell. “

“ i could’a went to college like rich kids do. “

“ in rock n’ roll, i got a phd. “

“ we got all that we need, packed it up in the van. “

“ i ain’t got shit, but i got this far. “

“ it’s probably better we’re not together. “

“ we were so young and invincible. “

“ young love was such dumb love. “

“ our first kiss stole the breath from my lips, why did the last one tear us apart? “

“ we were just kids in love. “

“ you won’t try to save me. you just want to hurt me and leave me desperate. “

“ you taught my heart a sense i never knew i had. “

“ i bet you believe that i’m better off with you than someone else. “

“ i’m not your boyfriend, baby. “

“ i’m not your knight in shining armor. “

“ l-o-v-e’s just another word i never learned to pronounce. “

“ how do i say i’m sorry? ‘cause the word is never gonna come out. “

“ i’m so bored, your words aren’t making sense. “

“ one more drink and i’m convinced. “

“ it’s been hell not having you here. “

“ i’ve been missing you so bad and you don’t seem to care. “

“ i bet you’ve never had a friday night like this. “

“ i don’t want this anymore. the thought of you is no fucking fun. “

“ i’m tired of begging for the things that i want. “

“ if i leave, i’m alone. but what’s the difference when you beg for love? “

“ we fell in love and now we’re both alone. “

“ i know it’s hard, but who are you to fall apart on me? “

“ i still think you’re beautiful. “

“ i don’t ever wanna lose my best friend. “

“ i really hope you enjoy the show. “

“ hotels are cheap and there’s one down the street. “

“ i’m sorry, i can’t see that you truly love me. “

“ i don’t care if you’re sick, i don’t care if you’re contagious. i would kiss you even if you were dead. “

“ did you call me last night just ‘cause you couldn’t get laid? “

“ you’ve got me right where you want me. “

“ i know i’m a bastard, but i’m not a coward. “

“ why can’t you see what you’re doing to me? “

“ don’t worry, i’ve let you go long before you left me. “

“ nothing compares to a quiet evening alone. “

“ let’s be more than this. “

“ you wear your heart on your sleeve, i threw mine to the sky. “

“ when you use your lips, they better be on me. “

“ liars turn me on. “

“ it’s only a crime if i get caught. “

“ i can’t keep sleeping in your bed if you keep messing with my head. “

“ i can’t keep touching you like this if it’s just temporary bliss. “

“ don’t even talk about the consequences, ‘cause right now you’re the only thing that’s making any sense to me. “

“ i don’t give a damn what they say or what they think, ‘cause you’re the only one who’s on my mind. “

“ will you be mine tonight? “

“ i thought you knew that i was crazy. “

“ who the fuck do you think you are? “

“ i can never be a perfect fucking image of what you want. “

“ we’re dancing with the devil. he’ll drink you under the table. “

“ do you still want me? “

“ i won’t be angry if you have to leave. but i won’t be waiting. “

“ don’t say you’re sorry because i won’t believe you. “

“ i’ve tried so hard to be what you needed. “

“ i’ve tried for so long to make you believe that i’m not the enemy. “

“ i never wanted a partner and i never loved you. “

“ i never wanted a partner and i never loved you, so now you’re free to leave. “

“ i swear to you now, i won’t call. “

“ congratulations. go home now. “

“ stop talking to me. i haven’t been listening. “

“ music is dead thanks to you cunts. “

“ my only home is the bottom of a bottle and a rolled up bill. “

“ i am rock and roll at it’s fucking finest. “

“ self destruction is such a pretty little thing. “

“ don’t bother sleeping without one eye open wide. “

[chippedaxe]

hello!! could i ask for a request where dream used to be a top but his ego has gotten up too high and the reader is tired of him being a bitch and decides to turn into the bitch? so it’s like sub!dream x dom!dream. i don’t really have ideas of what could happen, maybe dream won lost a manhunt and is pretty mad and yeahhh :) thank you already!

☆○o。　　。o○☆

Title: Poor Baby

Warnings: NSFW !Minor's steer clear, coarse language, praising, teasing, degrading, bit of humiliation, nipple play, fingering, anal play, begging, idk if there should be more.

Pairing: Sub! Dream X Dom! Reader

Pronouns: They/Them, non specified genitalia,

Synopsis: Dream tries to dominate you but you've had enough so you toy with Dream.

Word count: 1.5k

Note: tbh i was rlly confused so i hope this is somewhat what u wanted <3

- if it doesn't make sense like halfway thru the story then I'm rlly sorry, I wrote half of it one time and half of it another time (and I don't rlly reread or edit my work)

☆○o。　　。o○☆

Dream storms into the room looking angry, his hands have been balled into fists and you can tell that he's not thinking rationally "Dear- what's wrong? What happened, baby?" you tried to calm him down but he completely dismissed you "Take off your clothes." he ordered "excuse me?" you were taken back "come on- please just take off your clothes,, manhunt made angry.." Dream grumbled.

"Baby, just calm down.. Rest" you pulled him down onto the bed gently "Sweetheart, don't you want my cock?" Dream grabs your chin and looks into your eyes "of course I do-" he stops you right there "Then why're you being difficult?" he caresses your cheek, "Well I just feel like you're acting like a serious bitch right now" you confessed bluntly.

"Me? A bitch?" Dream groaned at your words, his hands reaching out to touch you but you stand up from the bed "Yeah. A really big bitch. So why don't you just calm down and rest, okay?" you put your hands on your hips and looked down at him "You don't give the orders okay? I give them! I'm the dominant one here!" Dream exclaimed "Then maybe I should be." you shut him down.

"What? You? Dom me? I don't think so" Dream chuckled to himself, "You think it's so funny now but wait I'm making you dizzy and seeing stars from how good I can make you feel.." you warned him "How do you expect to get me to be submissive for you?" Dream growled "Watch me." you responded as you then approached him.

You straddled his knee and crawled onto his lap, your hands moving to his chest "This is all you've got?" Dream rolled his eyes "Of course not, this isn't even close to the beginning" you leaned down to kiss his neck. You turned your head to the side and began suckling roughly on his skin, biting gently every few seconds "Ah- Yeah, keep doing that, doll." Dream tried to make it seem like he was in control but his words only affirmed your new dominant position.

"Yeah? You like it when I suck on your neck? I bet you'll like it a lot when I suck your cock too.." you tease him, your hands feeling up his chest and groping the man. "Don't tease me, or I'll punish you" Dream tried to sound scary "Punish me? But I'm being so kind, dominating you when you're clearly not fit to be on top.." you decided to bully him a little bit with some degrading words.

"Huh? What? What're you saying.." Dream started to get real riled up, his face starting to glow a bright red "What? Is my Dream angry with me?" you acted coy, kissing his jaw and pouting "Sorry Dream, I know how sensitive you are.." you teased him further "Don't make me flip you over and ram you- I will do it!" he threatened "Oh I bet you will.." your voice was condescending.

Your hands slid Dream's shirt off his body, revealing his tense muscles "Oh wow.. You look so pretty, all of this for me darling?" you cooed "Don't talk like that, I'm not you're little sub!" Dream shouted "Of course not, you're just someone who's below me and is acting quite submissive..." you pointed out. Your hands were cold, finger tips colder, pinching Dream's nipples to get a reaction out of him.

"H-uhgh..." Dream let out a small noise, his erection growing in his pants until it became a raging boner. "Aw you like when I play with your nipples? That's adorable.." you tease him as you continue to toy and play with his soft buds "n-no!" he was surely embarrassed, probably feeling humiliated. "Stop it- You're humiliating me!" Dream complained "Oh am I? You want me to stop? Then beg me, slut."

Dream went quiet and he froze up a little bit, clearly not expecting you to talk to him like that "Speak Darling, or are you too dumb?" you teased him. Dream gulped nervously and glanced up to meet your gaze "Please stop teasing me- please!" he gasped. "Okay, what do you want me to do?" you leaned over him.

Dream shuddered slightly "I want you to touch me properly!" he spoke up "What's the magic word?" you placed your hands on your hips, clearly enjoying the sudden change in superiority. "P-Please.. Please touch me, Please.." Dream groaned softly, you almost felt bad from the way he was begging you. Almost.

You looked down at him, his cock twitched in his pants, growing harder against the tight fabric "It hurt's so bad.. Please help me.." Dream hugged you and hung his head on your shoulder. "Okay baby, I'll help you.." you unzipped his pants just a bit so you could slip your hand in to palm him gently.

"Ah- I need more.. Please.." Dream bucked his hips up against your hand, desperately trying to grind against you but to no avail. "Be patient darling" you hushed him up and pulled his penis out, stroking his length gently. You admired the way it throbbed in your hand, twitching slightly as Dream rolled his head back and groaned "You're not usually this vocal, something change?" you smirked at him.

"That feels so good, so good.." Dream rolled his hips against you, legs closing together to give him a little more friction "Uh uh- open up." you slapped his thigh which made him open them back up reluctantly. You wanted to give in and let Dream fuck your insides but you fought the urges, today you were going to fuck him instead.

You took off his pants finally, letting the blonde boy relax more. "I'm gonna try something new with you, alright?" you didn't give Dream much time to answer as your hand dipped down between his legs, one of your fingers thrusting into his tight hole. "Ah! I- I've never touched there before!" Dream was feeling a little bit shy clearly.

"Your walls are sucking my fingers in so well, oh my god.. I should definitely buy a dildo or something for you.." you thought out loud to yourself. Dream quivered underneath you, his hole clenching around your finger at the thought of you fucking him with a toy. "M- More.." he was definitely feeling ashamed, his head turned away to face the wall.

You gave him what he wanted and stuck a second finger inside, curling them gently to press against his prostate. Dream squealed and covered his mouth to hide his lewd noises "Hands off." you instructed "But-" he protested "But nothing, hands off yourself or I'll stop touching you" you argued. Dream swallowed his pride and removed his hands, letting out a loud sound when your fingers thrusted deeper inside of him.

"Do you like this?" you asked "Of course- It feels so sO good!" Dream cried out "You like it more than when I play with your penis?" you questioned, Dream nodded and bit on his lip to keep quiet "So.. You'd let me do this again sometime?" you were starting to feel really excited "W-Whenever you want!!" Dream was now completely your bitch.

"I-I think I'm gonna cum, it feels sO weird!" Dream babbled on and on "Nuh uh- not unless you say you're my bitch." you wanted desperately to hear him say those little words "What??" you slowed down your pace and started to gently remove your fingers "No- No! I-I'm your bitch! I said it! I'm your bitch! Now please let me cum!" he bawled.

"Good boy.." You sped it up, not giving any mercy to his ass as you finger fucked him. "AH! I'm cumming! FUCK!" he arched his back, walls convulsing around your fingers as his hot white liquid spat out of his cock and ran down his legs. "Dirty slut, go clean yourself up" you snickered down at him before pulling your fingers out of his ass and leaving the bedroom.

You're not a monster so you obviously won't just be leaving him there, although it's not like you're gonna help him much. You grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and came back to hand it to him, he weakly reached out to grab the bottle but dropped it "Don't tell me.. Does my little slut need help drinking from a bottle? Pathetic.." you spat at him before drinking some of the water.

You grabbed his chin and opened it gently, spitting your water into his mouth for him to swallow. Dream gulped it down and flushed a deep red, "Thank you.." he thanked you and was flustered. "No problem, I love you baby." you kissed his cheek "I love you too, thank you for taking care of me today.. I think I liked it better when you were in charge.." Dream admitted "I was thinking the same thing, sweetheart" you smiled at him.

[clairecrive]

hi!!! can I ask for darkling smut after he and the reader get in an argument? like it starts out angry but by the end they're super passionate and cuddly? thank you and congrats on so many followers!!

A/n: you ask and you shall receive, hun! I love writing this so so much. I hope you'll like to read it too. Thanks for requesting and for your words xx This is also for this anon.

Warnings: angst, smut, fluff at the end

Word count: 2.9 K

Tags: @blackst0nes7077, @thefictionalgemini, @louweasleymalfoy @jupiterandbutterflies , @for-bebbanburg, @tarkanelima-blog, genre), @pansysgirlfriend, @acciorudolphx, @kaqua , @hannaxmaria, @vintagebitc, @deardiarystuff (if you want you can add yourself to my taglist by filling this form)

SHADOW AND BONE MASTERLIST

“You will not believe what-” y/n had the habit of not knocking before entering his room. The general had been more than annoyed with her initially, but she insisted that it was a way for him to distinguish her from everyone else.

Hear the door open? You don’t have to guess who it is, you’ll know it’s me, she used to tell him.

Now, however, she was wishing she didn’t have that habit in the first place. Stumbling into a room, your partner’s room, to find him standing way too close to another girl, wasn’t on her list for tonight. Maybe a warning would have been nice but at the same time, if she had knocked she wouldn’t have found them this way.

Her initial enthusiasm at the prospect of sharing this gossip with him had suddenly vanished. The smile on her face turned into a frown as Alina cleared her voice and took a step away from the general for decency’s sakes. Too late, y/n wanted to tell her.

It was painfully clear what she had interrupted. She willed her face to set into an emotionless expression but she couldn’t help a glance in Aleksander direction. Arms behind him, he looked nothing but proper and collected. But y/n knew him, probably better than anyone else in this world, and had learnt how to read his body. His jaw was clenched which meant that he wasn’t as calm as he wanted to appear.

Good, y/n thought, let him drown in guilt and misery.

Clearing her voice, she realized she had been standing there without saying anything for too long.

“I’m so sorry, General, I didn’t know you were busy. I should have knocked,” she excused herself without looking at them. “I’ll leave you to it.” With a slight nod, she added before hightailing out of the room.

She could feel Alina’s questioning gaze on her back as she closed the door behind her. There were already rumours going around about her supposed relationship with the General. No one knew for certain, neither y/n nor Kirigan had ever bothered confirming or denying them. Now though, she knew that words of this little encounter would spread, further cementing the already existing gossip.

Oh well, she thought as she walked to her room, by the looks of it there wasn’t going to be a relationship to gossip about anymore.

Her bedroom had lost every sense of familiarity and comfort a private space like this should have. She hardly ever slept in it anymore. Not since she and the general had become a thing. She only went there to change and so slipping into the bed felt weird and anonymous. As if she was in someone else’s bed and not hers.

Her sleep was doomed to be restless, she knew. However, tomorrow’s busy schedule prompted her to at least try and get some sleep. Even if it only was a couple of hours. Shuffling to change position she tried to keep Aleksander out of her mind.

An unachievable task, she was aware but she tried nonetheless. Things between them had been tense ever since he had come back to the Little Palace with her. y/n knew of his plans. She knew why he needed to do certain things and how Alina was involved. That didn’t mean she was fine with it though.

Not only did it bother her the fact that he was stripping the girl of her will and powers eventually but it also bothered her that he had chosen to get to her by manipulating her feelings. They had had countless fights because of this but nothing ever came out of it. A centuries-long existence meant that he was stubborn beyond belief and there was no way of making him change his mind once it was set on something.

After what she had witnessed today though, y/n wondered if the jokes were on him and he did end up feeling something genuine for Alina. Y/n herself had met her and spoke with her a couple of times and she had to admit begrudgingly that she wasn’t that bad.

Lost in her thoughts, y/n was snapped out of it by a loud knock at her door. As soon as she started to wonder who could be bothering her at this hour, the door opened and she stopped guessing.

Of course, it was him.

“I’m in no mood to talk to you, Aleksander. Please go.” She spoke, not bothering to turn towards where she knew he was standing. Y/n knew that while she couldn’t see him in the dark this wasn’t true for him. Shadows didn’t hinder his view like they did everyone else, they were an extension of him.

He didn’t speak but she also didn’t hear him walking away. She let out a sigh and that was the only way she was willing to acknowledge him. He wanted to stand in the shadow and stare like a creep? Fine, two could play this game.

Set on ignoring him, she stubbornly stared ahead of her. She was very aware of his eyes on her, stinging like needles. If sleep was arduous to achieve before now it was impossible. In any case, she closed her eyes and pretended to be at least. He wouldn’t know the difference and would leave her alone at some point.

But of course, she knew him well enough by now and he wasn’t as easily deterred. She didn’t know how much time passed but her eyes flew open as she felt her bed dip. Her breath hitched and she laid on full alert.

Then she felt the shadow of his touch on her neck and knew that he was close. Way too close that he should be. He was probably propped on his arm as she felt her pillow dip too.

“We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” He whispered close to her ears, his lips suggestively tracing her earlobe.

Despite the chills that his touch would usually send to her body, y/n stifled a treacherous gasp. Instead, her body stiffened and she almost pushed him away but she wasn’t sure that touching him wouldn’t backfire.

“If you think I’d let you lay a finger on me after you touched her, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“Who says I did?”

“Please, stick to manipulating one girl, okay? Move. away.”

He didn’t reply but the hand that was on her neck moved to her shoulder and pushed back so that she was laying on her back and facing him. Well, the darkness was too thick for her to actually see his face but she could feel his breath.

“Do not push me away.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Y/n bite back.

“You’re well aware of my plans, don’t act so betrayed now.”

“Well, maybe I’m tired of being a pawn in your schemes.”

“A pawn isn’t aware of its role nor of the whole plan.”

“Being smart with me won’t help, Aleksander. You want Alina? Fine, go get her. But leave me out of this.” Pulling her face free of his grip, she turned on her side. The shadows around him had dissipated a bit, allowing you to glimpse at his face.

“You cannot do this, y/n.” he growled, pushing her on her back again, “you said you were in this. You said you wanted me, that you were going to be by my side always. You can’t just change your mind. You can’t.” His voice was strangled with emotion almost breaking on some words.

Y/n had never heard his voice so filled with sorrow. Because that’s what he must be feeling. She thought that he was also feeling betrayed by her but then she realized-- no, he was afraid. Afraid of losing her.

He knew what he did and he also was aware that y/n was not one to mess with. She was just as stubborn as he was and just as prideful. What she had seen had hurt her and it was only what she felt for him that prevented him from being mindlessly dismissed and removed from her life. She had not resisted him more forcefully because she cared, because the wound was still french and that meant that there was still a tiny hope left.

“That was before you fell for another woman. I can’t stand by and watch you be with her. You can’t ask that of me.” She whispered, meeting his eyes. No matter how much she loved him, that was simply something she was not willing to put herself through.

