#and I remember at the time noting (and being especially mad) that my description had my basic gender info right there. Like holy fuck

[earthmoonlotus]

I'm suddenly remembering (and having sad and resentful feelings about) a time when someone made a callout for me - for using the terms TME and TMA, no less (like, that was the supposed "problem" they were "calling out") - and called me a cis woman in the callout. When my description says "genderfae" right there at the top. (I remember changing my mobile header from the lesbian flag to the genderfae flag shortly after seeing it too, since it bothered me so much.)

[francisofthespook]

Closer

Oneshot

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: After a long journey, you and the group have finally settled down at Alexandria. You decide to throw a little party after you found a Nine Inch Nails CD while on a run. You spend most of the party waiting for your favorite archer to arrive. By the time he does, your favorite song is playing...

Setting: Alexandria, pre-saviors

Warnings: Suggestive content/Drinking/Descriptions of being drunk/I don't really know what to put here I've never done warnings before so if I'm missing something please let me know !

Word count: 4,433

Author's Note: Hi ok so this is the first time I've written like this in literally so long, the last time I remember writing fanfic or oneshots was when I was deep in the 1D fandom in like 2013 and it was dogshit. So please be patient with me while I figure this out again. If there are any errors or I do anything wrong, kindly let me know and I will fix it. I love you all, I have been inspired by so many of you great writers on here and it has renewed my love for writing <3 (especially you @thevegandarkelf <333)

(ps divider and gif made by me:) )

((pps if the gif or dividers act weird lmk because I've never made them before))

OK HERE IT IS !!

Parties. If someone were to ask you what you missed the most since the dead started rising, you would say parties. (Or maybe your Juul, but there were good enough replacements for that…) You had been in your first year of college when the fall happened, far from your family and in a city you didn’t know that well. But you were lucky enough to have been out of the inner city when things started to fall apart. Even though you had a good distance between you and downtown, you were still not shielded from the chaos that ensued when the dead began attacking. You had been out working on an assignment for your environmental studies class by a quarry when the cell towers went down. Since you had most of your stuff on you, you decided to stay put until you got reception again. (ha.)

It wasn't too long after, that a small group began forming at the quarry. And there, you met your new family. It hadn’t been easy, far far from it actually, but you guys survived. You took it day by day, but you survived. You weren't particularly skilled in survival, but your group was, and you had picked up little things along the way that crafted you into the person you were now.

Your group had set up several camps along the way, but none of them lasted long enough to get too comfortable. So when you finally landed at Alexandria, the hesitancy was looming for a while. For the first few days, everyone slept in one house, despite being offered each a place of your own. To be honest, you loved sharing a house with everyone. Not just because of the safety it made you feel, but also because it just meant getting to stay close to a certain archer that you had grown fond of.

Daryl was… hard to read. He was quiet and stoic most of the time, but around you he got a little softer. You knew he liked you, but you weren't sure if he like liked you, like you did. But in fear of ruining the friendship you had worked so hard to build, you kept quiet and substituted flirting with friendly gestures. Letting him know that you cared, but not that you cared cared. Sure, there had been many times when it felt like all the cues were lined up and you could just lean over and kiss him, but you knew him well enough to know that even if he maybe felt the same way, his emotions would overwhelm him and he would probably run. So you played it safe. A good rule of thumb, especially in this world.

However, after a while, your group slowly started to let their guard down. They accepted that Alexandria could be what you all had been looking for. You started to get just a little bit comfortable. You could tell this shift in the group's demeanor frustrated Daryl. He wouldn't allow himself to let his guard down and he thought you all were mad for beginning to trust this place given your past experiences. But you didn't care, you were just relieved to finally be able to get a good night's sleep without having to worry about the dead stumbling upon you while you weren't conscious.

When Deanna threw the first party, you were sold. It was a quaint gathering of everyone in the community, nothing like the ragers you knew from high school and college, but it gave you hope. Hope that there was still a chance to get back to where you were, or at least close to it. You had begun to feel less and less human every day that you were on the road. But being here with a drink in your hand and a skirt on for the first time in god knows how long, you started to feel human again.

When you found the CD on the run, Daryl had scoffed and told you to put it back. “There's nothing wrong with bringing back something fun” you had told him. “Yeah well fun's not gonna keep us alive now ain't it?” he replied. Maybe he hadn't meant for it to sound so harsh, but it hurt just a bit. You had frowned and looked down at your shoes, feeling deflated with guilt. “I know we need to survive, but we also need to still feel like humans.” you sighed and looked back up at him. At seeing your expression, his own softened. “When we were out there on the road, I forgot what that felt like. It may just be a stupid CD, but it reminds me what we're fighting for.” He didn't say anything after that. Just gave you a small smile, a nod, and squeezed your shoulder while he walked past you to continue gathering items from the shelves.