“That’s not what I’m asking. That’s not what's happening.” He pledged. Y/n didn’t know if it was a trick of the moonlight seeping in from her window but she saw his eyes well with unshed tears.

“Isn’t it?”

“It isn’t.” He insisted, his hand on your jaw holding it closer. “Alina is a pawn, Alina doesn’t know what is going to happen, she doesn’t know me.” Heaving a sigh, Aleksander held her face, his thumb caressing her cheek.

“There is no one on this earth that has ever seen me more clearly than you do, solnishko. I know what you saw, I know what it looked like because that was intentional. But I trust you to know the difference between what it’s really happening and what it looks like because they’re not the same.” His eyes were alive with an intensity y/n had only seen a few times before. He was ancient and he was skilled at manipulation amongst other things. She always tried to keep that in mind but now, looking at him, she couldn’t help but feel like he was being genuine.

Why would he want me near? There wasn’t an ulterior motive for wanting her by her side. Yes, she was the only one who knew about his plans but that wasn’t it. If it was, he would have simply killed her. Took less time than this. Also, y/n knew that the power was in her hands. If she said no, that she couldn’t do this anymore, she was sure that Aleksander would let her go.

“But the way you were looking at her, Aleks, I just-” a lump formed in her throat as she recalled the look on his face, “you’re spending more and more time with her and I can’t help but fear that- I mean she’s literally the embodiment of sunshine.”

“You’ve never seen the way I look at you, then.” Thumb trailing over her lower lip now, he gave her a weak smile. “I swear that there’s no one dearer to me than you.”

“I’m not sure I can’t stand the idea of you kissing and touching her, Aleksander, I’m sorry.” Y/n insisted as well because she knew him and she knew that the way she worded things was crucial.

“That won’t happen then.” He assured but she was still not fully convinced.

“I promise it won’t come to that.” So Aleks rephrased. It was better but still not good enough. But they could work on that surely.

“It seems to me though, that I have not done a good job at showing you what you meant to me. I need to reinforce it, don’t you think?” He proposed, using the hand on her face to pull her closer to him.

“I agree.” y/n mumbled on his lips before they smashed together. She didn’t wait for him to initiate the kiss. She thought she had lost him tonight and had already been trying to plan her life without him. She wasn’t willing to waste any more time. She was going to show everyone that he was hers and only hers so as not to leave any more doubts around them. Fuck gossip.

Propping herself on her elbow she used it as leverage to reach up to meet him. The hand he had on her face moved backwards to hold her head while her hand did the same in his hair. Both of them pulled the other impossible close, not willing to leave the smallest of spaces between them.

Sitting up, y/n used her other hand to first the lapel of his kefta. She quickly unfasted the buttons to get rid of it before she pushed him on his back.

“She thinks she has a chance, uh.” She taunted as she straddled his waist, roughly gathering her sleeping gown around her waist while his hands instantly shot up to rest on her hips.

“She thinks she’ll be as lucky as seeing you like this?” she continued, her hands caressing his naked chest, “that she’ll have the chance of touching you? kissing you?” she leaned down, one hand at the nape of his head to make him meet her halfway. It wasn’t a long kiss, she needed to make a point after all. Pulling away, she bit his lower lip earning a moan from him.

“To feel you like this?” she whispered in his mouth as her hips wiggled over his clothed member. His hands tightened his hold on her hips, pushing her down on it increasing the pressure.

“She’s delusional,” Aleks gasped as her mouth trailed kisses along his jaw and neck where it nipped and sucked.

“Mh,” y/n agreed, “let’s make sure she knows.” She promised before her mouth went back to sucking a few hickeys on his neck. Aleks only moaned and gave her more space to work on. His hands trailed up from her waist, cupping her breasts before playing with her nipples.

As her mouth lowered on his collarbone, Aleks decided that enough was enough. His hands roughly gripped the end of her gown before hastily pulling it up and off her body. One arm snaked over her waist pulling her flush against him as he sat up.

“Enough teasing,” he warned as the hand that wasn’t on her quickly discarded his undergarments.

“As you wish, moy sovregni,” she whispered sultrily on his lips knowing fully what effect those words had on him. Aleksander growled on her mouth, his hands kneading her ass cheeks as he gently lowered her on him.

Gasping as she felt every inch of him enter her, y/n gripped his shoulders as she started to move. Aleks’ hands guided her as she set a steady pace.

“She’s never going to feel your hands on her body,” she breathed as Aleks’ hips snapped up, setting a rougher pace.

“You’re mine.” She growled possessively on his lips as her hips met his.

“I’m yours, y/n. Just as you’re mine.” His tone matched hers. He sealed his promise with a bruising kiss. The trusting was becoming more and more frantic and Aleks’ could feel y/n clench around him.

With no previous warning, he lowered his hands from her ass to her thighs so that he could hold her while he changed their position. Guiding her legs to wrap around his waist, Aleksander leaned on his knees while he pushed her upper body down with his chest. Y/n gasped on his lips not knowing if it was for the movement, for the change of position that meant that he was now able to reach deeper than before or because she could feel her orgasm approaching.

Whatever the reason may be, Aleks swallowed her gasp as his lips refused to leave hers. Snapping his hips, he moved his hands from her legs. One went to stimulate her clit while the other choked her lightly. He knew that this combo would prove to send her over the edge. Not long after, as a matter of fact, he felt y/n’s nails on his shoulders as well as her walls tightening around him. He was not behind.

While y/n whimpered his name over and over as her orgasm hit her, Aleksander’s thrusts began to falter. With one deep thrust, he emptied inside her, obscene sounds leaving his mouth.

He leaned over y/n’s body, both of their breaths heavy, they basked in the afterglow. Aleks’ head rested over her chest, comforted by her steady heartbeat while y/n’s hands trailed over his back.

Once their breath had levelled and they could regain control over their limbs, Aleks propped himself over his elbow, his nose nuzzling y/n’s making her giggle at the soft touch. She loved these rare moments of softness and intimacy between them. If she could, she’d never let them end.

“I promise you’ll never have to doubt me again.”

“If you keep this up, it’d be impossible for me to.” She chuckled, referring to her limp body. She couldn’t trust her body to move. Sex with Aleksander always had this effect on her.

“Good to know I can still satisfy you.” He smirked as he leaned down for a small kiss. Giggling on his lips, y/n pulled him close, making him rest his weight on her rather than his elbow.

“I’m thoroughly sated, my love. You have nothing to worry about in that department.” Aleks couldn’t see her but could feel the smirk on her lips. Intertwining their legs, he got more comfortable on her. Her arms held him in a tight embrace.

“You’ll do well to remember it, dearest.” His voice came out muffled since his face rested between her breasts but y/n got what he meant anyway. Laughing at the idea that she could ever need anyone else, y/n held him closer to her chest. The embrace her form of a promise to him.

She had everything she’d ever need right here in her arms.

[seijorhi]

Bully ~ Part II

Oikawa Tooru x female reader (+ Iwaizumi Hajime)

TW dub/non-con, bullying, slight degradation, voyeurism, filming, implied abuse, one mention of slapping, nsfw

Part I

‘Honey, it’s your choice. Whatever you decide to do, we’ll respect.’

The final whistle sounds, the team gathering up in a huddle and with a sigh you dutifully close your books and begin to pack them away into your bag. They still have to pull down all the nets and tidy up, but that never takes too long and the sooner you’re all out of here the better.

The sooner you can get away from them, the better.

It’s become routine at this point for you to slowly make your way down to the edge of the court while they duck into the locker room; the other third years acknowledging you with friendly enough smiles, the underclassmen no longer staring at you in vague confusion. 

But at this point you’re truly beyond caring what any of them think of your relationship with their Captain. 

Except instead of filing out like the rest of his teammates, Oikawa’s still on the far side of the court, trapped in a conversation with Coach Irihata and Mizoguchi. For a split second, his attention shifts towards you, lingering awkwardly by the big double doors, and you think you catch a flicker of irritation in his eyes – which is unusual, considering that he’s made this game his life and he has nothing but the greatest respect for both of the men before him. 

But it doesn’t really matter, you suppose. You’ll wait for him, whether it’s five minutes or fifty and he’ll either tell you what’s pissing him off, or he won’t and he’ll end up using you to work out his frustrations anyway.

With your parents away for the rest of the week and your house otherwise empty, you can only pray to any god that’ll listen that he won’t try and spend the night. Not that there’s much you can do to stop him, but a girl can dream, right?

The others are heading off, Makki laughing off some biting comment from Kyoutani, but you pay them no mind. Despite being the people you now spend the majority of your time with, they’re not your friends. 

You resign yourself to trudging back up into the stands to wait for Oikawa to finish up when a hand gently wraps around your arm, spinning you around. You start, every muscle in your body tensing on instinct, but as you come face to face with familiar olive eyes you relax – it’s only Iwa.

He regards you silently for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face before he glances over your shoulder to where Oikawa’s still talking with the coaches. 

“C’mon, they’ll be a while, I think. Let me walk you home.”

His place is almost a fifteen minute walk from yours, but you don’t bother trying to bring that up. Instead, you just shrug, shifting the strap of the bag slung over your shoulder, “It’s fine. I don’t need an escort, you know, it’s not that late.”

Maybe it’d be nice for once, walking home without Oikawa’s looming presence over your shoulder. You’re almost positive that he’ll still come by afterwards, especially because he knows as well as you do that there’s nobody to interrupt tonight, but you’ll take the tiny wins when you can.

Besides, you only have to stick it out a little while longer. 

Still holding onto your arm, Iwa’s eyebrows draw together into a slight frown and he bites back a sigh, “Shittykawa’ll throw a hissy-fit if I let you walk home alone tonight. C’mon.”

He’s not asking, you realise belatedly as he firmly but gently starts to lead you out of the gym, not sparing his best friend another glance. And you could probably dig your heels in and kick up a fuss and he’d probably let you go – at least, you think he would. He would, right? He’d listen if you asked him to stop – but what’s the point?

Nobody here actually cares what you want anymore.

Iwa’s different, you suppose. You don’t really know why. He’s just as complicit as the others, maybe even more so – he at least knows what’s going on, even if he refuses to acknowledge it or do anything about it… but that’s not entirely true, is it?

He’s the one to step in when Oikawa starts to take things too far in public. He’s the one to scare off your would be bullies, snarling and glaring at them from his place at your side. Iwa’s the reason you haven’t lost it completely, the one keeping your head above water. He’s a friend you suppose, or at least the closest thing Oikawa’ll let you have anymore.

He’s certainly the only one Tooru trusts with you whenever he’s not around, hence you haven’t heard any indignant shouts from the gym following in your wake despite the grip he has on you.

And Iwa is nice, in his own way. He cares about you, you think – or he cares enough to pretend for Oikawa’s sake. Either way, at least you know he won’t try to pull you down an alleyway and force you to suck his cock, so compared to your other options, he’s definitely the lesser of two evils. 

It’s quiet as the two of you walk, and you find yourself thankful for it. Oikawa’s always talking, he never shuts up, his incessant chatter shattering every moment of quiet, peaceful solitude you try to steal for yourself. 

And tonight, tonight your head’s already too full to pretend to play along with some semblance of chipper friendliness. 

Maybe that’s why you like Iwaizumi; you don’t have to pretend with him. He knows exactly what Oikawa is, and he’s too intelligent to believe that you’re content spending every waking moment by the setter’s side, much less that you genuinely love him. 

It’s a nice night, at least – there’s barely any clouds in the sky. You can see the stars glittering in the inky, midnight blue, and it’s peaceful, you think, with Iwa strolling quietly along beside you. 

Even when the breeze starts to pick up, the late summer night air nipping at your exposed skin. Your jacket’s folded up and shoved somewhere towards the bottom of your bag, but you honestly can’t be bothered to stop and ferret for it. 

“You’re cold,” Iwa states after a beat. Again, not a question.

Nevertheless, you shake your head. “I’m fine,” you reply, perhaps a little tersely, but he’s already shrugging off his own jacket and draping it over your shoulders. Oikawa would do the same thing, more out of a perverse sense of enjoyment from seeing you wearing his clothes than a genuine sense of concern over your comfort.

Still, you don’t fight Iwa on it, pulling his jacket tighter over your body. It’s warm, his lingering body heat making your own cheeks burn a little, and it smells like him, too. Musky, yes, but there’s something almost comforting about the fresh, woodsy scent.

Silence resumes between the two of you, but you feel the weight of his stare as the two of you wander along the path. Iwaizumi’s always been perceptive, more so than most give him credit for, and it’s only another few minutes before he speaks again.

“You’re quiet tonight.”

You hum noncommittally, staring resolutely at the concrete sidewalk rather than meet his pointed gaze. 

He huffs. “You gonna tell me what’s bothering you or not?” he tries again, the sheer bluntness almost enough to make you flinch.

“And what makes you think there’s anything bothering me?” you reply dully, kicking at the small little pebble on the pathway in front of you.

Iwa stiffens just a fraction, but you feel it – the shift in the air between the two of you. It’s the truth you won’t speak, the one he won’t acknowledge. Of course there’s something bothering you; this whole fucked up situation between the three of you. It’s not normal, it’s not healthy, surely he sees that, how the hell can he–

“Cut the bullshit,” he snaps. “You think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been acting lately? Something’s up, and if you think I’m the only one who’s paying attention…” he trails off, and suddenly his hand’s catching at yours, pulling you to a stop.

And when finally you drag your eyes up to meet his, your heartbeat quickens at the scowl written across his face, plain as day. 

“I’m not talking about… that. Did he–” he hesitates, biting down on his lip and you honestly don’t know whether you want to laugh or cry. “Something’s up.”

You could probably tell him to mind his own business, and part of you almost wants to. He might even listen, though he wouldn’t be happy about it, but the thing is, you’re just so tired. Tired of playing girlfriend for Oikawa, tired of being dragged along against your will, manhandled and fucked at every opportunity, tired of pretending that this is in any way okay, and you just want to finally give in and admit it out loud.

You want this to be over, and it’s so close you can almost fucking taste it. 

So you breathe deep, forcing yourself to relax. “My mom got a job in Tokyo. My parents… they’re leaving at the end of next week. Moving. It’s why they haven't been around much lately.”

Iwaizumi’s eyebrows furrow into a frown as he takes a second to absorb the information. “And… you? We only have a few months left until we graduate.”

You allow him a wry smile. “I know. They gave me a choice, I’m eighteen, I can stay here in the house by myself, finish up the year and graduate at Aoba Johsai before moving down with them…”

“Or?” he prods.

“Or,” you continue, “or I can go now. There’s some really good schools down there, I could have my pick. It’ll be a struggle, I know, transferring so late in the term, but–”

Iwaizumi scoffs, cutting you off, “But you’re not actually gonna go, right? You can’t just pack up and leave so close to graduation. You’re staying here in Miyagi.” 

He almost sounds angry– the muscle in his jaw’s twitching and as you stare at him you realise that he doesn’t sound angry; he is angry. His whole body’s tensed like he’s preparing for a fight, and it takes you by surprise. 

Sure, he’s pretty much the only person outside of Oikawa that you’d consider yourself to have any kind of relationship with anymore, but you’d never really thought he’d actually–

“Iwa,” you say gently, “I was gonna go to Tokyo after graduation anyway. Sure, it’s not exactly an ideal situation, but…” 

But it’s your chance to get away from all of this, from Oikawa, and you’re gonna take it and run. Whether or not Tokyo University accepts you, whether it means you have to work three times as hard to adjust to a new school’s curriculum just so you won’t completely flunk your final exams. 

It can’t be any worse than this.

He has to understand that. 

And really, what did he think was going to happen after graduation? You know Oikawa’s plans, and you’ll be damned if you let him ruin your life anymore than he already has, dragging you halfway across the world. You belong here, in Japan. Oikawa can go chase his pipe dreams on his own. 

He swallows tightly, and while the pinched scowl on his face doesn’t falter, his grip on your wrist eases just a fraction. “You were really just gonna leave without telling anybody?” he asks, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

“Who would I tell?”

—

Sure enough, it’s a little after midnight when your bedroom door sweeps open and Oikawa strides in like he owns the place. You watch through half lidded eyes as he starts to shed his clothes, stripping off and tossing them haphazardly onto the floor until he’s just in his boxers. 

He doesn’t say much as he lifts the covers and climbs into bed beside you, merely presses a surprisingly gentle kiss to your cheek, murmuring a quiet, ‘Just sleep, cutie,’ when you try to shift away from him.

He sounds tired, exhausted really, but you don’t care enough to comment, relieved more than anything that tonight he doesn’t seem to have the energy for more. There’d been some part of you that was worried that Iwa might have told him about the walk home – the secrets you’d unthinkingly entrusted to him – but he can’t have. There’s no possible way Oikawa would be so calm right now if he had. 

And Iwa wouldn’t do something like that in the first place. 

It might not have been the most traditional of friendships, and you know he’s still a little pissed off with your decision and the fact you had no intentions of telling him, but Iwa wouldn’t break your trust like that. 

And so with Oikawa’s arms wrapped around your middle, the warmth of his chest pressed up against your back, you allow sleep to claim you once more.

—

You hardly see him the following morning. 

There’s no sign of him when you wake up, though his side of the bed is still warm – you know he likes to run in the mornings; he probably ran home to shower before school. And if you’re grateful to Aoba Johsai for anything, it’s for putting the two of you in separate classes. You’re spared his presence and those of his mooney eyed fangirls, and you can actually focus on learning. Or try to, at least.

Iwa regards you with an unreadable expression when you take your usual seat at the desk next to his, but at least he doesn’t seem as pissed off as he was when he left you last night. You only have a week and a half left until you go, but considering he’s the closest thing you have to a friend anymore, you’re not sure how you would survive if he suddenly decided to give you the cold shoulder.

Still, he is quieter than usual as you both settle into class, and you can’t help your gaze from flickering over to him throughout the lesson, an uncomfortable pit settling into your stomach. Iwa doesn’t so much as look your way, busying himself in copying down the notes the teacher’s scrawling on the board.

You honestly didn’t expect him to be hurt, and as he brushes past you on his way out after the bell rings you begin to doubt whether you should have told him at all. It stings, more than you expect.

Yet the moment you try to follow him, calling out his name, a familiar figure steps in front of you, halting you in your tracks. 

“Hey, cutie,” Oikawa purrs, grinning down at you as he reaches out to tuck a stray lock of hair back behind your ear. “I’ve missed you today. Come on, let’s go somewhere a little quieter.”

His fingers are laced with yours, tugging you along before you can even try to voice a protest. You both know you wouldn’t anyway, not anymore. 

Just like you don’t speak up when instead of dragging you outside to the courtyard, or even to the gym, he chooses an empty classroom, kicking the door shut behind him. 

There’s a question on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t have a chance to voice it as he grabs you by the collar of your shirt and smashes his lips to yours. 

Oikawa usually likes to take his time, to drag out your humiliation and reluctant pleasure as he toys with you, but today he wastes no time in shoving you back up against one of the desk, his fingers already yanking down your necktie and prying your lilac shirt open – buttons scattering as it rips.

“Tooru–” you gasp, panic flaring, but his lips curl into a smirk as he forces you back into another kiss.

“Quiet now, cutie, let me take care of my pretty girl, hm?” he growls between panting breaths. “You don’t want somebody stumbling in and interrupting us, do you?”

And your chest tightens, squeezing around your lungs like a vice, your gaze flickering back to the door – shut but not locked.

“Tooru,” you whisper again in a panic, clutching at the lapels of his blazer as he draws back enough to level a gaze at your chest, bare save for the virginal white lace bra you’d unthinkingly chosen that morning. 

His grin widens, but there’s something cold and utterly unflinching in his eyes as they flicker up to meet yours. “Lean back,” he tells you.

You shake your head, “I d-don’t–”

His hands are on your shoulders, abruptly shoving you backwards. “I said,” he coos as you sprawl back onto the wooden desktop with a startled squeak, “lean back for me.”

It’s been months since you’ve fought him, but as he flips up your skirt, fingers grazing possessively along the cotton of your panties and he sighs contentedly, sheer panic floods your system, overwhelming your better judgement. Before you can stop yourself your knees come up as you desperately scramble to right yourself, to put an end to this–

The slap to your cheek isn’t all that forceful, at least not compared to what you know him to be capable of, but it still takes you by surprise, the sharp, burning sting only registering as the shock of the blow fades.

Oikawa’s no longer grinning, his face twisted into a terrifying glare as wide, teary eyes stare back up at him. “Baby, you’re really testing me right now. You want to act like a disobedient little bitch, kick up a fuss, bring everybody running so they can see what a needy little whore you are, spread out on the table for me?” He snatches at your panties, harshly wrenching them down your now prone legs with one hand, the other reaching for his belt buckle, “You think you have a choice here? You think I give a fuck what you want?”

Your ears are ringing, the sound of your own heartbeat drowning out almost everything else.

It’s not the first time he’s hit you, or even the hardest, but with that one slap all the fight you have left just dissipates. You don’t even flinch when he spits directly onto your pussy, his thumb harshly spreading his saliva over your cunt – you just bite down on your lip to stifle the sob that threatens to burst.

And victory shines bright in his eyes at the sight of it. 

“Good girl, you know who this pretty pussy belongs to, don’t you?” he croons with saccharine sweetness, even leaning over to press a tender, affectionate kiss to your swollen lips. 

And you’d squeeze your eyes shut and try to imagine that you’re somewhere else, anywhere else if you didn’t know how much he hates it when you do. So instead, you lie there pliant and trembling, humiliation burning hot as he spreads your legs, pressing your thighs back towards your chest as he slots himself in between them.

“You look so good like this, you know?” he muses with a soft little chuckle as he leisurely strokes his cock, letting the flushed tip brush teasingly along your folds, nudging at your clit. “Prettiest little thing, and all mine, aren’t you, cutie.”

Tears well and spill soundlessly down your cheek, but your only answering is the hiccuping breath you draw in, your fingers finding purchase on the edges of the desk as he guides it back to your entrance.

It doesn’t matter that you’re not nearly ready for him, that his spit and the pre-cum that’s beading at his slit isn’t going to help ease his passage in the slightest. He’ll fuck you how he wants to – and you’re too broken to try and stop him.

Yet instead of savagely plunging in like you expect him to, Oikawa stills, regarding you with a tilted head and a cruel smirk. 

“Fuck,” he curses quietly, the sound almost reverent as he stares down at you. He shakes his head, another soft laugh bubbling out, “I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of seeing you like this, but if you’re going to be running off on me so soon, maybe I should take a little memento, what do you think cutie?”

Your stomach drops, dread creeping down your spine as Oikawa reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, opening up the camera and flicking it across to video. 

“I mean if this is going to be our last time together, don’t you think we should make it special?” You jerk, your breath coming out in short, harsh pants but you can’t move, can’t seem to lift a single finger as he leans in closer, bringing his lips to your ear, “That way we both have something to remember this by.”

And as his breath ghosts the tiny hairs on the shell of your ear he laughs again, pressing another quick kiss to your flushed, tear stained cheek. “Aw, don’t cry, cutie. You brought this on yourself.”

You don’t have a moment to prepare yourself, his hand slamming over your lips to muffle your shrieks as he thrusts his hips forward, sheathing himself in your tight little cunt with a choked moan.

“F-fuck, baby,” he grits out, biting down on his own lip as he relishes the vice like grip your pussy has on his throbbing cock, “Smile for the camera.”

Your back arcs up off the table, fingernails digging into the wood as he draws his hips back slowly, letting you feel every inch of his cock as it drags along your walls until it’s only the tip that remains inside of you.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts – a sharp and throbbing pain that only grows with each passing second. 

There’s something sadistic in his grin as he angles the phone down to where your bodies meet, your lewdly spread thighs, your glistening pussy in perfect view as another glob of saliva joins the first, pooling over your sex, sliding down his cock.

“You have no idea how perfect your pussy feels, baby,” he pants, slowly filling you up once more – your own wails stifled by his hand. “You’re mine, all fucking mine, aren’t you?”

There’s no hiding from the camera as he fucks you, slowly at first, but picking up his pace as the slick starts to build, your warm, velvety walls sucking him in deeper, squelching obscenely with every thrust. And between the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass – skin hitting skin as he fucks you roughly without care – and Tooru’s own satisfied moans, your muffled whimpers and cries go unheard. 

And just when you think your humiliation is complete, he takes his hand from your mouth, his thumb returning to your clit, teasing at the sensitive nub with slow, measured circles that have you keening, shaking beneath him as he stuffs you full. Slowly but surely that searing ache gives way to pleasure, a slight shift of his hips and his cock’s hitting that sweet spot he’s all too familiar with – and another strangled moan slips out.

“You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”

You shake your head, fingernails digging into the wood, biting down harshly to keep yourself quiet as you feel that familiar heat pooling in your core, wanton pleasure flickering through you with every swipe of his fingers, every harsh thrust.

“No? You sure about that?” he laughs at the desperate whine that slips from your lips, “I wanna hear it, baby. Cum for me.”

But you can’t, you can’t make a sound, the door’s not locked, the door’s not locked and anybody could walk in any second, but you can feel it coming, your legs shaking and toes curling as your control slips–

“Cum,” Oikawa demands, his own voice a husky, shivering growl, and this time you’re helpless but to obey.

Your orgasm crashes into you like a wave, suddenly sweeping your legs out from under you. You arc up off the table once more, white hot pleasure exploding as you shiver and quake, your pussy clamping down on his cock and gushing as he fucks you relentlessly through it, chasing his end while drawing out your own.

And you’re so lost in the bliss, the pleasurable rippling aftershocks short circuiting your system that you don’t even realise that he’s pulled himself out of your cunt, stroking his slicked up cock with harsh pants–

Not until you feel the hot spurts of his cum hitting your stomach, a choked moan resembling your name shattering the fuzzy afterglow, dragging you harshly back down to reality.

There’s a twisted, self satisfied smirk on his face as he watches the cold realisation sink in, your eyes filling with fresh tears as your gaze flickers between him and the phone in his hand, still filming.

“You’re not leaving me,” he says, still a little breathless. “You’re mine. Isn’t that right, Iwa?”

No.

Please god, no.

Blood drains from your face, the pit in your stomach plummeting as his smirk widens and he turns his head to glance over his shoulder. You don’t want to look, can’t bear to, but it’s like trying to rip your eyes away from a car crash; your body moves with a will of its own. Heart pounding, nausea churning in your gut, you follow his gaze to find Iwaizumi by the door; jaw tight, arms folded across his chest, staring impassively back at you.

And that last little piece of you breaks.

[sirenascales]

Hiya! I should definitely start this by saying that I love, LOVE your works ahh. <33 I’m so glad you opened the anon bc I’m shy af when it comes to requesting🥺

I don’t know if you write for him but if you do, I’d like to request a fully NSFW dom!Kunikida x fem!Reader fic with the prompts “You want me to give you your notebook back? You’ll have to make me.” coming from the reader and “You better shut that pretty little mouth before I put it to work, doll.” from Kunikida, I thought it could be fun 😈👀 dominant Kunikida who angry-fucks makes me go weak at the knees

You can include any kinks you want, I’m OK with anything, I’m even more OK with choking and degrading kinks so yeah😇

Thank you so much if you ever decide to write it, if you’re uncomfortable feel free to ignore <3

note: so... this turned out... a bit different? lmfao im sorry, i hope this is still okay. I really just couldn't make him super aggressive or like super kinky? I really don't see him being like that... definitely a bit soft dom-y but thats about it 😩 still, i liked how this turned out and i hope you do too!

warnings: nsfw, smut, smallest bit of angst,

-> Taking Kunikida's notebook hostage. 18+

You could tell by the twitch in Kunikida's eye that he was livid. Beyond pissed off. He was already four minutes behind for his commute to work, yet he couldn't leave. Why? You were basically holding his precious notebook hostage, holding it tightly to your chest as you stared at him defiantly.

Kunikida took a deep breath through his nose, closing his eyes briefly in an attempt to calm himself. "Please, give me my notebook."

"No."

His teeth clenched. "Give me my notebook."

"You want me to give you your notebook back? You’ll have to make me," were the words you spoke next, your lips curling up when Kunikida's face goes completely blank, his green eyes just boring into you.

"I'm going to ask you one more time," his tone is even, though still with the bit of edge that had a chill going up your spine. "Please, give me the notebook. I am already late for work."

That struck a very deep nerve inside of you, your chest blooming with anger as you snarled at him. "Work, work, work! It's all about your fucking job! Well, you're not getting your notebook back, so suck it!"

As you turned on your heel and stormed away from Kunikida, he watched you with wide eyes, his mouth slightly opened as he is hit with a suddenly realization. He saw the hurt which flashed in your eyes before you walked away, and that made him surge forward to follow you, right into your bedroom.

He knew exactly what you were doing by acting like a brat and talking back to him. You were purposely trying to instigate a reaction from him, to make him act, and he was more than inclined to do so.

"What are you still doing here?" you asked, a bite to your voice as you glared at him. Kunikida closed the bedroom door and you watched as he slipped his glasses off his face, setting them down carefully on their rightful place on the nightstand. "Don't you have a job to do? I'm sure Dazai is waiting."

Kunikida is silent as you continued to huff and puff, keeping his eye on his notebook still held against your chest. He slipped off his vest, hanging it on its hanger and putting it away. He he started to looses up the red ribbon around his collar and you just furrowed your eyebrows at him, taking a few steps back as he finally approached you.

"You- What are you-" His large hand is then suddenly clamping over your mouth, successfully shutting you up as he leaned down to stare straight into your wide eyes.

"You better shut that pretty little mouth before I put it to work, doll."

Another chill goes down your spine, your grip on the notebook finally loosening up and it begins to fall. Kunikida skillfully catches it, quickly holding it up high as you suddenly leap forward in an attempt to grab it.

"No! Give it back!" you yelled almost desperately, and the look that Kunikida fixes you with makes you freeze in place.

"You are in no position to make orders here, doll," he says to you, setting down his notebook on the dresser before turning back to you. "You wanted my attention, right? Now you got it. Take off your clothes and get on the bed."

You couldn't contain your glee, a huge megawatt smile growing on your face as you did as told. You couldn't ever defy him, not when he was like this. It made your heart race, skin tingling with anticipation.

It felt so good to finally feel Kunikida's warm skin on yours, to feel his strong hands hold you, claim you, as his. He wasn't rough with you, no, but as always, you were pliant under him. Always so reactive to his touch, his fingers expertly pinching your nipples, making you moan deeply against his lips as he kisses you deeply.

You missed him so much.

You clung onto him tightly, taking his kisses in earnest, and soon his cock as he finally, finally pushes himself inside of you, moaning deeply together with you.

"Shit," he curses while you whine, your head tilted back against the pillow as he slowly started thrusting in and out of you. He took your hands from his shoulders, his fingers lacing with yours as he held them down against the bed. As he continued to slap his hips against yours, fucking you hard and deep like you deserve, the sun shining from the window reflected off the rings you each had on your respective ring fingers.

"D-Doppo..." you moaned his name deeply, whimpering which each thrust he made into your heat, the pleasure he never fails to bring you making your mind go hazy. All you could feel was him, after what seemed to be so long.

You've been so lonely, your husband so caught up with work. He would come home late, and too tired to do much with you. You will always love him for how dedicated he is but... you were a priority too. You had to do something to finally have his attention back on you. What better way was there than to take his notebook? It obviously worked.

He was holding you so close to him, making love to you, his wife. It's what you deserved, and he knew that, and he knew that he has been neglecting you, taking your love for granted. It was shameful of him, really, but he planned to make it up to you.

But first...

"Come on," he grunted, sitting upright before he pulled you up, making you straddle his lap. You wrapped your arms around him tightly, his hands finding purchase on your hips as you started to ride him. You matched your thrusts with his, tossing your head back when he presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing it in tight circles. "Come on, need you to cum..."

"I love you," you cried out, looking at him with blown out, teary eyes, your lips swollen and plump. Kunikida couldn't resist kissing you again.

It didn't take much longer for your orgasm to finally wash over your body, your mouth wide open in a silent scream as your body tensed up, toes curling and your mind going blank for a second. Kunikida continued to fuck you through your orgasm, soon coming to his own release. He didn't think twice before cumming deep inside of you, his face pressed against your chest as he cursed and grunted repeatedly.

You fell back on the bed after Kunikida pulled out of you, heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Kunikida fell on his back beside you, equally tuckered out, his face sheening with sweat.

"Wow..." you whispered before covering your mouth, giggling softly.

Kunikida just sighed beside you, turning his head to look at you fondly, and apologetically. "I've been a terrible husband."

Your mouth fell open. You didn't want him to think that! "Wait... no-"

"I've been neglecting you. For that, I am terribly sorry." Kunikida just continued on and you just shook your head quickly, moving your hands to cover his mouth.

"You are not a terrible husband," you told him firmly before pulling your hands. You both frowned. "I just... I missed you a lot. I know you are dedicated to your work and I love you so much for that but... I don't know, it just made me feel like I wasn't... a priority..."

Kunikida's entire body stiffened, his mouth falling open. "H-how does that not make me a terrible husband?"

"Because!" you exclaimed, waving your hands a bit wildly. "You aren't! Every day I wake up so proud to be your wife! I just... had a moment of insecurity..." You chewed on your bottom lip, knowing that you probably weren't making sense. But it was how you truly felt, and you wanted to be honest with him.

He seemed to understand it, Kunikida nodding his head before he sat up, looking around the room. "I need my phone..."

You blinked. "For what?"

"I'm taking time off," Kunikida answered and your jaw dropped. "My wife needs her husband now," he continues, glancing at you with a small smile. "Plus, we need to have a conversation about this, so something like this won't happen again."

You smiled back at him. "So your notebook won't be held hostage?" you teased, giggling when his eyebrow twitched.

"Yes. Exactly."

You giggled again, leaning forward and pressing a sweet kiss on his cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Requests are closed!

[littlemisslipbalm]

“you make me so angry sometimes”

idk if this gif makes sense, but i feel like it will if you read the story, it just gives me that vibe. 

A one shot I cooked up idk, it’s about Harry and a makeup artist on DWD, it’s quite angsty, idk how that happened, it’s also very long, idk how that happened either, maybe i do a part 2, maybe i don’t idk lmk. Feedback is appreciated, not proofread. REBLOGS help writers tremendously and i love reading whatever you write in the tags its my favorite thing!! Love yall and Merry Christmas!

Word Count: 17.7k | Warnings: ENEMIES to LOVERS! swearing, angst!, some anxiety -like self-doubt, yn being mean to harry kind of a lot, i dont remember, nothing too crazy, Nick Kroll?, lots of conversation

-

When she pictured herself as a makeup artist in Los Angeles, she hadn’t pictured exactly what she was doing right now.

She had expected doing gorgeous makeup for gorgeous actresses or doing wildly fun stuff like in Euphoria. And because of that she had worked her ass off to get where she was today. She had practiced for hours, worked countless hours for free, and networked to the cows came fucking home.

So why the fuck was she using tattoo-strength concealer to cover up the maybe 60 tattoos some asshole musician turned actor had all over?

Don’t Worry Darling was her first major film to work on so she couldn’t complain. She was happy to simply be there. Well she had been. The first day she had showed up 15 minutes early and had worn her favorite power suit she had. It was dark navy with a white lace long sleeve turtleneck underneath. She hoped to look fun but professional.

Hollywood was all about impressions, especially first ones, even when you’re the makeup artist. She had quickly learned that she was one of six makeup artists. One of them being the friend who had helped her get the job, Angie. Angie was like her surrogate mother in Los Angeles that she had met on her first film job for something much less high profile than Olivia Wilde’s second directing project. Her braided grey hair and fabulous jeans had drawn Y/N right in and they had connected instantly.

Since Y/N was deemed the most inexperienced by the head of the makeup department, she was relegated to easier jobs: assisting the other artists on main characters sometimes, mostly dealing with minor characters touch ups (and full make-up if she was lucky), and the job nobody wanted: tattoo coverage.