You had been planning it for weeks, and it had finally come to fruition. You invited everyone from your group and some of the Alexandrians that you had gotten to know over the past few weeks. It definitely wasn’t a frat party like the ones you used to know, but it was close enough. The CD you had found a while back was blaring through the house as you filled up another cup of your DIY ‘jungle juice’. Admittedly, Nine Inch Nails were never your favorite band, but you remember how their album ‘The Downward Spiral’ used to spin on your record player while you absentmindedly did chores around your college apartment. Human, you remember how it made you feel human. Though you obviously never acknowledged that feeling at the time.

It was definitely funny to see everyone's reaction to the music when you had put the CD in the player. For some reason, the group had formed a collective opinion of what you were like before the fall that did not include ‘listens to rock’. But like the others, being given a safe place to stay allowed your true personality to shine through as the stability and comfortability grew, bringing you one step closer to the girl you used to be. As the drinks kept flowing, the attendees became more agreeable to the music. (Plus it was the only CD you had, so it would have to work whether they liked it or not.)

The party went on, and you found yourself discreetly scanning the crowd for your favorite archer, but were disappointed when you were met with his absence. Of course, you knew that something like this was extremely out of his wheelhouse, but still, you were sad to see he had yet to show up. 

“So, don't feel like you have to… but I’m having a party this weekend, and I would really like it if you came.” You turned your head to look at him and gauge his reaction. “A party?” He scoffed and looked back down at the squirrel he was gutting on your porch steps. “Dun think that's really my scene." He grunted. "Plus, got more important things t’do.” You looked back out at the street in front of you and nodded your head. Trying to hide your disappointment and biting your lip. “I figured.” You replied. “But still,” You looked back at him again, “it would mean a lot to me if you came.” You gave him a small smile when he met your eyes. His expression softened, like it often did when he looked at you. An annoying habit he couldn't seem to shake off. He would never admit it, but he had grown an achingly large soft spot for you over the years, you were his reason to keep going, keep fighting, you were his Achilles heel. 

He had a hard time understanding his feelings towards you. He knew he liked you, you were his friend. But if he had only ever acknowledged you as a friend, then why did his heart speed up just a bit when you looked into his eyes? Why did he feel a fluttering in his stomach when you gave him a big toothy grin after finally catching a deer you had been tracking? Why did his shoulder feel like it had been brushed by a flame whenever he shouldered past you? He didn't want to think about it. Stuff like that didn't matter given the state of the world. Or did it?

“I'll see if I can make it” He finally mumbled. Not wanting to let you know that you had won him over, or the effect that you had on him. “Really?!” you squealed, your eyebrows shooting up your forehead and a huge smile on your face. “Dun push it.” He grumbled as he shifted his focus back to the squirrel. But as he turned his head, he made sure his hair fell in front of his face to hide the small smile that was forcing its way out. “Okay! I'll see you Friday then.” you beamed as you got up, using his shoulder to help yourself stand. There was that fire again.

As ‘March of the Pigs’ began playing, you had given up on waiting for him. Throwing back another shot of whatever you could find in front of you and swaying to the music as you re-entered the dancing crowd. It was a little silly to see everyone acting so loosely, never in a million years would you have guessed that the Rick Grimes could actually somewhat dance, it was amusing nonetheless. You made your way towards him and Glenn on the makeshift dancefloor and started moving along with them. 

“This is the best party I’ve been to in years!” Glenn shouted to you over the music. Rick chuckled and took another sip from his cup before pointing out, “It's the only party you’ve been to in years” You laughed and threw your head back, the alcohol making everything funnier than it should be. You reached for Rick's shoulder to steady yourself as your laughing died down. You felt warm and tingly, your head light, your smile so big it was making your cheeks sore. You felt human. Your expression shifted as you watched the two boys focus on the front door closing. You turned your head to see what they were looking at, but the alcohol made you dizzy from your movements and you further leaned into Rick for support, your drink sloshing in your cup as you spun. “What?” you slurred to them. Rick locked eyes with you again. “Daryl’s here.”

A sobering shot of butterflies ran through you and you tried to hide your excitement before Rick and Glenn could see it, but it was too late. “Told you it was Daryl, man! You owe me five bucks.” Glenn laughed and pointed to Rick. “Okay, okay,” Rick chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. “When the war on the dead is over and society goes back to normal, I will be sure to give you five dollars.” He replied as he rolled his eyes. You looked between the two of them, “Five doll- what? What are you talking about?” You sputtered out. Glenn put his hand on your shoulder and leaned down close to you while whispering as quietly as he could given the state of the music, “It was just a little bit obvious that you were waiting for someone to show up” he said, holding up his fingers in a pinching motion.