Harry Styles was one of the leads for the film and besides his minimal acting, everyone knew he was a worldwide rockstar. With the rock and roll life starting off as a popstar life at the ripe age of 16, he had amassed around 60 tattoos in the past decade. Impressive by her standard normally. She usually counted herself as an appreciator of tattoos and their art, finding them similar to makeup and the self expression that came with both forms. Especially since she had a few of her own, but when she walked into Trailer #6 and saw a good amount of Harry’s tattoos, she wanted to murder every artist he’d ever been to.

She had to make an inventory the first day of all of his visible tattoos when he was just wearing boxers. He had been friendly, trying to make conversation, but as the time wore on, they both grew tired and silent. She had to write down the location and a description of every tattoo and as he took off everything but boxers she grew more and more annoyed with his random and dumb tattoos. Some of them were amazing, the eagle, the anchor, the butterfly, and the ferns were probably her favorites. But some of them, she couldn't hold back her rolling eyes and annoyed expressions. The “Big” on his right big toe, a miniscule lock, almost everything on his inner left arm (the packers logo, Pingu, etc.)

She traces at the rose and the ship and then flips his arm out to reveal his inner arm to her gaze. “That is a big fucking bee.”

He snickers, “Y’like it?”

She ignores his question. “For god’s sake, someone is needle happy,” she said as she examined his left arm, taking note of every permanent drawing.

He shrugs his right shoulder, uninhibited by her prodding. “Dunno, beginning to regret some of them.”

“I would hope,” she mutters, scribbling on her paper the various ones she had just seen on his arm. Next was his ribcage ones.

He scoffs, “Oi, it’s not like you haven’t got any.”

“How would you-” She looks at him wide eyed.

“Right…” he takes his right hand and pushes her hair past her ear to reveal three little red line butterflies following the curve of her ear, “There. At least.”

She huffs and knocks his hand away from her. Her hair falling back into its place.

“Maybe some located in a few more intimate places I’m guessing from the red rushing to your cheeks right now.”

“Can you just let me do my job,” she says, not giving in to his teasing or sparing him a glance as she feels his intense gaze on her face. She was studying his left rib cage where a few cool tattoos happened to be.

“You at least have some taste or persuasive artists because not all of these are shit,” she speaks again after just the sound of her pen on the paper filled the trailer.

“Gee, thanks,” he laughs unamused and rolls his large green eyes.

She thought he had some of the biggest eyes she’d ever seen. But she also knew to keep that to herself because he’d either take it as a compliment and think she was noticing him too much or he’d take it as a massive insult and get her fired.

His right hand taps at his thigh, tapping a rhythm she didn’t care to pay any attention too. She just wanted to finish the stupid inventory of the stupid tattoos on this stupid man.

“Take those off,” she says to Harry, looking back at her clipboard again, filling up quickly with her notes.

He stands there, staring at her stubbornly. He was entirely bored with this exercise, especially since his company was some of the worst he’s ever had. She spares him a glance when she doesn’t notice any slipping off of the colorful sweatpants he’s wearing.

She arches a brow at him, her pen tapping impatiently against the paper. “Go on. Can’t imagine you want this to go on longer than it already has.”

He rolls his eyes again, slipping his thumbs into the waistline of the pants and tugging down. Simultaneously, he toes off the dirty vans he seemed to wear everywhere. The fabric pools easily and he steps out of them and discards them on the couch behind him. He’s actually wearing black briefs. She chooses not to notice anything further than that.

“Socks...can stay on,” She tries to say as he begins to peel one off. He stops midway and nods.

She flings his shirt to him, not needing to see his naked torso for another moment, “I know you’ve got some feet and ankle tats, but I also know that you won’t be wearing anything that will expose them. Thank your lucky stars that I don’t have to makeup your feet.”

He catches the shirt easily and slips his arms inside before tugging it quickly over his head and over his expansive shoulders. The ferns disappear out of sight.

“Well then we’re almost done then. Just got the knee ones -”

“And the tiger. That’s gonna be one son of a bitch,” she sighs and examines his legs, not bothering to crouch.

“What the actual fuck dude?” Her tone is exasperate and like she would rather be anywhere else than here.

“I’m sorry?” He sputters, hands on his hips and eyes bewildered.

“Yes. No. Oui. Non. Who are you?” She rubs at her eyes and shakers her head.

“S’a little rude.”

“You’re right,” she semi-rushes out at his serious tone, ready to apologize. When a grin spreads over his face and he chuckles under his breath she really wants to smack him upside the head. He was exhausting. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Thought it was funny at the time. Kind of think it’s even funnier now since it’s got you all mad.” He leans over her shoulder to look at her notes and when she glances at him unhappily he just looks smug.

“Alright,” she finishes the scribble of a description and clicks the end of her pen, “All done. You can get dressed. I’ll see you bright and early for tattoo makeup. It’s gonna take about an hour to do all this, just so you can mentally prepare for that.”

“It was nice to meet you,” he attempts at a friendly and professional farewell. “See you tomorrow…” he trails off as he watches her turn on her heel and walk out of the trailer door swiftly. The door swung shut and bounced a little bit in her wake.

Harry sighed and adjusted his clothes and hair in the mirror. After a moment he shakes his head, an even louder sigh escaping him.

-

“Good morning!” She greets happily, walking into the trailer without a knock. Well-rested and happy at least that she doesn’t have to just inspect a body, she looks around the trailer.

She realizes no one is there and she’s taken aback. First of all, if Harry wasn’t there then he shouldn’t have left his trailer unlocked. And second, he was fucking late, the fucking twat.

She grumbles, setting her coffee on the countertop. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “In through the nose, out through the mouth” she mutters. She knew this was a big opportunity and having a big star like Harry in her corner could make her career. She needed them to get off on a better foot today.

“Good form, I’d say relax the shoulders a little more,” the door swings open carrying the California twang-British accent that she would soon become all too accustomed to.

Harry points at her shoulders and narrows his eyes regarding her in the trailer. She offers a strained smile through the mirror and Harry sets down his personal things on the couch.  

“Alright, well let’s get started shall we,” she smiles and turns to him, gesturing to the swivel chair next to her.

He nods, a twinkle in his eye as he regards her. He’s unsure of the tone and attitude she’s giving him today. She had been feisty yesterday, cordial at times, but mostly biting and witty. He had liked it. It had made the whole ordeal bearable whereas now she seemed to be laying it on a little thick.

“Just your hands and neck today,” she says, pulling out the makeup materials needed and a checklist of the tattoos she needed to make sure were invisible.

“Should only take..a little under an hour today. Just gonna remind you now though, other days we won’t be so lucky.”

Harry chuckles under his breath and rolls his head around his shoulders before sitting in the chair. “Were you tired yesterday?” He inquires.

“Why do you ask?” She throws a glance over her shoulder at Harry. He’s begun slipping off his sweatshirt and yawns as he does it.

“You seem different from yesterday and I’m just wondering which one is the real you.”

She continues working about the room and rolls her eyes to herself, “I’m always the real me. I come no other way, but this morning I woke up and thought ‘this is the job you’ve fucking wanted for ages, so stop being such a bitch so you don’t get fired, you prick’.” She pauses and turns to face Harry. “The ‘you prick’ was directed at me, that was still part of my thought,” she adds.

He throws his head back and laughs. Then he nods, still laughing lightly, “I get that. Sometimes I’m just so in my head and yesterday I was just so fuckin’ bored. Sorry if I got on your nerves.”

“Don’t mention it.” She waves her hand at him nonchalantly.  

Then she moves to inspect his hands and notices the lack of rings, unlike yesterday when she had to make him take them off.

“You have amazing cuticles,” she notices and mentions without any pretences. Harry mutters his thanks, pursing his lips as he watches her work.

She stops her inspection and places the clipboard on the countertop in front of them.

“Could you take your necklaces off? I need to cover up half of the swallows and the years, for when you unbutton your shirt a bit.”

He wets his lips and nods, hands going to fiddle with the clasps behind his neck. He slips off one of the necklaces with ease, a yellow eye beaded necklace that he lays gently on the countertop next to the clipboard. Then he takes his cross and pulls it over his head, no clasp needed.

“Could I put some music on?” Harry asks after five minutes of Y/N working in silence and Harry only being able to stare either at himself, her work, or nowhere.

“I can,” she stops her work for a moment, “Can’t have you messing up the makeup before it sets. Otherwise I’d have to kill you.” Harry can’t be sure if she’s joking or not. Therefore, he was intent on not messing it up.

“Any requests?” She stands at the counter now, instead of seated on a stool working on Harry's left hand.

He shrugs, like he hasn’t got the faintest idea about good music. She refrains from rolling her eyes once again because she feels herself in a test. She wets her lips, sifting through different things in her Spotify and then lands on her playlist titled “it’s your song” named after Elton John’s song. It had some other musicians, a mix of Queen, Bowie, and more and she was sure she would pass the test.

She presses shuffle and She’s Always A Woman by Billy Joel begins to play over her laptop. Harry nods pleased and she wants to shake her head at him.

She can’t hold back the scoff though after a moment of going back to finishing his hand.

“What?” His British accent thickens with his annoyance growing.

“Nothing,” she chirps, intently putting the final touches on his wrist.

“Seriously. What?”

She stands and sets down the makeup. “Can you unbutton your shirt?” She made a note to herself that from now on she’d have to have him take his shirt off before setting to work because if his hands got messed up she’d have to start over. Thankfully he was already wearing a button up this morning.

He stares at her, offering no movement, just inquisitively waiting for her to respond to his original question.

She shuts her eyes, taking another deep breath and then bites at her lower lip. “It’s just...you’re so easy to read.” She fears adding anything else and moves towards him with the makeup hoping to encourage him to unbutton his shirt.  

His right hand deftly pulls at the buttons as he regards her. His eyes are intent on her, she can see him clearly calculating her. Her green paisley button up tucked up into the back of her bra leaving a splay of her stomach. The semi-balloon sleeves cinched at the wrists leading to her slightly ringed hands. The oversized blue jeans that have no holes, just a tiny patch right next to the left pocket. The frayed ends of the pants laying over her rather pristine white old skool vans.

The Boxer fades in as she waits for him to finish the unbuttoning of the shirt. He’s still staring at her.

“Am I?” He finally inquires, voice pitched higher like he doesn’t believe her.

She gives him a serious stare and leans over him and adjusts the collar of his shirt. She adds paper towels to avoid makeup on his clothes.  

“Yes!” She laughs, “And you don’t even think so, which is like...of course.”

He hums, tilting his head back as she sets to work on covering up the swallows. He wiggles his hands that now both rest on the arm chairs.

“I don’t see it.”

“Of course you don’t,” she glances at his face, their eyes meeting for a moment. “You’re Harry Styles. Everyone is in love with this image you created for yourself and it has just enough of your true self that people feel like they really know you, but you also maintain the illusion. So you think you’re this mysteriously amazing, not like the rest guy, but you are just like the rest of them. Obsessed with yourself and rich so you’re deemed eccentric rather than crazy for all the extravagant shit you do. So when you want me to play music and don’t offer any suggestions I know exactly what music I need to play for you to like me.”

“I feel like that last part says more about you than it does me,” he quirks a brow at her, straining his neck to look at her face as she continues to work.

She flushes, his response both better and worse than she expected. She had gotten a little carried away in her response and she had no idea why. She truly wasn’t one to go off on people so easily and especially not with someone she hardly knew, but something about Harry had her on edge. She was just thankful he hadn’t gotten mad at her response, instead he took it in stride. Further proving her point that he was extremely smart and did things purposefully and she saw right through it all.

She grumbles, “It says that all anyone has to do to get close to you is understand the smallest bit about you and you’ll let them in.”

“That is just so completely wrong, Y/N, I hate to break it to you.” It’s Harry rolling his eyes now, unable to move much more of his body as she continues painting on the concealer to remove his tattoos for the movie.

“Fine. Enlighten me on what I got wrong.”

Their argument had all but drowned out their music. They both did love this music and ironically if they would just shut their mouths, they’d probably like each other a lot more.

“Might as well,” he sighs. “First of all, my image is authentic and of course I don’t want to give myself all away. I enjoy my privacy and for everyone to truly know me I’d have to give that up. Which I’m not keen on. So, I regret to inform you but I am the same guy everyone is “in love with”. Second, I know I am a little self-involved, how else would I get here if I wasn’t constantly taking inventory of myself and reevaluating who I am. As a musician, I want to give as much of myself as possible or else it just feels inauthentic. And the extravagant thing, I can’t help that I like nice things and my job has allowed me to afford those things.”

He stops to take a deep breath and she’s working in stunned silence, in disbelief that Harry is even telling her any of this or that he’s spoken that much and so quickly. Wasn’t he notorious for speaking slowly with barely even a sentence worth of actual information. He sounds tired and frustrated, but also, surprisingly, sincere.

He continues, “The music thing. Maybe it was a test, but still it doesn’t mean I give everyone a mile when they say their favorite musicians match up with mine or something. I note that they either did their homework or might be an interesting person to get to know.”

“So which am I?” She widens her eyes.

“Obviously the second even if you’re also making it painfully clear that you don’t like me.”

“You’re smarter than I thought, Harry. I’ll give you that,” she smirks slyly, finishing up the bird coverage now.

He laughs. “Thanks,” he drawls out.

“And I admit that maybe you aren’t as easy to read as I made out, but I think we’re going to have to agree to disagree about the whole being your authentic self. I just don’t buy it. I can see your mind working constantly, you’re not one to just let yourself be free in public. And I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, I’m just saying, you shouldn’t pretend like that’s not what you’re doing.”

Her final thought leaves Harry silent. She pays no attention to his silence or at least she’s actively ignoring it. Instead she tunes back into the music that had gotten them back onto the wrong foot. This was going to be a long few months.

When she’s satisfied with her work, she has them sit there for thirty minutes to give it all time to set before Harry is off to hair and other makeup. They sit there listening to music. Neither of them have spoken again, except instructions from her and Harry’s hums of approval of songs.  

Harry stands up after thirty minutes as she stays behind to pack up some items. Just as he’s about to step out of the door, he turns and calls her name.

“For the record, I don’t think you’re giving me a fair shot. You said yourself that you’re different every day. That every version of you, is you. So I hope you’ll give me the same allowance, every version of me is me. In this trailer, in my music videos, on tv, in interviews, in my free time. It’s all truly me.”

She bites her inner cheek as he ducks his head and exits the trailer, not allowing her any response.

-

“You’re late!”

“Meeting ran over with Nick and Olivia. Sorry,” Harry says as he begins to undress.

It’s the first day she has to cover all of his tattoos. It was going to take forever by all accounts. It had been two weeks since shooting had begun and she had gotten the simple hands and neck down to 45 minutes so she could only dread what his entire body would take.

“It’s fine,” she grumbles, knowing there wasn’t really anything else she could say about him coming late from a meeting with the director and producer.

Over the last two weeks, they hadn’t grown any fonder of one another. Not at all. They at least had gotten into a system though and she was grateful for that at least.

They showed up, Harry got in his chair, she set up the music, and they got to work. Harry would practice lines on some days and he’d tell her that before she turned on the music so there were no interruptions. Sometimes they talked about stuff on set or music or she’d give Harry his line when he was trying to be off script and forgot one. She wouldn’t classify it as pleasant, but they weren’t at each other throats like they were originally.

Trailer 6 had gotten a little homier as the weeks went by, too. Harry began leaving some of his stuff there and he started putting up silly drawings he would make while on set or polaroids people had taken with him while he was there. He tacked up napkins of restaurants that catered the set and wrote funny jokes and quotes on post it notes. His personal assistants sometimes brought in snacks while Y/N was still working and Harry always offered her some. They were usually healthy, but sometimes she’d eat some. Jeff, his manager, had also stopped by on occasion during his tattoo touch-ups that had become a thing after shooting days had grown longer.

On first meeting, Jeff had said, “Y/N? Harry mentioned you.”

She had turned to Harry with an arched brow and he had shrugged. When she looked back at Jeff she didn’t see Harry give Jeff one of the deadliest looks he could muster. She had grimaced and said “Well we spend enough time together for him to know my name. So thank god for that at least.”

They had all laughed and she had gotten back to work on Harry’s wrist.

Today, she needed Harry in his shorts. It was the first day of shooting where his character would be only in his boxers so she had to cover up all his visible tattoos. Olivia had told the makeup department they actually had to cover up his feet tattoos as well. She wanted him sockless in the scene and Y/N had groaned immediately when she made it to the trailer and Harry wasn’t already there.

“But please, for the sake of my job, strip, dude.” She says, arms crossed over her chest and leaning against the counter as she watched Harry set his things down. Her soft green striped cardigan is open, exposing the white tank top sitting underneath. Her bright green shorts hang loose on her, cinched at the waist and folded over once. Her white high top nike’s tap impatiently on the floor, waiting for Harry to get moving.

He nodded, truly feeling sorry for his tardiness, knowing today was a long day. He was anxious and tired. Acting was a different experience to music and he just was really trying his best.

As he began to take off his shirt, he laughed. His arms pulled the shirt over his head and when it popped out from beneath it, he repeated, “Strip, dude,” attempting to mimic her American accent.

He had practiced his American accent in front of her while running lines, but it had a 50’s drawl to it. His acting coach had been drilling him for weeks before shooting and he still liked to practice. The accent he had just down was far off from that and far off from hers too.

“Do not,” she warned.

“What?” He asks innocently and flutters his eyelashes.

She knows his game by now and she knows she should just ignore him. She knows this after fourteen days. She knows this after hours with him. She knows this, but then she’s opening her mouth and playing into his teases.

“Sorry, what’s a word you would know? Mate?” She tries for a British accent with the last word, knowing she can’t win this.

Harry snickers and scratches at his nose with his index finger before starting on taking off his pants. “You’re so Californian.”

“Thank you,” she chirps, moving to sit beside him now that he had settled.

“I like your shorts,” he muses, crossing his legs, likely a little cold.

She glances down at her cotton shorts that showed more of her thighs when she sat for a moment before returning her gaze to his left arm. The longest task of the day was this damn arm.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, “Wanted to be comfortable today. Knew it was gonna be long.”

A smile bubbles onto his face, his pink lips parting to reveal his shiny white teeth behind them. “So true.”

The music is low today. She had chosen Joni Mitchel’s Blue album for the first pick of the day. She had quickly learned Harry preferred listening to albums in order. It tended to make him less jumpy when the same artist came on multiple times like an album. So when she tried to play just an album one day, she found him more cooperative and less irritable.

After thirty minutes of work, she can’t stop noticing how shivery Harry is. It was late October in LA, so it was still warm, but admittedly the mornings could be a little chilly. His shivering was concerning for many reasons. Mainly he was messing up her work and concentration, but she also didn’t want him to get sick or something.

“Do you want me to see if they have a blanket and slippers or something? You look like you’re turning blue.”

Harry turns his attention to her. He had been reading over the script for today again. “That’d be great. I can call…” He trails off trying to think of the name of one of his assistants, but apparently he’s too scatterbrained for it. She assumed it was the hypothermia traveling to his brain already.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll walkie someone.” She says as she grabs the walkie talkie, flicking to the personal assistants channel.

“Hey,” she chirps happily. Harry noted how she talked to other people. So sweet, yet sincere. With him, it was serious and sincere but more biting, callous at times. Less so lately, but she definitely was sharper with him. He didn’t know if it even bothered him anymore. She was engaging if nothing else.

“Is someone free to bring two blankets and men’s slippers over to Trailer 6? I’ve got a naked Jack and I don’t want him freezing before I’m done covering up his tattoos.” She takes her finger off the talking button and glances sideways at him, “Who knows, maybe that would improve his acting. Y’know on second-thought-”

“Alright, alright,” Harry tries to grab for the walkie talkie, but she turns from him holding a finger up signalling him to wait as she listens for a response.

Someone says a simple “On it” and she turns off the walkie talkie and gets back to work.

“I took my finger off the speaker before I said the thing about your acting. Relax, Harry.” She says when he’s still glaring at her. “Just love to see you squirm.”

He shakes out his short chestnut hair, some of it falling over his forehead. Instinctively, she reaches up without even looking and smooths it back. Like she was tucking her own hair out of her eyes, but instead it was Harry’s. She decided to say nothing and was relieved when Harry didn’t say anything either.

She finishes his forearm and moves to his outer upper arm. The rose holds her attention when the PA knocks on the door and she has to race to get it. Nothing could stop her from moving on this work. It was already an hour in and she wanted to scream.

She swings open the door and she wants to die. It was Autumn. Her least favorite PA, of course. She was insufferable and obsessed with Harry. Which was not why Y/N found Autumn insufferable. There were so many more reasons. So many. But that particular character flaw didn’t help her case either. Y/N tried to just take the blankets and slippers from Autumn, but the woman insisted that she come in.

“I’ve got it,” Y/N says.

“No, don’t want you to get makeup on anything,” Autumn’s saccharine voice grinds at her ears and she contemplates cutting them off.

Harry sat in his chair, legs crossed, nodding along to the music, his script discarded on the counter in front of him.

“Hi Harry!” Autumn practically yells, walking right up to him.

Y/N takes a deep breath at the door, letting it swing shut. She bites her lower lip as an attempt to bite her tongue as she walks back to her set-up. The set-up Autumn was conveniently blocking.

“Hello, Autumn,” Harry says kindly, making eye contact with her. “How’re you today?”

“So great! So great! Thanks for asking. How are you?” She points a finger at him like she might poke him and Harry squirms away from her a bit. She, of course, doesn’t notice this.

“Well, thanks.” His eyes flicker to Y/N, who is standing behind Autumn, hands on her hips and attempting not to tap her foot. His tone is clearly dismissive, but Autumn must ignore it. Y/N knows Autumn isn’t as helpless as she tries to come off.

Autumn asks, “Where do you want these?”, gesturing to the two blankets and slippers stacked on top.

“Just on the counter is fine, thanks,” Harry says.

Autumn does as he says and then stands there with baited breath. Y/N’s not sure what she’s expecting. For Harry to ask for her hand in marriage or something? But he just glances between the two women. His own foot begins wiggling in impatience.

“Busy day,” He attempts at dismissing her once again - with kindness.

“Oh my gosh, totally!” Autumn gushes, starting to go off on all of the tasks she has to do. She stands so close to Harry, Y/N genuinely thinks she’s going to sit in his lap. Y/N stares up to the ceiling, begging god or whoever to end her misery right there and then.

Harry sees Y/N’s expression and tries to maintain the neutral expression he’s had for the entirely too long interaction. A smile threatens at his rosey lips that had chapped from the morning air.

“Right, well,” he cuts off Autumn, “Y/N needs to get back to tattoo coverage, I think. So...have a nice day.”

Autumn’s eyes widen like she forgot that there was anyone else in the room and steps back from Harry. Y/N nods, a grimace clear on her face. Autumn gives her the same small she used to get from the popular girls in high school when she happened to be talking to their cool guy friend that they wanted to be more than friends with. Sickeningly sweet and completely fake. She could see the contempt in Autumn’s eyes that swirled just beneath the surface of her perfectly outlined green-ish eyes.

“Okay! You too, Harry!” She begins walking to the door and Y/N takes her seat again, closing her eyes and counting to ten. “And Y/N,” Autumn adds as an afterthought.

“Oh my fucking god,” Y/N sighs, her hands going to rub over her face and through her hair. “That was exhausting. Jesus Christ.”

“What? She’s nice. Maybe a little clueless,” Harry counters. “But she was so nice,” he confirms again, seemingly trying to convince himself of it as well.  

She grabs the slippers and slips them on the ground so Harry can put them on easily. Then one of the blankets that she drapes over Harry’s bottom half. He smiles at the gesture, a ‘thank you’ said in a whisper.

“Please, she knows what she’s doing,” Y/N scoffs, “And she’s obsessed with you!” She grabs the concealer to get back to work, “She was all over you and never took her eyes off of your body. It was like she wanted to touch you or something. It was icky.”

“You touch me,” Harry adds cheekily, adjusting beneath the warm blanket.

She laughs, a smile gracing her lips as she gives Harry a look. He was clever.

“It’s my job to touch you, Harry.”

Harry had really tried to not laugh, but it was just so funny. They both snicker, their eyes meeting for a moment longer than usual.

“Speaking of my job,” she adds after controlling her laughter, “Does she not realize just how long it takes to cover all of your bloody tattoos with this shit to make it look like you’re a pristine skinned 50’s psycho killer?”

She finishes the rose coverup and moves to the ship. Harry nods solemnly.

“It’s true...And it doesn’t help that you’re terrible at it, so it takes a thousand years longer than it should.” He adds, laughter overtaking his serious tone at the end.

“Oh my god!” She shrieks in delight, trying not to mess up her work, “That is so rude! I messed up one time - mostly because of you, by the way. And give me a break, this is so not what I thought I’d be doing as a makeup artist for movies.”

He nods again, muttering “Fair, fair.”

They grow silent, enjoying Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, the album that she had queued after Joni’s.

“The body thing, I just learned to ignore it, I think.” Harry mutters, eventually, but it’s thoughtless, like he’s not revealing anything about himself with the statement. But it kind of shocks her. Her eyes widen and she stops her work to stare at his face.

“Harry,” she waits till his eyes meet hers, “That’s, like, not normal. Are you serious?”

“I mean, I’m very comfortable with my body, like I haven’t minded the last 45 minutes of sitting practically nude in front of you. And I have plenty of revealing photos out in the world. I just don’t notice staring anymore, it’s not, I don’t think it’s what you’re thinking,” he tries to reassure her. His eyes are intent on hers, full of seriousness that hadn’t been there a few moments ago.

“It’s one thing to be comfortable in your skin and another to be desensitized to objectification,” she insists.

He nods. “I know. Thank you. I would let you know if what she had done had bothered me, so don’t worry. I felt completely safe the whole time.”

“Good,” she nods back and concentrates again. “Good,” she repeats once more under her breath. There had been way too many distractions already today and she wasn’t even done with his arm yet.

As she continues to work up his arm, Harry sings along to some of the songs on Elton’s album. He happily taps his feet to the different beats, now safely tucked in soft fluffy slippers. She would never admit just how amazing it is to be in the same room as Harry’s singing. It was truly special to be less than a foot from him and hear him sing just under the unique voice of Elton - who was someone he actually knew, which was equally as cool.

He hit every note and knew every word. She was impressed. How could she not be when a literal rockstar sat before her? This was the first time she was truly starstruck by her charge, Mr. Harry Styles.

By two hours, they had moved onto an album by Dolly Parton and they were both singing. They strangely had no fights today, maybe some snarky comments from both of them, but no outright mean-spirited words were exchanged.

She stood in front of Harry, finishing up the swallows. She had finished both arms and the birds, all she had left was moving down his body. Up next, the butterfly.

“I love this tattoo,” she mumbles, twisting Harry’s standing body to face her and taking her seat again. This left her eye to eye with the butterfly on his stomach.

He makes a surprised face and raises his recently plucked eyebrow at his counterpart. “Oh really?”

“Don’t act so surprised. I told you day one that not all of them are rubbish and honestly they’re all pretty cool. I just was so annoyed that I had gotten tattoo coverage as my job and then I had to go and index them all.” She flicks her eyes up to his sculpted face and sees he’s watching her work. “Plus, I have some butterflies of my own, remember?” She grins.

“Yeah,” he ponders her words, “I don’t think that’d put me in a good mood either.”

He pauses again and she continues to work silently.

“So what’s your excuse for the second day then?”

“You provoked me,” she doesn’t spare him a glance, shrugging like it was the simplest answer in the world.

“Pardon?”

“Let’s not go down this road again, Harry.” She sighs, smoothing over the freshly covered butterfly tattoo. His sternum looked so naked, it was unnerving. Now the ferns.

Harry involuntarily shivered when her fingers traced over the ferns lightly, taking note of the expanse of skin she’d have to cover.

“You’re right,” he agrees, “But agree to disagree on the provocation.”

“Sure,” she says curtly, focusing on his skin and her job.

The expanse of skin that the ferns inhabited was slightly fleshy and especially soft. It bordered where his boxers began and she ignored that part of his body completely. It was of no importance to her and she really had no issue blocking it from her vision, even when it was right in front of her. She finishes one fern with Harry jumping only twice from her cold hands. He couldn’t put his robe on until the makeup had all set for half an hour so he’d have to be cold for possibly another hour still.

She traces the fern that is still visible and Harry shivers. She instinctively shushes him softly and his body quiets. As she works, her hair splays around her shoulders and Harry looks down at her working and doesn’t realize what his hand is doing until it’s too late. His right hand runs over her hair, smoothing it out of her face. It was rarely ever down, so it must have been the novelty of it.

“Sorry, I-” he chokes out when he jerks his hand back.

She sits back, slightly taken aback. Her body flushes just from their positioning and what a hair caress would mean normally in this position, but she’s a professional and she shakes it off.

“It’s fine. We’re even.” She assures him, breaking eye contact with his own wide eyes. “Seems like we’re both hair touchers.”

“It’s just so soothing,” Harry muses. “I think it’s human instinct to touch other people’s hair since it’s so enjoyable for yourself.”

“Possibly,” her voice raises, his thought was definitely plausible. Or maybe they were just two touch starved people who were very much in each other’s personal space 24/7.

At the two and a half hour marker, she gets a walkie message from Olivia’s assistant asking when they’d be done. She had just finished the tiger tattoo, which had been surprisingly easy. It took a while, but Harry didn’t shiver once and neither of them pet each other’s hair.

“Probably 40 minutes, sorry. He has a lot of tattoos and the makeup needs to set.” She says seriously and gets back to work, barely regarding the response of “Yeah it’s fine, just wanted an estimate”.

“Jesus,” Harry moans as she covers up his knee tattoos.

She groans in veiled disgust, “Did I just hit a secret erogenous zone? Is that why you have ‘oui’ there, you creep?” There’s a teasing tone behind the nickname she uses.

Harry laughs and runs his hand over his face, pulling at his jaw and lower lip. His jaw is so sharp, she watches him adjust it. “No, no. I’m just so goddamn tired of this.”

“And it’s not your fault,” he adds, feeling bad immediately after he said it. “It’s actually been nice today, but I’m feeling antsy, like I need to move. I don’t like to sit still.”

“I know,” she says under her breath. She simply nods in agreement.

Finally, the tattoos are all covered up and set. They had talked about George Michael when she got to his ankle tattoos that she hadn’t seen before and they laugh about the tattoos and chat a bit more. She helps him slip on his robe that he keeps in his closet in the trailer and then follows him out of it. They had decided they were hungry and he had been pushed back an hour since he had taken so long, so he had a free half-hour.

As they walked to craft services, they talked about actual things besides work. She was pleasantly surprised by what Harry talked about. It was more than music or the movie. It was the tv show he was currently obsessed with and how he hated LA’s traffic the most out of all of his dislikes for the city. She couldn’t help but grin at his Los Angeles slander. She loved this side of him.

-

Breakfast together after finishing his tattoo coverage became their regular thing. He would come into the trailer, racing from his morning meeting accompanied with tea for two, they’d get his tattoos covered as quickly as possible, and then they’d eat together.

They’d save their “in-depth” chats for breakfast. In early November, he joked about No Nut November and insisted he really wouldn’t have a problem with it - which had made her laugh. They worried together over the U.S. presidential election and meditated together in his trailer to Fleetwood Mac.

Around late November, Harry had requested that Y/N just do his face makeup as well, just to simplify his life a little more and the department had agreed easily. She had to spend extra time on set getting lectured on how to properly do Harry’s makeup, but after two days she stopped getting notes about it. She was so extremely proud and thankful to Harry for doing that.

All he said was: “I mean, you’re extremely talented so I’m not scared of you fucking up my face. Plus, it does make my life easier. Two birds with one stone.”

In late November, he told her about his favorite holiday drinks at Starbucks and what he was getting his mother for Christmas.

When the Vogue cover came out, he laughed over that woman who responded to his cover saying the world needed to bring back manly men. He joked that he was going to really push that from now on, that he was a manly man, and he would sputter with laughter every time he tried to say it with a straight face.

He hand delivered her a special ‘Treat People With Kindness’ sweatshirt that he only had for the cast and crew of the film. Most everyone got them from a PA, but Harry decided since you saw him first in the morning, why not.

He told her about him winning Hitmaker of the Year from Variety when he had left the award sitting in Trailer 6 and about how weird it was to film acceptance speeches in an empty room. His smile had lit up the entire set that day and the day he did his interview on set. He was so smiley she had to bump him with her elbow because he wouldn’t stop smiling at her and it was unnerving.

“Stop that,” She muttered.

“Stop what?” He smiles wider.

“That!” She squeaked, her head shaking as she ducked it to regard his anchor tattoo. “You’re smiling too much.”

“Oh no,” he says sarcastically, “God forbid I be happy.”

“It’s not that,” she bumps his thigh with her elbow, trying to keep her own smile off her face, “Your face is just so intense when you smile. Feels like you’re gonna burn a hole through me.”

He laughs, completely unconvinced, “You just don’t want me to be happy is what I’m hearing.”

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever, dude.”

She saw he was serious about the ‘manly men’ references when the Variety photos came out and everyone and their mom posted the pictures with some variation of that comment as their caption.

She still found that she rolled her eyes at some of the things Harry did, but she genuinely counted him as a friend by the time December had rolled around.

Over three hours, almost always completely alone, doing work for a job you both care deeply about can really make or break a relationship. And that first full-body coverage day had made them stronger together. After that, Harry and her would banter with one another, but there was never anything intentionally cruel. Just friends giving each other shit sometimes. Harry had been right, he had changed her mind about him. And she had realized that that was who Harry was. He was a deliverer. If you didn’t like him at first, he would try and try again until you did, but he did it in a way that wasn’t weasley or anything. It was terribly genuine and she saw it in every relationship he had on set.

On several occasions she had witnessed his friendship with Nick Kroll. A man she had regarded with dislike before the film. She had quickly realized that dislike was misplaced, but she maintained that it was just because she hated adult cartoons - citing that she literally refused to be friends with any person who willingly watched the Simpsons, Family Guy, and/or American Dad and all of those similar shows.

Nick was far nicer and less weird than she had realized. So she quickly shot her friend from high school an apology text for all the Nick Kroll slander she had spouted back in the day. Her friend had rejoiced but also said how jealous she was that Y/N got to see him regularly on set.

Nick and Harry got along great. Harry generally got along better with older people, she noticed when she was introduced to his friends on the somewhat frequent occasion. Trailer 6 was where Y/N saw most of these reactions take place. She would be introduced in the first minute and then she would smile politely and get back to the work of covering up Harry’s numerous tattoos.

Harry would say something simple and Nick, the literal famous comedian, would laugh. In the beginning she’d raise a brow, confused because it truly wasn’t that funny, but as Harry’s friend now, she kept her mouth shut.

Nick would come and sit on the couch while she’d work and eventually all three of them would chat. Sometimes she would get up to go to the bathroom during those morning chats and she would look in the mirror and think to herself “How are you casually talking to these two men right now” and then she’d think ��Because you are a boss ass bitch, you got this” and go back out there with a smile on her face.

“Y/N, what are you doing tonight?” Nick asked on the first Friday morning of December.

She looks up from Harry’s cross tattoo that was half covered. Harry was reading, a book casually propped in his right hand and glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. He glanced at the other two in the room. Nick had been getting some work done before he had spoken.

“No plans,” she states simply before getting back to work. It wasn’t full body today, but it was arms and torso, so kind of a lot still.

“You should come over for dinner at my place with Harry,” Nick smiles kindly. His scruff was really coming in today. “To celebrate us almost wrapping the first half of the movie.”

Harry had thankfully freshly shaved before he sat down. It was her least favorite part of her new job. Whenever he came in for touch ups and she had to shave his afternoon shadow. She was terrified she’d cut him and never live it down from her department or Harry. She had no idea which would be worse.

“My wife will be there too, of course,” he adds, hoping to entice her to say yes.

Harry glances between Y/N and Nick again before focusing on his book again.

She purses her lips, finishing Harry’s hand and moving onto the anchor tattoo. “Yeah, I mean, I don’t know why I’d say no. As long as I’m not intruding on the throuple,” she grins up at Harry.

He stares at her with his big green eyes, slightly obscured behind his prescription glasses. He raises his brows and wiggles them a little bit, teasingly.

Nick laughs and slyly winks at Harry through the mirror. Y/N none the wiser as she removes all traces of Harry’s tattoos.