Your eyes grew wide with surprise and a little embarrassment as he pulled away. “What?! No, I was not! What’re you talking about?!” Glenn straightened back up and gave you a smirk. “You're not as discrete as you think you are” You felt the already present heat in your cheeks grow even hotter. “I was betting on it being Spencer but I guess I was wrong.” Rick shrugged and you looked at him in horror. “What? Spencer?! God no!” “So you were waiting for Daryl then, right?” You looked back at Glenn, shooting him a warning look. He held his hands up in surrender “Hey man, I'm just calling it as I see it. Not my fault you've had a blaring crush on him since the farm.” You covered your face with your forearm in embarrassment and the movement made a droplet of your drink fall to the ground. “Oh my god, is it really that obvious?” You dragged your arm down your face before looking back up at the two. They looked at each other before focusing back on you and giving small, smug nods. 

“But hey, look on the bright side. One, I don't think he's noticed. And two, it's obvious he feels the same way.” Rick gave you a sly grin and a pat on the back. You removed your hand from his shoulder and shook your head. “You guys are making me so self-conscious now” You chuckled to yourself before hiding your face again. Glenn gave you a reassuring smile and said, “Go, talk to him. He obviously came because you asked him to. If it were anyone else he would have walked away before they could get the full invite out.” 

You groaned and took a deep breath before addressing the boys again. “Okay, fine. But when it's made obvious that he does not like me, and just came out of pity, then you both owe me five dollars.” You pointed your finger at them and they laughed before nodding and giving you a thumbs up as you backed away and chugged the rest of your drink.

You approached Daryl as your favorite Nine Inch Nails song started playing. The swirling bassline of ‘Closer’ making you feel light in the head again. Or was it the sight of him standing there, basking in the soft glow of the lamp from the entry hall? He looked uncomfortable, shifting his weight between his feet and looking around like he didn't know where to stand. You grabbed another cup from the table as you walked past it and towards him. Trying to play it cool, you sauntered up to him until you were standing right in front of him. You were close, definitely too close, but the alcohol had messed up your depth perception and you totally didn't mean to land that close to him. Yeah, definitely the alcohol… 

“Well hello stranger, didn't expect to see you here” You sung out as you handed him the cup. Was that too much? Oh god, that was too much. Gotta take it down a notch. You looked down and shuffled backward a bit so you weren't encroaching on his personal space. His discomfort seemed to dissolve as he looked at you. His shoulders visibly relaxing a bit and a small grin spread on his face. “I told ya I'd come.” He replied, stifling a small laugh. “You told me you'll see if you can make it, which is ‘Daryl code’ for ‘I definitely won't be there but I don't want to tell you no to your face’ ” You pointed towards him but you miscalculated the distance again and landed your finger in the middle of his chest. Yeah, totally the alcohol, definitely not the magnetizing pull you feel toward him every time you are in the same room. Whatever.

You worried for a split second that your poor attempt at flirting had come across as an insult, but were quickly relieved at the sound of his small laugh once again. God, that laugh made you feel like you had drank all the liquor in this house. It made you feel buzzy and your whole body shuddered at the feeling. “If it were anyone else yeah, but I'd never stand ya up.” You made eye contact with him as he smiled at you and suddenly the room was empty, and it was just you two staring into each other's souls. 

Nothing else around you registered in your mind as you stared into his blue eyes and drowned out all the background noise. You leaned closer and muttered as sultry as you could, “Well I guess I must be pretty important then, huh?” You tried, but it came out with a hint of a slur. Maybe it was the drink he had begun sipping on, or maybe the fact that the music was loud enough that no one could hear him, or maybe it was because everyone else was already tipsy enough that they were paying you no attention, but a small wave of confidence visibly came over him as he leaned into your ear and whispered, “I guess you could say that.” He lingered by your ear for a minute before pulling back and locking eyes with you again.

You weren't sure how to react. Your body felt like it was on fire, the root of it at your ear where he had just been, still feeling the breath of his words like a ghost against your head. You tried to play it cool. You stepped back while outstretching your hand to him, “Come dance with me, this is my favorite song.” You flashed him a smile and he scoffed and took another sip of his drink. “I dun dance.” He shook his head. “Maybe not in general, but tonight you do.” You tried to counter, but he just shook his head again while smiling. “Ya go on and dance to yer song. I'll be here when yer done.” You rolled your eyes but started to move back towards an even tipsier Glenn and Rick. 