“Great!” He claps his hands and stands up. “We’ll talk or I’ll make sure Harry gets you the info or something. I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out. My wife’s been wanting to meet you,” he smiles again and walks out of the trailer.

She tilts her head at the last part. He talked about her to his wife. Did he really count her as that close of a friend? She was just a makeup artist and he was a producer… She glances at Harry and he gives away nothing. His jaw looks extra prominent and she knows it’s because he’s clenching it. He did that when he was focused or angry, remembering it bulging on the first day they met and how clenched it had been then.

“Unclench your jaw,” she mutters, “It’s not good for you.”

Harry hums and unclenches it.

He stretches his neck by rolling his head around his shoulders and she glances at the movement. His skin is still beautifully sun-kissed and his pores look so soft, only his moles change the texture of his skin. She loves his moles though, they make him especially unique in her eyes. Not that he needed anything else to set him apart from the crowd. Still, she loved them. His collarbone is prominent as he sits there shirtless and she wishes she could reach out and brush at it. But she gets back to work, knowing the only time she’s gonna be brushing near that part of him is when she’s covering dates in those dips behind his collarbones.

“Y’know, I could just drive you to Nick’s tonight,” Harry says, putting his book down and taking off his glasses. He rubs at his eye with his free hand.

“You’re blind and British, how do I know you can even drive yourself?” She asks sillily, pointing to his glasses.

He shakes his head, “I’m serious, Y/N. Aren’t you staying in the same area as me?”

He asks because they had relocated to Palm Springs a little while ago and everyone had gotten rentals and it was hard to remember where everyone was holed up when they weren’t on set.

“Yeah, think so. But you don’t need to pick me up. I have a car.”

“Nonsense. I’ve been to his place before, don’t want you to have to deal with directions, that’s just silly.”

“I guess...” she resigns relatively easily. She had never hung out with Harry off the set or Nick for that matter. It felt surreal, but she knew the right answer was usually just say yes in these situations. So that’s what she says. “Yes, that’d be great, thank you,” she confirms and watches as Harry’s eyes glimmer softly before turning back to his book. A triumphant soft smirk rests on his face.

The words die out between the two of them as she works on. He hums along to the music and continues reading his book. When she’s done with his tattoo coverage and his face makeup, she sends him off to hair and the rest of his day. He gives a flirty wink as he walks out the door and she rolls her eyes in response. She tidies up her kit and then goes to do some other makeup work.

When she wasn’t working with Harry, she was assigned to some of the minor characters and doing their makeup. They were always her second concern, especially now that she did Harry’s makeup as well as his tattoos. As she works on them, she can feel her mind drifting to Harry. Harry and how they were friends now. She was pretty sure, right? They were friends. He had never really said a mean thing to her if she really thought about it. It was her… She had been rude and mean-spirited and he had just taken it. He rarely had even thrown it back at her. He was so good to her and patient and she realized that he had proven to her that he was good. He was better than good, he was kind and loving. Considerate. Wonderful. All of those positive superlatives, Harry filled them. And she had the audacity to be mean to him.

She paused the brush that was adding blush to an actresses cheek.

Lisa, the actress, looks at Y/N confusedly, “What’s wrong?”

Y/N twitches her head, refocusing on her task at hand. The realization of her pausing her work becomes clear as she looks between her hand and the cheek that has not enough blush on it. “Oh,” she breathes. “...I just realized that I was terrible to someone who doesn’t have a mean bone in their body.”

Lisa nods, “Apologize.”

“Yeah, I mean...We’ve kind of moved past the phase where we don’t get along. Like now we’re friends, but the realization just really hit me.” She sighs, picking up where she left off on Lisa’s makeup. “I’ll make sure to apologize next time I see them.”

Lisa smiles.

-

At the end of the day, Y/N realizes she left her tattoo coverage kit in Harry’s room after their touch-up session halfway through the day. She had run off to help with a makeup emergency for a tiny cut on a minor character’s face and forgotten to go back and grab her things. Another roll of her eyes and a huff of breath and then she’s walking back to Trailer 6, a place that seemed like a home away from home now. She knocks, patiently waiting at the bottom of the steps.

Harry swings open the door and props it with his hip. He’s got a toothbrush held in his mouth, slowly scrubbing back and forth with his left hand. His costume is somewhat taken off, he’s still got the pants on with suspenders hanging down, his chest was completely bare and he looked funny with some of his tattoos only being half covered based on what parts of his skin had been showing today. Her work. His skin looked half silky smooth and half tattooed like usual.

His naked skin seemingly left her breathless because as her eyes returned to Harry’s face, she breathed a soft, “Hi.”

“Hey,” a smirk twists onto his face. “Forget something?”

“Yes,” she nods, coming back to her senses and entering the trailer at Harry’s gesture.

She begins to pack up the kit that had been left haphazardly strewn around on his counter. “I’m sorry I left a mess like this, I got called over to something else and forgot.”

“Don’t worry darling,” Harry grins at his joke.

She looks up from her work and sees Harry in the reflection of the mirror. He’s wiping off the makeup from his chest and his beautiful tattoos reemerge as entire images.

She laughs humorlessly, “It gets less funny each time you use that.”

“That’s not true,” he looks at her through the mirror now, his green eyes trained on her face, “Everyone else still thinks it’s hilarious.”

“They’re humoring you and your fragile ego,” she winks and watches as Harry’s smirk twitches from his perfect face.

“You’ve got a very mean disposition, you know that?” He asks.

He finishes his chest and moves to remove the makeup from his left arm, glancing at the mirror every so often to check himself and to flicker his eyes over Y/N’s face.

She genuinely laughs at that, but scolds herself internally for being mean when she had planned to apologize the next time she saw Harry. This was the next time so why was she doing this instead?

“Rewrite sweet disposition for me?” Her voice honeyed. Clearly stubborn and terrible at saying sorry...maybe her and Harry were a better match than she realized.

Harry twists his lips as he slips on his t-shirt he was wearing today.

“Pick you up at 6:30?” He says as his head pops out from beneath the rainbow striped sweatshirt he slipped on top of the shirt. His chestnut hair had been toweled out and was flopping over his forehead slightly.

She sighs and zips close the kit, standing from the seat she had taken at his counter and turning to face him now.

“6:30 is perfect. Thanks again for doing this. I just can’t believe Nick Kroll is inviting me over for dinner!” She smiles, shifting to lean against the counter as she waits for Harry to finish up. She didn’t have to but for some reason she felt like she was in no rush.

“Are you serious?” He’s moved on to changing his pants now and he’s slipping on black sweatpants.

“Yeah…” She blinks and her eyes widen as Harry appraises her expression.

He straightens up after fixing a cuff on the pants and he can’t tell if she’s being genuine or sarcastic. It was always so hard to tell with her.

“I mean, Nick Kroll is like a huge celebrity and I know in the entertainment business you’re not supposed to get starstruck but when I was in college my sister thought he was weirdly hot and my friends and I would shit talk him. I don’t know, it’s just kind of surreal to be having dinner at his place. Like I’ve watched him on tv and now I’ll be eating with him...so weird.”

He shakes his head, beginning on his dirty vans now. A small laugh escapes his mouth and he glances between her and his shoe, scratching his head quickly. “I still can’t tell… It feels like you’re fucking with me right now.”

“I’m not!” She insists, her hands coming out in front of her in a confused fashion. “I used to watch that guy’s tv show then he’s my boss now he’s inviting me over for food? It’s a lot to process.”

“How come it’s not surreal to be having dinner with me then?” He asks semi-joking, a hint of offense tinged within it. It’s visible only in his knitted brow and twisted lip.

“Careful there, sailor. Venturing into some dangerously self-absorbed waters.” Her eyes light up, a quick raise of her brows accompany the shine, and she decides now is her time to head out. Especially as she thinks about getting ready for this soiree tonight. She needed to shower and pick out an outfit with less than two hours to prepare.

Harry sputters at her response and fumbles with his pink shoelace. “That’s not...that is - You’re being unfair. My question is valid.”

She shrugs her shoulders and skirts Harry’s attempt at grabbing at her arm to stop her from leaving. “Okay, Mr. Big Man On Campus. I promise you you’re the most popular boy in school.”

She blows him a kiss and walks out the door as he attempts to get her to come back by calling her name a few times and slightly shouting “C’mon! I wasn’t being insecure. That was a reasonable ask…”

He sighs and shakes his head again. Every interaction would end with one of them either rolling their eyes or shaking their head and usually a sigh on both of their lips. It was exhausting, but exhilarating too.

20 minutes later, Harry receives a text from Y/N: “You’re still picking me up right :))) ?”

He’s in his car, getting ready to finally leave after getting held up with last minute schedule changes that he had to be informed about by some PA that he had forgotten the name of. His lip quirks to the right and he closes his eyes for a second enjoying seeing her name on his phone screen for a moment.

He types back: “Of courseeee”.

“Fab.” She sends back, immediately followed by: “Fanks BMOC ;)”

A full smile rolls onto Harry’s face after he swipes his tongue over his lower lip. “Yeah, yeah, save it for the next guy” he types out quickly before throwing his phone gently beside him and driving back to his apartment. She made him feel young, not that he wasn’t young, but generally his friends didn’t text like she did.

-

At 6:28, she receives a text from Harry Styles - his name in her phone. A name she had never expected to see in her phone unless her Spotify was on shuffle. Yet, instead, his name popped up under messages and it read “Here!” followed by a quick “I think” and then a phone call coming through from the apparently anxious man himself.

“Hello Harry.” Her tone even. She throws little items into her purse, making sure everything she needs is there.

“Could you peek out your window? I’m not quite sure I’m at the right place and people are staring…” nerves laced in his rushed tone.

She ambles to the window and opens up the shade she had closed to change. Below her, she sees a sleek black Range Rover with a slightly disarrayed hairdo and big dark glasses peeking below the windshield. She ignored the instinct to retch at the sight of the Range Rover and peered at the lamp lit sight below her. It was definitely Harry, but she searched for the prying eyes he was worried about and saw none. Well, maybe a few, but it wasn’t a lot.

“I see you, I’ll be right out, dude. Just deep breaths, it’s mostly crew staying here right now so they’re just seeing that it’s you, another guy they work with. They won’t come up for pictures...I would hope.”

She hangs up with no farewell, snatches her purse from its place on the bed and races out the door. Harry smiles anxiously at her when she stands next to the passenger’s door and he unlocks it. She bites her lip and raises her brows, waiting to hear if anything terrible happened in the minute and a half it took her to come downstairs and out to the car.

“Hi,” he exhales.

A smirk crawls onto her features and her eyes sparkle with a bit of a childish glee that normally she didn’t exhibit as she glances at him. “Hi.” She says quietly. “Alright big boy?”

“‘M fine.” He huffs but balks at her smile that she maintains while she stares at him. “What?”

“Just happy to see you, I guess,” her smile returns after speaking and Harry glances between her face and the windshield in front of him.

He can’t tell if she’s being serious or not once again. But he fears that conversation of her either ridiculing him for thinking she is serious or being offended that he still can’t tell. Instead, he will keep his mouth shut. For the most part.

“Happy to see you, too,” his lips create a closed mouth smile quickly before turning out of the parking lot.

She watches him. Their first time together outside of work. And they were friends. She needed to get used to simply thinking that. He picked her up to take her to dinner with her other friend and his wife. This was normal life, just with big names behind those terms of relation. Jesus, she always said it didn’t bother her to be around celebrities so why did she think about it so damn much?

She twitches her head and refocuses on Harry and his driving. His jaw is clenched again and she wants to reach out and sooth it herself. Instead she starts to open her mouth to correct him, but stops herself from that as well. They weren’t at work and it didn’t feel like something just a friend would say right now. She refocuses on the view of his eyes that are barely visible while he regards the road. His large eyes that she had grown acquainted to are surveying what he’s doing, every so often drifting to the right side of the road to check out the lane beside him. But then, always back to right in front of him, leaving a crescent of green visible to her.

“Can feel you staring at me…” His voice sounds like it’s rolled around in gravel after the long work day. It makes her wonder if he’s supposed to have a vocal rest when he’s not at work, but then again it’s the weekend now so maybe it was fine. Maybe she should ask him. Or maybe she should stop worrying so much about him.

“Have I got something on my face?” His low register bumps her from her racing thoughts. He doesn’t take his eyes off the road, but she can see he’s widened his eyes in wonder.

“No! Of course not, I just was...making sure you weren’t going to crash us or something.” She grasps at straws, desperate to not be caught by Harry.

A low chuckle bubbles from his chest and he spares a small glance over at her bundled up in his passenger seat. She matches his gaze with something of distrust hidden behind her eyes. She hopes to convey that she’s being silly and when Harry turns back to look at the road unassumingly, she feels like she has won. The harmonies of the beginning of a Queen song take over the silence, Harry’s spindly fingers thrumming against the wheel.

They arrive at the Kroll’s Palm Springs residence at 6:50. 10 minutes early and the two twiddle their thumbs for a few minutes, trying to pass the time and not intrude earlier than they were supposed to. She appreciated that Harry liked to be timely but not early, similar to how she was.

“So what is the fascination with Range Rovers?” She queries, leaning against the door’s armrest. The back of her head touches against the semi-tinted window.

Harry shifts in his seat, seat belt no longer constricting him and no road requiring his attention as they sit in the driveway. He rushes a hand through his hair and lets a single strand of hair fall over his prominent forehead.

“Dunno,” he shrugs his shoulders and allows a hand to fall onto the steering wheel absentmindedly. “I don’t really prefer them anymore, but when I’m in LA and doing work, it makes things easier. My other cars are a little flashier...have more privacy in this.”

“Yet the effect is similar,” she muses.

Her head tilts to take in Harry’s appearance, sharp black silky button-up and dark green plaid slacks, and she rubs a hand over her jaw. His eyes flicker to the movement and attempt to really take it in, even in the dim glow of the lamp light outside barely peeking into the dark interior of the car.

“Effect?”

“Y’know…” She arches her brow at him. He feigns innocence or possibly the expression is genuine. She’s begun to realize Harry was as genuine as they came, but she just didn’t think he was that unaware. An assumption that was likely correct, but even Harry liked to pretend he was a completely unassuming individual.

“Forget it,” she finishes when he gives no indication that he knows what she is hinting at. She doesn’t want to get into it with him again. Especially when he plays at this game where he has no idea what she’s talking about. It made her feel like she was crazy for thinking he made these calculated decisions to get his desired outcomes.

They move on, neither of them quite sure what the other was getting at in that conversation. The two of them walk into the house a minute before their expected arrival time side by side and are greeted happily with Nick and his wife. They’re ushered in and Y/N is happily received by the happy couple.  

“So, Y/N, how’s it been for you working with these two? I know they can be more than a handful - especially together,” Nick’s wife, Lily, asks after a sip of wine.

The group of four had been eating for a while with Nick and Harry bantering for quite a bit at the beginning about whether or not Harry would be willing to hand feed Nick. The answer was settled at “another time”.  

Harry seems to have a very specific habit of watching whoever is speaking - no matter what. So after Lily has finished speaking, his gaze flickers to Y/N, the person his brain expects to speak next. He watches her attentively as she wipes her mouth on her napkin before speaking.

Her hair was styled differently tonight than it usually was on set, she had it down rather than up in a ponytail or braids. He hadn’t had time to really look at her when they had been in the car, his mind occupied with stress and exhaustion that he refocused into driving and deep breathing. Now, in the comfort of a trusted friend’s home, he was far more relaxed and able to truly take in her appearance, which he couldn’t help but think was beautiful. He’d have to tell her that at some point. That he thought she was beautiful. Not that he didn’t see her on set and think she was beautiful...he just hadn’t really thought about it before. She was his wily makeup artist who was critical of him most times, but occasionally sweet, who had an amazing taste in music and good aesthetic style. The beauty part of it all, he guessed wasn’t something integral to their relationship before.

But now he was sitting beside her at the Kroll’s nice dining table and she had her hair splayed in front and behind her shoulders with one side tucked behind her ear and her outfit fit her impeccably. The top she had on had capped sleeves that cinched with buttons at her delicate wrists and a severe drop to create a small sweetheart neckline just above the curve of her breasts. It was silky and shiny, a blush pink that complemented the high waisted dark grey slacks that flared over shiny black boots that he wasn’t sure where they ended beneath the pants.

“Well,” she starts, chuckling under her breath when she meets Harry’s stare, “Harry and I spend a lot of time together, covering up all his tattoos, and he yaps a lot. So, it’s actually pretty refreshing when Nick comes in, because Harry’s then talking half the normal amount.”

He huffs a scoff, while Lily and Nick laugh happily. Nick interjects an “ouch” for the bite she just took out of Harry, but she thought it was fine, he can take it.

Harry thought to himself that if she can serve it, then she can definitely take it. His eyes remain on her as he opens his mouth to speak, but then look at Lily when words actually come out. “Well, Y/N, she thinks she can read people really well, but it’s actually quite the opposite. She had me completely wrong when we first met, so I talk now in hopes that she’ll really understand me.”

His head tilts to her when he mentions her name, but otherwise doesn’t glance her way away again. He scrunches his nose at the end of his comment, implying he converses with her out of pity.

It’s her turn to scoff and stare at him unamused. Nick and Lily share a look, unsure of what was going on, they had concocted this dinner date idea in hopes to set the two up but the way this conversation was going, they seemed to be pushing each other further and further away from one another.

“That’s simply not true,” she says curtly and takes a sip of her quickly emptying wine glass.

“Which part?”

“Almost all of it, I’d say,” her eyes glaring back at him, fiery with a disdain he hadn’t seen in awhile. “You’re proving my original perception of you with every passing second,” she adds.

“Care to elaborate exactly what the original perception of me was for the class,” his eyes are wide and wild, any extra adoration he had started to feel towards her slipping away just as quickly as it had come, like a wave along the beach.

“You know, so why don’t you?”

“I want to hear you say it,” he grits out the command.

She shifts in her seat, glancing at Nick and Lily who are watching on and she has a feeling she won’t be getting an invitation again anytime soon. Lily gives her a semi-reassuring smile like she was sorry to have asked the question at all, but Y/N knows this is kind of her fault, not that she would ever admit that. Her comment could have been taken innocuously, but Harry’s pride wouldn’t let it slide. Like she said, she should have known better, the weeks of friendship were flying out the window and she was helping them along.

“And what if I don’t?”

“Have fun calling an uber at this time of night,” he shrugs, malice dripping in his tone.

She truly was taken aback at this. A slight sound of shock leaving her mouth. Harry was many things, impatient and anxious usually, but downright cruel with her, she had yet to see it. Arrogant and pompous, definitely, but this wickedness that was starting to creep from the shadows worried her. But the little fiery demon within her wasn’t going anywhere either - yet she might back down to save herself some money and hassle.

“Fine,” she raises her brows in a challenge to him and restates her original take on him - possibly adding a bit extra malice in her phrasing, “You are a shell of a man, held up by the people around you, creating the illusion of a completely genuine and down to earth rocker who dabbles in acting, philanthropy and all around goodness. No one’s ever had a bad experience because no one’s ever truly met you. Not the real you.” She takes a deep breath as she shakes her head in disbelief now, a sarcastic laugh leaving her mouth, “And I thought, I really thought, that I had been wrong. Because these past months you really fooled me with your sweet smile and deep eyes. But when it comes down to it, you tricked me just like everyone else.”

Harry stares at her blankly and she shakes her head once more, feeling foolish. For thinking Harry was someone he wasn’t. For thinking the past few months had been real. For thinking that tonight would go off without a hitch. And the shit part of it was that she had really hoped that all of it was true. She wanted this to be her life, but her instincts had been right. Beware of the picture perfect because it always is just a mirage of deceit and lies.

“All I’ve got to say is you’re a damn good actor Harry, so at least you’ve got that going for you.” Then she pushes back from the table and stands, turning to Nick and Lily. “I really am so sorry, I understand that you probably want me to leave, so I’ll just be going,” her voice faltering at the end, she wasn’t as strong as she liked to pretend and she was pretty sure she just ruined her chances of working again in Hollywood. You’d have to be an idiot to be an enemy of Harry Styles and she feels like she just became his first.

“No!” Nick says quickly, standing too, “I think things just escalated really quickly and some things were said that both of you didn’t mean. Um...just, let’s take a few minutes to cool off. Harry could you and Lily deal with the dishes and I’m going to talk with Y/N alone.”

Everyone nods and Y/N follows Nick down a hallway, a little confused but following after he beckons her with his hand. They go out a side door and end up on a porch in the backyard. He stoops down and opens a little sitting mailbox she didn’t see and pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He places one between his teeth and then offers one to her. She accepts, not usually a regular smoker, but right now seemed like a fair time to indulge in the bad habit. She needed to calm her rapidly beating heart.

He lights the cigarette for her when he sees her shaking hands and then in turn lights his own. They stand on the porch beside each other and stare out into the dark night sky.

“Well, this wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go,” Nick starts, after a few exhales of smoke.

“No,” she laughs nervously, her foot toeing at the wooden slate on the porch. “I shouldn’t have tried to make a joke.”

“No one’s to blame,” Nick says quickly, glancing at her, “You and Harry...you both have really strong personalities and I don’t think either of you are used to being challenged.”

She nods along, she definitely had to agree after the argument they had both willingly gotten into in front of other people.

“I think that can be a really good thing, challenging each other, because then you two can both grow. But what happened in there was more of a battle to the death rather than a friendly spar.”

“Yeah,” she exhales, flicking at the burning cigarette between her fingers, “I don’t know why he gets under my skin sometimes in a way I’ve never dealt with and it’s kind of uncomfortable so I lash out, I guess.”

Nick stays quiet, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Ugh,” she groans, “I wish I hadn’t done that. We were doing so well, it’s like I don’t even really know what I’m saying, it’s like I can’t handle a friendly spar, I always end up going in for the kill - as you put it.”

She rubs at her face with her free hand and then takes a drag herself. Nick bites at his lower lip, trying to think of a solution.

“Y’know? Lily and I had concocted this plan to try and set you and Harry up tonight,” he says slowly, revealing the plan that had clearly been taken off the table as they just needed to attempt to salvage cordiality.

“Really?!” She’s in complete disbelief and slight dismay that the plan was seemingly ruined.

“Well,” he sputters, “When the two of you aren’t throwing verbal fireballs at each other, you’re actually quite sweet to one another. Those fond little glances you hope no one sees, well he does that too, and you both fail miserably because I see it all the time. I’m sure plenty of people do too.”

“Oh,” she states, visibly deflating. She looks to the ashtray conveniently on a table behind her and presses out the rest of the cigarette. “Should probably talk to him, huh?”

Nick nods, stamping out his nub of a cigarette as well. They go back inside and into the kitchen where Lily and Harry have plated dessert. Harry looks a little sheepish, likely having a similar conversation with Lily and she wouldn’t be surprised if her expression looks similar, if not a bit more flushed from the outdoor chill.

Lily murmurs that she and Nick are going to eat their dessert in the living room, a fair bit away from the kitchen and the two now deflated counterparts nod and then stare at each other, knowing what they need to do.

“Can we talk?” Harry rasps out, his voice even lower as he speaks softly, a mere foot away from her in the kitchen.

She nods, but moves further from him to lean against the counter and tuck her hands behind her. She’s lost her appetite and doesn’t want Harry to see her shaking digits.

He’s ducked his head and a stray curl falls over his forehead, laying there softly. He doesn’t move to fix it, just stares at his feet until she begins to talk. He can’t not look at her face when she speaks.

“So…” She slowly starts, not enjoying the tension in the room. Her eyes can’t meet his though, his stare dark and unnerving like usual, but almost painfully so now. “I can start.” She kicks at the tiling on the floor like she had done outside as well, trying to not think about the eyes trained on her right now. “I’m sorry I lashed out on you, Harry. I didn’t mean what I said, it was just a heat of the moment response.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Harry says immediately once she finishes speaking, “I shouldn’t have gotten upset over a silly joke and brought up a sensitive subject. Then it escalated…”

“Yeah, I really liked the friendship we’ve garnered these past few months and I just can’t believe I almost ruined everything - including my career…” she squeaks at the end and tears start to roll from her eyes. “Oh god,” she is hit with the gravity of all that she almost ruined as Harry stares at her again. “I’m so sorry, Harry, I really am. Do you forgive me? I don’t think I could stand it if you didn’t.”

She stands there and feels sobs wrack through her and her hands go to cover her face out of embarrassment. She had caused a scene and now she was making another one. In front of Harry.

In an instant his arms are wrapped around her frame and he’s hushing her cries. They had never hugged before, but now seemed like as good a time as ever. His arms were strong around her and she pressed her face into his chest, not caring at all about how she looked or whether this was worse than getting in a fight and running off.

“Of course I forgive you,” he says and then begins repeating her name over and over, trying to soothe her. He definitely had been hurt by her words, but it seemed like she was more upset about the whole situation than he was and he didn’t think bringing up what specifically had hurt him would help her frame of mind.

She settles after some time, her whimpers and tears subsiding after being rocked into a more peaceful mindset with the help of Harry’s calming voice and reassuring embrace.

“I really am sorry,” she whispers again.

Harry pulls his neck back and his head off the top of her head to look at her face. It was tear stained and her eyes were glassy, lips slightly puffy. He gave her a soft tight-lipped smile. “No more apologies,” he states sternly and then softens again at the slight quiver in her lip. He pulls from her a little more, leaving her at arm's length, with his hands still attached to her hips, fingers slipping over the plaid fabric. “I meant to tell you this earlier, before things…” he stares at her face again and she holds it this time, “You look beautiful tonight.”

She scoffs and her eyes immediately drop to her feet, “Definitely not anymore.” She doesn’t believe Harry.

“‘M serious,” he insists. His right index finger goes to rest beneath her chin and brings her face up to look back at him.

“Sure,” she says, still not convinced but not sure how else to respond. She feels herself warming at all the positive attention he’s pouring into her.

His gaze won’t falter from her face, he’s intent upon making her understand him. He whispers her name, “Accept the compliment.”

“You’re stubborn,” she notes.

“So are you,” he counters quickly.  

“Fine, thank you,” she sighs when he won’t stop giving her that look of his. That look that makes her want to melt into the ground because it feels like she’s the only person in the world. “Though you looked especially good tonight, too,” she adds, her hands rubbing over his shoulders softly.

“Thank you,” Harry states lowly, the words only traveling to her ears. His hands fiddle with the sides of her top, thinking about the night and where they were now. Her eyes were red from crying and overall she looked tired beyond her years. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“That’d be nice.”

They make a quiet farewell to Nick and Lily, as well as apologies from both her and Harry. They don’t speak in the car and the music plays loud enough for it to not seem unreasonable for them to be silent. Harry’s hands don’t tap against the steering wheel, they sit in their spots stoically doing their job and nothing more. She watches the window, legs crossed and hands clasped in her lap. She’s thankful for the music because she knows that even though they had talked, it wasn’t enough. What she had said was hurtful and one apology wasn’t enough for how she had behaved. She didn’t think her and Harry would be the same after tonight, but the silence made it possible for her to pretend none of it had happened.

Just as Harry’s car is pulling up the apartment complex that is far darker now, the harsh splatter of rain begins to fall on the pavement and the sleek black car the two are still sat in.

“Oh,” she comments offhandedly, just responding to what she had noticed.

The rain grows louder when Harry parks and then turns off the car. He glances at her for the first time since they got into the car. She registers the look out of the corner of her eye, her face still looking out at the rain. She loved the rain, but there wasn’t always a lot in Southern California, especially not in Palm Springs. It seemed that tonight was different.

“Well,” Harry breaks his silence, she thinks that’s her cue to leave and unbuckles her seatbelt, but he continues. “This certainly wasn’t how I expected this night to go.”

She stops moving, her hand hovering over the handle of the door. She sits back and settles into the seat, feeling her teeth bite into the plush of her bottom lip.

“That’s what people keep saying,” her eyes remain on the rain hitting the front of the car, the splatters of seemingly black liquid that form when the clear rain touches the onyx hood of the car.

“Huh?” Harry grows perplexed at the rather wistful tone of her and how she won’t look at him again. He was still hurt, but he had hoped them talking in the kitchen had straightened some things out. During the car ride he hadn’t wanted to talk, but it didn’t mean he was still angry with her. Just confused, and growing further confused by the second.

“Oh,” she repeats, “Didn’t Lily say? Her and Nick concocted that dinner in hopes to set us up.”

Harry hums, knowing that because Nick had left out a little part of that plan. That he had been a part of it. He had been talking with Nick about getting to know her better outside of work and how Nick had thought it’d be a good idea to have dinner so he had told Lily and they set it up like a casual dinner party. Harry didn’t know how to respond because her knowing that he was in on the plan might just make matters worse. He really didn’t think things could get much worse, but it seemed that they always managed to make it happen so in the end he decided to keep his mouth shut.

“I don’t know if we’d ever be able to work out differences out for that,” she decides to continue, when Harry stays quiet. She scans the interior of the car and watches Harry for the briefest moment before going back to looking out the window. “Nick said that we challenge each other to grow, but all I see us do is hurt each other.”

Her voice is just above the rain pattering outside the car and Harry thinks it sounds almost melodic if it weren’t for the sadness laced in every word.

“I disagree,” he states before wetting his lips.

“Of course you do,” she laughs in spite of herself.

“Even after all these months together and you still don’t get it. I like you.”

“You don’t like me, I don’t know how you could ever like me,” she shakes her head. “We just...we get under each other’s skin. You can make me so angry sometimes and I know I make you angry too. And when we’re not angry, we’re focussed on something that doesn’t have to do with ourselves.”

“I don’t think what you feel for me is anger,” Harry insists, “Just because something feels burning and fiery, frustrating even, doesn’t mean it’s anger.”

His body shifts closer to the center divide and she turns to face him finally. His eyes are extra dark in this lighting, which is barely there from a streetlamp a ways off. She longs for the comfort of his light green eyes, the soft pale glow of the moss that seems to have been trapped within his iris. Maybe for that reason she unknowingly leans closer to him.

“Then what is it?” She whispers, eyes blinking slowly as her breathing grows strained.

“Passion.”

Immediately, her head is tilting to meet his lips. Her mind knows one thing, she needs to be kissing Harry right now. And then she is. His left hand goes to cup her cheek as his lips attach themselves to hers. His soft lips press to hers in a long searing kiss. They stay there for a moment, pressing all of that passion and frustration into the kiss.

She presses impatiently forward, her lips starting to move more, wanting to kiss him deeper. Harry obliges, parting his lips and kissing her more vigorously. He licks into her open mouth and smiles at the sound she makes in appreciation for his actions.

She’s shifted to have herself kneeling on the leather seat and she’s leaning over the console. One of her hands finds purchase on Harry’s thigh and grasps tightly, her other at the back of his neck, pressing him closer if it were possible.

His chest is pressing against hers as he pulls her closer. He kisses her and his fingertips rub softly at the apple of her cheek. Eventually they run behind the shell of her ear and trail down her neck.

Eventually, she pulls away and stares at Harry. She watches as his eyes flutter open gently. His soft eyelashes dust his cheeks before moving away, allowing his eyes to peer at her in the dark.

Her breathing feels a little irregular after the kissing and she’s sure she is heaving her chest slightly, likely mirroring Harry’s chest as well.

“So, where to now?” She inquires, lips quirked up at her suggestion.

Harry giggles and scratches his nose against his index finger.

-

Harry doesn’t stay the night, he walks her up to her apartment door though. He kisses her chastley in front of her door and wraps an arm around her waist as he does so. He bids her a goodnight and a promise of seeing her soon.

They don’t see each other for a month. Both of them had been so blissful after the endorphins of kissing their person that they had forgotten that filming had wrapped. They weren’t set to work for a month. Harry texted her the next morning informing her that he’d be in England until filming resumed. She was still going to be in California, filming was moving back to Los Angeles, so she’d be back in her place there. Her family knew she was working, so they had sent her presents ahead to her place instead. Angie, her only true friend in the area, was spending her time with her actual family and Y/N didn’t want to intrude.

So the holidays were going to be spent alone. Those four weeks alone passed surprisingly quickly. She practiced techniques on herself, bought a tiny Christmas tree like the one in A Charlie Brown Christmas, watched A Charlie Brown Christmas and just about every other holiday movie possible. She fell in love with young Hugh Grant and Colin Firth for the thousandth time. She sang carols to herself and decorated her place with decorations from Target. She jammed out to the new Miley Cyrus album and held dance parties for herself in the house. She baked cookies and even attempted a trifle after watching a Great British Bake Off episode. She did and she did all in hopes that her mind wouldn’t wander to the guy who hadn’t called.

Harry texted occasionally, but it was infrequent at best. He was a busy person, she knew that. She knew who he was. And she didn’t want her mind to have enough time to feel sorry for herself. For her to think that she was just somebody to pass the time with while at work, because if she stopped doing things that’s where her mind would wander. Why did her mind spiral like it did? She had no idea, she’d always been like that.

His absence, their separation, made her question if her own feelings were even true. She wondered if when she saw him he would act as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t said their relationship was passionate and she had kissed him until she couldn’t breath.

Too much time alone, she needed some fresh air. On January 2nd, after an uneventful night at home and a lackluster countdown washed down with cheap champagne, she decided to go and walk around near her place. There was a coffee shop that wasn’t extremely expensive that she also liked that she figured she would get coffee from. After a brisk walk, she walked through the store's doors and ordered an iced green tea. As she waited, she watched the other customers around her, wishing to see a friendly face, someone she knew. And seconds later, she was met with half of that wish. Someone she knew, not necessarily a friendly face.

“Autumn.” She states with a grimace when someone taps her on the shoulder and she spins around.

“Y/N? It is you!” Autumn, one of the PA’s from Don’t Worry Darling who was especially in Harry’s business, exclaims overly happy as per usual.

Y/N bites the inside of her cheek and gives a tight lipped smile, trying her best to be cordial.

“How’s your holiday been!” Autumn asks.

“Great. You?”

“So great!” She’s quick to lean closer and say in a hushed tone, “But I miss working on set, especially getting to see that Harry everyday. He’s just so gorgeous.”

A breath gets stuck in Y/N’s chest at the mention of Harry’s name. Her brows can’t help but raise a bit at Autumn’s comment. Even lowering her voice didn’t make it feel alright to talk about Harry like this. He was her friend after all.

“Sure.” Y/N nods abruptly, realizing Autumn wants some recognition of what she’s just said. Y/N’s eyes glance around the room, hoping for an out like her drink is ready or something - no such luck.

“I mean,” Autumn keeps talking, of course, “You’re so lucky. You get to see him shirtless, like what? Everyday practically? Don’t tell me you don’t miss that just a little bit!”

“I miss working,” Y/N says, avoiding what Autumn is trying to get her to say. “And Harry’s my friend, could you maybe not talk about him like that with me?”

Autumn’s eyes widened in shock, her lips parted dumbfounded by her co-worker's response. Y/N’s name is called for her drink and she’s thankful for the serendipitous nature of that sound getting her out of the awkward situation she had just been in.

When she gets back to her apartment, she surprisingly has a text from Harry himself. She’s always telling everyone; speak of the devil and he will appear, in one way or another. It’s a Happy New Year well wish followed by a separate text asking how she was.

It was sent a minute ago so she decides to try and give him a call. She preferred talking on the phone over texting.

It rings a few times and then, again surprisingly, he picks up.  

“‘Lo?” His voice is nice and deep and sounding extra British after his weeks surrounded by family and such.

“Harry,” she sighs contentedly.

“Happy to hear your voice,” he says her name and she can tell he’s smiling just like she is, from ear to ear.

She bites at her lip, hearing him say her name.

“I’m well, thanks,” she says after a moment of happy silence.

“What?” Harry laughs, confused.

“You texted asking me how I was and I called to respond.”

“Got it,” Harry chuckles, and she hears him shuffling around, likely sitting down on something.

“How are you?” She continues.

“Good, starting to wind down for the day,” he lists off the things he’s been doing over the past few days. Some of it work related, some of it family activities. All of it fun, he insists. “What did you do today?” He finishes, knowing she was an avid activity doer based off of the snaps she had sent him over the past few weeks.