You let me violate you

You let me desecrate you

“Who is this again?” Rick asked as you approached them. “Nine Inch Nails.” You replied, taking a sip from the new cup you had grabbed on your way back over. “Pretty raunchy, not somethin’ I would’ve listened to.” He responded. “Well judging by the way you've been dancing I wouldn't say you hate it.” You scoffed. “So? How’d it go?” Glenn cut in. “Mmm” you bit your lip, unsure if you should confide in them the heated moment you just experienced.

You let me penetrate you

You let me complicate you

“He said he wouldn't have come if it were anyone else's party. So I guess that's a good thing…” You said, sounding unsure of yourself. You didn't want to overthink anything, you were worried that you were just making up his attraction to you in your head. You were trying to save yourself from the embarrassment if it did end up being something you misread. “Good thing? That's a great thing!” Glenn countered. “Is he not coming over?” He questioned, looking around to see Daryl still leaning against the wall by the front door, sipping on his drink. “Nah, I told him to come dance with me, this is my favorite song on this album, but he told me to go dance and he would be there when I came back.” You replied, trying not to sound too disappointed. 

(Help me) I broke apart my insides

(Help me) I’ve got no soul to sell

“Well then let him be a party pooper. We’ll dance with you.” Rick gave you a smile as the three of you continued to sip on your drinks while swaying to the music. You glanced over your shoulder briefly to check on Daryl and found him staring directly at you. He looked almost… jealous? Well if he was, then it was his own fault for staying over there instead of coming to dance with you. But why would he be jealous? You were suddenly struck with a devious idea that sober you would never have executed. You started singing along to the lyrics, you knew what was coming next, and your stroke of boldness had taken over your brain. You angled your body and turned your head back towards Daryl, trying to make it look as natural and inconspicuous as possible, and began mouthing the lyrics at him. 

Help me, the only thing that works for me

If you weren't sure before, you were sure now. As you began mouthing the lyrics while dancing closely to Rick and Glenn, Daryl's stare became more intense, more purposeful. He was jealous. You took that as an advantage and shifted your attention back to the two boys in front of you. This time you threw your head back at an angle while mouthing the next line, trying desperately to get Daryl to see you, but also trying to make sure it didn't look like you were doing it on purpose.

Help me get away from myself

As the line rang through the small house, you made a split decision to make a bold move. As you sang the next line out, you turned your head once again and looked him directly in the eyes. His were already locked onto yours, and you stared him down as you sang,

I wanna fuck you like an animal

You swayed and moved your hips to the beat, the skirt you were wearing rising up ever so slightly over your thighs as you did a subtle squat as you swayed. You looked back toward your dancing buddies again, hoping they hadn't noticed what you were doing, but they were oblivious. In their own little words dancing along to the music and the flow of liquor through their veins. 

I wanna feel you from the inside

The music continued to bounce through the air, the room had become hot and humid, adding to the tension you felt towards Daryl. A small bead of sweat rolled down your back as you continued moving your hips to the beat.

I wanna fuck you like an animal

You felt a sudden ignition of a flame against your hips as two large hands began to sneak around them from behind. For just a second, you froze in fear, before your nose picked up the all too familiar notes of him, this time with a hint of liquor. You didn't look back, you didn't acknowledge him, you just kept dancing. Ever so slightly grinding up against him as he stood stiff behind you. Rick and Glenn, still oblivious to what was going down right in front of them.

My whole existence is flawed

You ran your hands up through your hair, your cup had been lost at some point but that was beyond your thought parameters right now. You slowly arched your head backward and leaned into him. Almost by instinct, like some primal urge that existed within him and had been lying dormant for years, he leaned his head down into your neck and breathed you in. You slightly craned your neck to the side to make space for him. A combustion of nerves spread like wildfire throughout your entire body. The space on your neck where his breath was hitting felt white hot, numb, and electric all at the same time. You felt like you were being born again, it took everything in you not to let out a small moan right there. The overwhelming feeling of him being on you took over and as the next line played out, you angled your head up just enough so that your mouth was at his ear and whispered to him the next line,

You get me closer to god

He grunted and pulled you closer into him. Bringing your arms down from holding your hair up, you placed them over his hands that were gripping your hips. His breathing was a constant flow against your neck as you continued to subtly dance up against him, causing droplets of condensation form on your skin. The whole room was spinning now, but not from the alcohol. No, his touch had sobered you up from that, but now you were drunk off him. You spun around to face him and put your arms around his neck as he adjusted to wrap his around your waist.