“Tidied my place, went to the coffee shop and got iced tea…” she tries to think and then she gasps, “Oh! And I saw Autumn, one of the Don’t Worry Darling PA’s -”

“The one who’s obsessed with me?”

“Exactly!” She laughs, “And I may have kind of told her off… accidentally.”

“Accidentally told her off?” Harry repeats, incredulous. “How’d you do that?”

“Well,” she doesn’t want to tell him the rest, but there’s also a tiny part of her that really does, “She was gushing about you, which, ew. And then she asked if I missed seeing you shirtless everyday.”

“Well do you miss seeing me shirtless?” Harry smirks.

“Oh shut up!” She’s quick to reply.

“So you do?”

“If I really wanted to see you shirtless, all I’d have to do is type in “Harry Styles sh” and it would come up,” she rolls her eyes even though she knows he can’t see them. “Wouldn’t even need the whole word. Guaranteed.”

“Uh-huh?” Harry questions still, “If you want me to send you shirtless pictures that the rest of the world hasn’t seen, Y/N, all you have to do is ask.”

“I do not want you to send me shirtless pictures of yourself!” She exclaims. She feels like jumping out of a window right now. This conversation had escalated so quickly and she felt herself flushing, maybe even perspiring a little bit. And she also knew that she also would probably like it if he sent her shirtless pictures, which made this whole thing worse.

“Offer stands,” he says, smug as he normally was, happy he got to banter with her again. It had been dull without her, if he was honest with himself. “If you ever find yourself in need, just send a cheeky text and I’ll whip one out for you, no matter where I am or what I’m doing.”

“See this sounds like you’re saying something sincere, but really you’re just telling me you’ll send me nudes at any time.”

“No one said anything about nudes!”

“Shirtless, nude, sounds like you’re getting too caught up in the details, hon.”

“No!” He protests, “You’re the one who’s supposed to be flustered right now, not me!”

“Aww, you’re flustered,” She coos.

Harry groans. “Whatever. I’ll be back on the 8th, be ready to go out on the 9th. I’m taking you on a proper date.”

“How do you know I’m going to say yes?” She bite her lip again, she’s really sweating now. She couldn’t believe he had just asked her out on a date out of nowhere. Out of them just joking about nudes. Maybe she didn’t know Harry as well as she thought.

“Because you called me,” he says confidently.

“I call everyone.”

“But I don’t offer shirtless pictures to everyone.”

“That has nothing to do with me saying yes to this date.”

“Or does it?”

She laughs at his words, at how his voice still manages to convey every facial expression and quirk of his lips. She knows there’s a smile on his lips as he stares in the distance, imagining her face just as she is his.

“Yes.” She smiles.

“Yes!” He repeats happily.

She hears him stand up and spin around possibly and she chuckles slightly, amused at the silly man across the world who had seemed to have stolen her heart.

“See you soon, Harry.”

“Not soon enough.”

-

On the Saturday of their date, Harry insists on picking her up. He meets her at her door and winks at her after pulling away from their short hug. He laces his hand in hers and she follows behind him as he all but drags her to his car that is downstairs. He seems giddy. His hair has grown out in the month he’s been gone and she knows they’ll cut it when filming resumes. He’s wearing Gucci flared blue jeans - she knows from the big logo on the bottom left pant leg - a ‘Waiting for Sunset’ graphic tee beneath a black cardigan with little animals and items knitted in it. And of course, his dirty ass vans. She had hoped that maybe Christmas would bring him a fresh pair from someone, but it seemed there was no such luck.

Either way, he looked good and upon scanning his outfit, she was pleased that she had dressed correctly for the occasion, knowing one of the sins of Los Angeles was being improperly dressed wherever you might go. Harry had said casual, but casual can always mean so many different things. She got it right with light wash high-waisted levi’s, a brown cream rib-knit long sleeve that buttoned like it could be a cardigan, and some fun chunky boots that added some height to her normal stature. She had contemplated between this and possibly twenty other tops and a few other bottoms. Landing on this felt right, plus it didn’t clash with Harry, the color of her shoes actually matched the color of the snake on the cardigan.

They both compliment each other on the way out to his car and she giggles when he stops and twirls her around. He says he didn’t get a “proper look” before for him to compliment her adequately. After the twirl, he nods and starts them off again, complimenting the specific pieces of her clothes and says she looks beautiful again. His giddiness was contagious.

“No Range tonight,” she muses when Harry stops them in front of a Mercedes-Benz cream convertible, top up.

“Not working,” he replies, unlocking the car with the key into the passenger’s side door handle.

She smiles and slides into the car and watches him jog around to his side and unlock it as well.

“Tonight is going to be fantastic,” he says, leaning over the console and kissing her cheek, just beside her lips.

And when he pulls away with that smug smile of his, she knows he kissed her there on purpose. But the little tease only makes her smile more. He was good at this. And he was right.

The night was fantastic. As was every night after. And she learned that Harry was so much more than anything she ever thought. She counted herself lucky to be loved by a man like him.

[luimagines]

Hi! I have a request, but first i wanna say your writing is absolutely amazing! The length + amount of time you put into these prompts is insanely good. Now! Onto the request, how would the boys react to a reader from a more modern era? Maybe a more modernized hyrule or our current point in time?

Masterlist

Thank you so much for the compliment! I'm happy to see the response even if this blog is still relatively new.

I hope I do your prompt justice.

I probably could have done a headcanon list but I was hit with inspiration.

I also might have given Reader some backstory.

Scenario below the cut! It’s long, take caution.

It was a cool night, but you didn't mind. Your bed was warm, the WiFi was fast and even if it was three AM on a school night, you managed to keep yourself giggling with cat videos and blursed memes until the words and colors merged.

A night well spent.

But it led to questionable decisions.

Even if the shredded cheese in the fridge was beginning to seem a more and more enticing snack, your body was tempted to succumb to slumber.

Until a large purple light encompassed the entirety of your window.

Something was in your backyard.

Aliens. Your tired brain supplies and you sprint to the glass and push away the curtains. Is this it? Is this where I'm kidnapped and never seen or heard from again?

You pull out your phone and open up the camera.

"Pics or it didn't happen." You remind yourself and snap a few before showing your face.

What you see isn't what you're expecting. Instead of a flying saucer in the sky beaming down a laser or a weird pear shaped space craft on top of the grass, there's a single panel of glowing light, swirling with black accents that creeps in a circular motion.

"Cheese and crackers...." You gasp and begin to blatantly stare at it with no regard to whether something may be coming out of it.

You wait and nothing happens.

You wait some more and nothing happens.

You spend an hour watching this portal that has appeared out of nowhere, waiting for something to happen, willing for something to happen. But you get nothing.

The unknown stares right back at you, unblinking and unchanged.

Go through it. A voice tells you. What if there's something on the other side?

"I'm going to die." You gulp and take a deep breath.

Who else gets a chance like this? The voice talks again. This could be a grand step towards a more modern society. A whole new world could be on the other side, waiting, reaching out, calling to humanity!

You think you a see a shadow move behind the portal and out of sight but it’s gone before you can even process it.

"Should I call the police?" You step away from the window, ignoring the thoughts, the voice- you're too tired to know if it's your own any more. What's the plan? How does one go about something like this?

Where’s your sense of adventure? Pack a bag and go! What if it goes away?

That last thought seems to get through to your tired brain and for a reason beyond your understanding, it latches onto it.

Now you’re excited.

You run to the closet and take out your old backpack. It used to be for school but it was fancier since it was the only one you could get. The bag had a replaceable water bag with a plastic straw connected through the back of it and the straps have just worn down enough to where they’re actually comfortable. It doubled as a hiking backpack and came with its own insulated lunch box that clasped on the back of it.

It’ll finally serve its purpose.

You quickly roll up your favorite blanket and strap it in tightly beneath the lunch box. You’re quick to take out two extra outfits and pack them as well as change out of your pajamas.

Ok. What would you need? You don’t know where you’d be going so this has to a catch all kind of deal.

You pack away your swiss army knife first for good measure. A solar powered charger for your phone and an extra pair of socks follow suit even after you’ve picked out the extra clothes.

You take out the water bag and run to fill it all the way to max capacity as you think of any other necessities.

You’d need food. You have a small jar of peanut butter and granola bars that can fit in the lunch box. You can bring your extra water bottle and put in the side pockets of the backpack, and maybe bring some of those powered flavor packets your brother loves so much. You think he has lemonade and some green tea ones.

Those would be great. He won’t mind, hopefully.

You let the bag overfill momentarily before running back to shove it in your bag. with the lid screwed tight.

Next you run to the kitchen, grabbing the first things that you thought of already and begin to look around for more.

You grab an unopened pack of beef jerky, a bag of veggie sticks and a half eaten bag of dried mangos.

During your search you grab the water bottle and fill that too.

You return to your room with your bounty and begin to carefully put everything in the box. With some more deliberation, you run back to the kitchen and make yourself a quick sandwich, eat it, make another one and pack that as well.

You look out side the window and the portal is still there.

The sun is beginning to rise now so you’re trying to go as fast as you can, unless you want to neighbors to think something is going on.

Even if it is.

You’re about to leave but in a stroke of brilliance, you run to pack sunscreen and bug spray as well. You see a small first aid pack that was bought recently for when you would take your family vacation but you reason that it might one of the most important things you’d have if you got hurt.

Into the bag it goes.

You grab your hoodie before you leave the door, wrap it around your waist and pocket your phone, your headphones and your wallet.

You feel immediately under packed when you step outside and see the portal up close.

It’s weirdly triangle shaped, you think and step closer.

You reach your hand out and try to touch it. It feels as if you put your hand through a humidifier but it’s not wet. It’s misty and cold but not necessarily unpleasant.

An idea hits you right before you take your first step through.

You pull up one of the earlier photo’s you took and send it to your friend’s group chat. It showed up in my backyard. I decided to make a bad late night decision and I’m going through. If you never hear from me again, I want you all to fight over my electronics. Winner takes all. Godspeed.

And you step through.

You had first assumed that it would merely take you tot he other side but very quickly realize that you have to walk through it.

The first part still had a little light but with time, it got darker. So dark that you couldn’t even see your hand in front of your face.

You kept walking.

As fast as the light disappeared, it came back and you stepped into the light of an open field, right in front of one, two, three, four, nine males that had appeared to be traveling towards you or rather, towards the portal.

The portal disappears in the process.

“Oh so we didn’t have to go through it! We had to gain another member!” One of them yells. “Would have been nice to know before we packed everything up!”

“Ho boy, where am I?” You ask and tighten your grip on your backpack. Why didn’t I bring a weapon?

They all had long tunics and swords on their backs. Old fashioned leather boots and hand bracers were the norm in this group and you realized very quickly that your jeans and t-shirt had wildly missed the memo.

“Dang, I didn’t think I’d walk into a LARP group. Sorry about that.” You sheepishly smile. “I had no idea where the portal was going to take me. But if you would be so kind-”

“Wait, what’s LARP?” One of them speaks up. He was a dirty blond and somewhere in the middle of the group height wise. He wore a white cape like thing with blue designs on the back but you didn’t recognize the symbol.

“Live Action Role Play?” You tilt your head. “It’s why you’re all dressed like that? Right?”

“This is just our clothes.” What appears to be the youngest bounces up to you. “What are you wearing?”

“First I could grab in my closet.” You admit and look down on it. It’s one of your comfiest shirts and best looking pants. You’re a little proud of yourself for finding those in the dark.

“Weird.”

“We’re heroes. We’re all named Link.” Cape guy speaks up again. “Is it safe to assume that you’re in the same boat?”

“Heroes?” Your eyebrows furrow together. “I’m not a hero and my name’s not Link.”

You’re quick to tell them your name and you watch as the confusion covers their faces. “My brother’s name is Link though if that helps anything.”

“Oh we needed him!” The youngest groans and it instantly irks you.

“What would you need with a five year old?” You deadpan and cross your arms. 

The information stuns the group.

“The portal showed up in the middle of the night and I’m the one that went through it. I’m pretty sure I was the only awake to even see it. Are you telling me that it was for my little brother?” You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t a little pissed. “My baby brother was supposed to go through it? He was asleep! He’s five. What kind of logic is that?!”

“Well...” The biggest and oldest of them runs a hand over his face. You think he has some cool tattoos and sick scar going across his eye but he looks about as angry as you feel, so you don’t say anything. “It appears the gods truly do not care for the hero’s maturity, only his existence.”

“Ok...What’s with all this hero talk?” You bite back. “What did... Where am I?”

“Hyrule.” The second with cool face tattoos speaks up. He’s got a large fur pelt around his shoulders and you have to tighten your grip against your backpack again to keep from reaching out to touch it.

Even so you feel yourself deadpan even more. “Hyrule? Like the ancient empire? The one that collapsed more than two thousand years ago? That Hyrule?”

You’re inclined to not believe them and write all of them off as crazy... but you also walked through a portal. And your grandma did say that magic existed in the strangest forms.

They all share looks of concern and some begin to murmur quietly amongst themselves but you’re too far gone to even notice.

“Did I time travel?” The idea hits you like a bus and you feel your eyes widen as you stare beyond the group. You quickly take our your phone and unlock it.

No signal.

“Is that a type of Sheikah slate?” Someone asks you.

“I don’t know what that is.” You reply automatically. “Wait, hold on, what year is it?”

“Why don’t you tell us what year you’re from and we can start from there?” The darkest brunette of the group speaks up.

“202x PC” You say robotically, not really processing the world around you anymore.

“That’s...” The blond with a long blue scarf speaks up with a slight hiss. “...Beyond any of our timelines. You see, we all come from different worlds and eras of Hyrule’s history.”

“I don’t think you’re the farthest down anymore, Wild.”

“This would then make them my successor, right?”

“It would make their brother your successor.” Someone amends. “I think they just jumped in his place.”

“Leave my brother alone.” You snap back into the present, pocketing your [hone again. “Ok, you know what, screw it. I don’t know what you’d want my brother for but I’m here now. I’d gladly take his place if it means he gets to stay home!”

“Hey.” A boy with pink hair stalks up to you looking a little more serious than you’d like.

“Nice hair dude, way to defy the gender norms.” You smirk a little before genuinely grinning, hoping to quell the tension. “What product do you use? It looks like Artic Fox but not every place sells their brand.”

“...I have no idea what you’re talking about but what happened to Ganon in your world? How have you been handling it?” He snaps and places his hands on his hips.

“Ganon? Like my old principle? That’s a name I haven’t heard in forever.” You’re confused again. “Last I heard he joined the police force only to be reassigned out of state. I don’t know what’s happening with him. Kinda hope he gets fired though. He’s not a bad guy but he’s not someone you’d want in that kind of position of power, you know.”

“Police force?”

You blinked and look them all over. They look very medieval. “Oh... You don’t have that...”

You begin to think about your history lessons and what they might be familiar with if they’re telling the truth about being from Hyrule.

“Ya’ll got knights?”

Many, almost all of them nod, a few with face of despair already on them before you finish speaking.

“It’s kind of like that. Mixed with a towns guard position... kinda. They enforce laws... at least they’re supposed to but the whole system is flawed and racist and really needs to be dismantled for the abuse of power that they have-”

“Abuse? Of power?” You have their attention again.

“It’s stupid and it won’t really make any sense if I try to explain because I doubt you have anything similar but it’s basically a group of people given the right to treat the public in anyway they like for their own benefit because they have no one telling them that they can’t.” You groan and slowly begin to feel your lack of sleep catch up to you. 

You slowly reach to behind you and sit down on the dirt, looking at all of them. “Mr. Dragmire wasn’t like...Demise or anything but he was a huge jerk. No one liked him. He liked me though. I remember that. I was the envy of the whole school because I somehow got on his good side while everyone else wants to strangle him. I think he was transferred for some misdemeanor or something like that... like he might have been throwing hands with someone he wasn’t supposed to. I never heard all the details. I didn’t really care for it when it happened either. I’m pretty sure he lost that fight though. The dude looked like a blast of wind could have knocked him over let alone someone’s knuckle sandwich.”

“I would love to hear more about this.” The youngest sits next to you with a large grin on his face. His eyes are bright and his body language reminds you of your cousin Zelda. You instantly think they’d get along like a house on fire. “What are your monsters like?”

“Monsters?” You tilt your head. “Be a little more specific bud, it depends on where you’re from.”

“You have that many?!”

“It depends on if you believe they’re real or not.”

“Speaking of monsters, can you fight?” The shortest walks up to you. You like that his tunic is stitched up with multiple colors and designs. It gives it personality, you think. “Do you have a weapon you’re more comfortable with?”

The question throws you off your rhythm and you don’t fight your wince. “What would happen if I say that I do not, in fact, have any sort of weapon on me?”

“I wouldn’t believe you.” Pink guy speaks up again. “That pack is huge, there has to be something in there.”

“It’s food, water and extra clothes my guy.” You lean back against said backpack since it won’t let you lay down with it still on. “Not a lot of space for anything else. I’m pretty good at hand to hand combat though. Karate’s a good way to fight out stress.” 

“Your bag’s not magic?”

“Why the hell would it be magic? ...Are you trying to tell me magic actually exists?” You raise an eyebrow as your eyes begin to close against your will. “I know my grandma said it does but I thought she meant like fairies and shadow demons.. and bigfoot. Can’t forget him, he’s the real MVP... You know...Children’s bedtime stories and stuff like that, it’s not real. But like magic magic? Magic items and the like? Find me Tinkerbell and I’ll show you Neverland, that’s what I say.”

“Are you serious?”

“Second star to the right, straight on till morning.” You respond.

There’s a moment of silence as the group in front of you processes your words. It’s hard to tell their reaction since you’re not looking at them but you no longer have the energy to do anything else.

“Are you falling asleep right now?” It’s the one they called Wild.

“I...” You try to open your eyes. They don’t budge. “I haven’t slept in nearly 20 hours... I think. I might have past 24 hours a while ago actually. Portal showed up at like four in the morning... I had to get up at six and I didn’t sleep at all before then.”

More silence.

“Great another one.” Someone scoffs.

You snort.

“Why did we pack up camp again?”

“No one kill me.” You say right before you lose consciousness. “Please and thank you.”

“They’re doomed.”

“Have some faith Vet. They stepped in for their little brother. That has to mean something?”

“They’re in for a rude awakening, and that’s all I have to say about it.”