“Hi,” you whispered with a sickening grin on your face, eyes locked directly into his and your faces so close, your noses almost brushed against each other's. “Hey,” He whispered back, obviously fighting off a grin. “So you do dance then?” You challenged, hoping that you wouldn't scare him off by being a little more direct. “I guess for ya I do” He murmured. You took this a green light to push a little further. Looking off to the side while you feigned innocence you said, “Well I wonder what else you can do for me that you wouldn't do for anyone else…” That was it. That was as far as you could push it, you had thrown the ball into his court and it was his turn now to take the reins and show it, if he did have any interest in you that is.

He was taken aback a bit by your remark, but he quickly shook off the surprise. He looked into your eyes, searching for the sign that you wanted this as badly as he did. He thought he saw it, but he wasn't sure if he was just blinded by his own attraction and deflecting it onto you. But in the millisecond that his mind ran through all the possibilities of disaster that could come from misinterpreting your interactions, he decided to take a chance. He bit his lip before he slowly leaned into you yet again, brought his lips to your ear, and whispered, “I can show ya if ya want.” 

Your veins filled with ice, your heart stopped beating, the butterflies in your stomach turned into wasps, buzzing around rapidly and stinging your insides with desire. He pulled back and looked at you. As hard as you tried, you couldn't close your mouth as it hung slightly agape. He did feel the same way. He did want you as badly as you wanted him. Your mouth formed into a smile with your eyes half-lidded, weighted down from the lust you felt towards him. “Okay,” you spoke, barely audible. 

Moving your hands down to his, you wrapped your small ones around his large ones and pulled them off of your hips. You slowly turned around, looking back at Glenn and Rick one more time before you began, as discreetly as possible, pulling Daryl towards the stairs that lead up to your room. He froze for a second, and you looked back at him. He hadn't really meant ‘right now’ when he said that, but he was filled with butterflies as he accepted that you definitely meant ‘right now’ and he let you pull him behind you and up the stairs. 

When you reached the last step, you glanced out at the partygoers, making sure that everyone was occupied and hopefully wouldn't notice your and Daryl’s absence for a little bit. As you scanned the crowd you locked eyes with Rick and Glenn who were holding back smug looks. You threw them a middle finger before taking the last step and guiding Daryl into your room, closing and locking the door behind you. Hopefully, the music was loud enough that no one would hear you…

okay there it is, plus the song that inspired it ! pls be nice :)

[venus-haze]

Rip 'Em to Shreds (Mickey Altieri x Reader)

Summary: Mickey’s your boyfriend, and he’s not cheating on you. At least, you don't think so, until your roommate plants the seeds of doubt in your head. While sneakily trying to find out the truth for yourself, being in the wrong place at the wrong time lands you as suspect number one in the Ghostface killings at Windsor College.

Note: Gender neutral (mildly fem-coded) reader, but no other descriptions are used. I think Mickey was a fun Ghostface, and I’m a sucker for Timothy Olyphant, so this is the result. I rewatched Scream 2 recently but obviously took creative liberties with some things. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Descriptions of violence, paranoia, and emotional manipulation. Do not interact if you're under 18.

You stared at the blinking cursor on the library computer screen, silently cursing yourself for letting procrastination get the better of you. As much as you loved going to Windsor College, you were beginning to suspect that declaring a Literature major would be your downfall, especially the paper you were supposed to be working on. You already knew what you were going to write about, having notes and a weird-looking outline ready to go. It had just been a matter of sitting down and actually writing the paper that was due the following week.

It didn’t help that Mickey and his friends were exceptionally good at dragging you into more ways to procrastinate a paper that could easily segue into a grad school application. Perhaps the importance of the paper impacted your attitude toward it, not wanting to face the behemoth that would determine your academic future. 

Just as you were halfway through a sentence on the second page of your paper, everything went dark.

“Mickey, c’mon,” you whined.

“Give me some credit, you’ve been hard to track down,” he said, moving his hands from over your eyes.

He pulled up a seat next to you, leaning on the stack of books piled next to the computer. 

“What’re you writing about?”

“Sexuality in 19th century gothic literature—dark corridors, bodice ripping, ghosts, rape, incest, vampires, mad women, all that fun stuff.”

He grinned, tugging on the hem of your shirt. “You had me at bodice ripping.”

“Later, lover boy,” you smiled. “I have to finish this draft before the library closes.”

He tapped on the computer screen. “Dining hall closes in about an hour. Don’t skip dinner for this paper.”

“I hate not having a kitchen,” you lamented. “It makes no sense the dining hall closes at eight when night classes go until nine and the library’s open until ten.”

He gave your shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Next year we’ll get an apartment, then you can cook at two in the morning all you want.”

You couldn’t help the adoring smile that spread across your lips. “You wanna move in together?” 

“Yeah, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.”

“Good,” he said, his smile matching yours. “Come over whenever you finish that. The roomie went home for the weekend so–”

“So I should plan to be there all weekend?”

“It’s like you can read my mind.”

You laughed. “Shut up before I change mine, jerk.”

“Look, I’ll be late getting in, I have to work on that short film for class, but I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.”

“Okay, see you later. Love you.”

“Love you too,” he said, giving you a kiss before getting up from the chair. “Don’t skip dinner.”

It wasn’t until you were six pages into your paper and your stomach rumbled that you remembered to glance at the clock in the corner of the computer. A quarter to nine. Damn. You took a chance on one of the vending machines in the library, getting a chocolate bar and a bag of chips to tide you over until you could eat a real meal. 

You made incredible progress on your paper, though. The promise of spending the weekend with your boyfriend was a good motivator to at least bullshit your way through the first draft. It was only a draft, after all, it didn’t need to be perfect. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

By the time you reached the end of page seven and had typed up your bibliography, you felt like your vision was blurring as you tried to proofread what you’d written. Rubbing your eyes, you hoped to shake off some of the screen exhaustion to at least catch any glaring typos. Finally, at about half past nine, you’d printed your paper and had packed up, heading back to your dorm to get what you needed for the weekend.

Usually when you walked around campus at night, there weren’t many people out and about. Windsor College was a sleepy liberal arts school for the most part, which you appreciated. The groups of people ambling around finally clicked when you noticed Greek letters on various t-shirts. You hadn’t been all that interested in getting involved in Greek life, turning down an offer from some of Mickey’s friends to join them at the Delta Lambda Zeta party that night. 

You weren’t surprised, however, to return to your dorm and find your roommate Kim lounging on a beanbag chair, her eyes glued to the small TV on top of her dresser.

“Hey,” she said, barely glancing at you as you walked in.

“Did you go to class today?” you asked as you set your backpack down, unzipping it so you could shove your pajamas and a change of clothes inside.

Kim finally answered when you walked past the TV to get to something in your dresser. “What? Yeah, I went to one this afternoon. I slept through the morning one.”

“Seriously? I woke you up for that before I left.”

“I fell back asleep,” she shrugged. “You going to Mickey’s?”

“Yeah. I’ll be back Sunday night, or Monday morning,” you said.

“Are you seriously bringing your books with you while you’re sucking and fucking at your boyfriend’s for the weekend?”

“First of all, gross. Second, he’s filming tonight. Might as well be productive while I wait.”

“Isn’t this like the fifth time in the past two weeks he’s been ‘filming’? Interesting how that’s happening while all the sororities are having their bullshit pledge mixers.”

“I know the air quotes around filming. I don’t wanna hear it.”

“I’m just saying!”

“Kim, he just asked me to move in together next year. I don’t think he’s cheating.”

“Maybe he’s just deflecting to keep you off the scent.”

“Of what? He’s been working on a short film that has a lot of night scenes. He even asked me to be in it, and I said no. You watch way too much daytime TV instead of actually going to class.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t come crying to me when you catch him six inches deep in an Omega Beta Zeta or whatever.”

You shook your head while shoving the last of your toiletries into your backpack. “Whatever. Bye.”

One more reason to live with Mickey the following school year, no more dealing with ridiculous roommates. Kim wasn’t that bad in comparison to the horror stories you’d heard about other people’s roommates, but she always had a knack for making an ass of herself. 

As you walked across campus to Mickey’s dorm, you tried to shake Kim’s implications from your mind. Mickey wasn’t cheating on you. You trusted him, and the two of you had so many mutual friends all over campus that if he were, someone would have told you by now. Despite your attempts to reassure yourself, you found your mind racing, and you became the type of partner you swore you’d never become.

If you happened to divert your walk to his dorm to go past where he was supposedly filming, he couldn’t blame you for the coincidence. The clear, beautiful night was perfect for frat parties and leisurely walks in the moonlight. You passed by a few of your friends from your major, stopping to talk with them for a little bit before continuing on your way.

It seemed like in the fifteen minutes or so you’d spent walking around, you saw less and less people. Mickey said he’d been filming near the sorority houses, but you didn’t see him around. Your heart sank to your stomach. Could Kim have been right? No. You wouldn’t jump to that conclusion so quickly. Instead, you kept walking, hoping to find him a little farther up.

In the distance, you could see a girl standing on the front porch of one of the sorority houses, phone in her hand as she looked around frantically. Weird. She retreated inside, and against your better judgment, you decided to get a closer look of what was going on.

You noticed a gleam of silver out of the corner of your eye and stopped in your tracks upon seeing a black-robed figure with a stark white ghost mask that stood out in the darkness, stalking up the brick pathway across the grassy quad. Whoever was beneath the costume didn’t notice you, and you wanted to keep it that way, hiding behind a nearby tree as you watched him approach the Omega Beta Zeta house. 

Clamping your clammy hand over your mouth, you tried to make as little noise as possible so as to not catch Ghostface’s attention. A cold chill raced across your skin. Someone was about to die. There wasn’t enough time to run to a phone and call the police or campus security. It’d take at least ten minutes for either to arrive, and then, it’d be too late. For a moment, you considered running after him, but quickly realized that without a weapon, it wouldn’t do any good. 

You watched helplessly as the masked killer slipped into the open door of the sorority house. Just a few moments later, the door shut as a girl left for you assumed one of the parties that night, but it wasn't the same girl you'd just seen outside. Unsure of what to do, you waited, but it didn't take long for a faint yell to tear through the silence of the night.

Fear froze your limbs, keeping you in place as you heard the terrified screams coming from inside the house. Your heart racing, you swore you were going to pass out until you saw the balcony doors swing open, a girl tumbling onto it, followed closely behind by Ghostface. As soon as the knife pierced her, your body finally went into panic mode, and you started running. 

More screaming and a loud crash came from behind you. Looking back, you saw the splintered balcony and a body splayed on the ground below. Ghostface slipped out from the front door, and seemed to be heading in the same direction you were sprinting off too. Oh shit, had he seen you? Was he following you? 

Tears clouded your vision as you ran, and your shoe caught on a loose brick in the walkway, sending you to the ground. The contents of your backpack crashed and rattled against each other on the impact, and you groaned at your skinned wrists. Still, you pushed yourself off the ground with determination, not bothering to look behind you and see if Ghostface had noticed your fall or was now tailing you.

Slamming the door to Mickey’s room shut, you threw your backpack aside and immediately climbed into his bed, pulling the covers over your head, as if that would shield you from Ghostface. What the fuck was taking Mickey so long? Your breath caught in your throat. He probably had no idea Ghostface was running wild across campus. Burying your face in his pillow, you screamed into it, releasing the pent up anxiety and frustration over not being able to do anything about the situation.

You weren’t sure when you’d fallen asleep, but the sun had already risen when you were woken up by the phone. Shoving the covers off of you, you hastily picked up, almost expecting to hear Ghostface’s unsettling voice on the other end of the line.

“Hello?”

Relief swept over you when you heard Mickey’s voice instead of the one you were dreading. “Hey baby, it’s me—“

“Where are you? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m at the police station. Everything’s—well, everything’s not fine. I am, though. I’ll explain later. Have you been in my room all night?”

You hesitated before answering with a weak, “Yeah.”

The other end of the line was silent for a moment. “Alright, I’m leaving now. I should be there in like, 15 minutes.”

“Okay, see you soon. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

The other end of the line went dead. You looked at your discarded backpack on the floor, and decided to at least freshen up and change out of yesterday’s clothes before Mickey returned. Each article of clothing that fell to the floor felt like evidence piling up. You hadn’t technically done anything wrong, but the previous night's events, your complacency, made your limbs feel abnormally heavy as you changed into fresh clothes. Before you knew it, you were face to face with your boyfriend, who looked almost shocked when he saw you.

“What happened to you? Your wrists–” He gently tilted your head up, inspecting your chin. “You’re all scraped up.”

“I tripped and fell,” you said.

“You’re sure that’s all that happened?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You know Cici Cooper, from my film studies class?”

You nodded. You knew Cici. You also knew she was an Omega Beta Zeta. 

“Some Ghostface wannabe stabbed her and pushed her off the balcony of the Omega Beta Zeta house, and then showed up at the Delta Lambda Zeta party.”

“Cici’s dead?”

You sat on the edge of his bed, your head in your hands as you let out a pained whine.

“Baby, what’s going on?” he asked, putting his arm around you as he sat by your side.

“I saw him.”

“Saw who?”

“I saw Ghostface. I saw him run into the Omega Beta Zeta house, but when I heard screaming I–I got so scared I just came back here. That’s when I fell.”

“Y/N, why didn’t you call the police?”

“I was terrified, Mickey! I wasn’t thinking straight and I—if I call now they’re gonna think I had something to do with it. Isn’t that what Randy says? Everyone’s a suspect! Oh my god, they’ll think it was me.”

“No one will think that.”

His paltry reassurance was no match for your word vomit, because before you could help it, you blurted out, “Are you cheating on me?”

“What? No! Why would you even think that?”

“Why did the police question you if you were shooting your movie?”

He sighed. “Derek was running late to the Delta party. He asked me to stop in and check on Sidney. I was at the party for maybe ten minutes before the police found Cici’s body. After Ghostface showed up, they questioned everyone who even looked at the place that night.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Kim—“

“Is about to be on academic probation because she watches soap operas instead of going to class.”

“Yeah. Maybe I should go ahead and call the police, let them know what I saw.”

“No, like you said before, with the timing and everyone being on edge, I don’t think it’d be a great look right now.”

“So what do I do?”

“Let’s just keep this between us, okay? No more secrets unless it’s with each other.”

“Okay,” you agreed. 

He took your hand, turning it over to look at the damage to it. “Jesus, are you sure you’re alright?”

“I should probably go to the student health center, huh?”

“I’ll walk you.”

“You probably haven’t slept. I’ll be fine.”

“Just let me do this. I don’t want you to be alone right now.”

You smiled, giving him a kiss that he quickly escalated, laying you back on his bed. Making out with Mickey was nice, it was normal. For a few minutes, you let yourself forget about Ghostface as you parted your lips for him, letting him slip his tongue inside your mouth. When his hands gripped your wrists to pin you to the bed, however, you hissed in pain, and he quickly released them.

“Sorry, sorry. I forgot,” he whispered, pressing apologetic kisses to your lips. “We should get going.”

Reluctantly, you agreed, remembering that his roommate wouldn’t be back any time soon, and you had the rest of the weekend to yourselves after you went to the health center, and got something to eat, too, since you were thinking about it.

Mickey kept his arm securely around you as the two of you made your way across campus. You spotted Sidney, Randy, and Hallie speaking among themselves at one of the tables outside, and Mickey made a bit of a detour to go talk to them. You couldn’t exactly read their expressions when they saw you until Randy spoke up.

“You sure missed a lot last night. Convenient,” he said, not bothering to hide his accusatory tone.

“Cut it out. I already told you guys they were working on a paper,” Mickey said, holding you closer to his side. “You can check the computer logs in the library.”

“Wh-What happened to your arms?” Sidney asked, her eyes fixed on your scraped wrists. For a split second, you thought it was out of concern, but then quickly realized the suspicion in her voice.

“Look, I’m really sorry about what happened, but I don’t know anything,” you said. “After I finished my paper, I went back to my dorm and then I tripped and fell on the way to Mickey’s. There were plenty of people who saw me last night.”

Hallie gave you a tense smile. “It’s okay, Y/N.”

“Yeah, I’m taking them to the student health center so nothing gets infected. We’ll see you guys later,” Mickey said.

The varying looks of distrust on the group's faces made you want to cry. As you and Mickey resumed your walk to the dining hall, your brain worked overtime to come up with worst case scenarios, as if somehow the Ghostface killings could be pinned onto you, even the ones in town despite you being with your friends during that whole incident.

“They all think it’s me.”

Mickey’s silence was more than enough of an answer to make you panic.

Stopping in your tracks, you grabbed his arm. “You don’t think it’s me, do you?” 

“I know it’s not you,” he said, his voice soft and reassuring. “They’re just on edge after what happened last night, especially after Derek went back into the Delta Lambda Zeta house after Sidney saw Ghostface—“

“Oh my god, is he okay?”

Mickey shrugged. “He got cut, but not fatally. Not the best look on his part.”

“What? No way, Derek would never—Seriously?”

“C’mon, Y/N, why would he go back in there?”

“So what, since he happened to get cut and I happened to trip, now they’re all thinking Derek and I have been secretly scheming to chop everyone up? Where is he? Maybe I can talk to him and—“

“Why don’t we just get to the health center before you run across campus to find the other top suspect in this whole thing.”

“Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”

He nodded. “I’ll drop it. I’m sorry, baby.”

The rest of the walk to the student health center was silent, though Mickey kept his arm wrapped around you. 

“If you don’t have anyone else, you know you have me,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I know,” you said, though you didn’t exactly believe yourself.

[intimacyequalsdeath]

Bubz's Slasher Fictober Day 14: Mark Hoffman (Pumpkin Spice)

My loves here we are! Day 14! Two whole weeks into Fictober! I hope you've not only enjoyed all the fics especially this smutty week but I also hope you've been enjoying October!

This man makes me absolutely feral so where as this isn't self insert at all this fic is also very much so a gift to myself from myself.

Notes: Minors DNI, Nsfw, Smut, porn with plot. No pronouns used and no description of the reader used either. Age gap and all that good stuff. Mark Hoffman gets called daddy and calls himself daddy in this. Like i said this is literally a present to myself.

"Baby, baby, baby, what did I tell you were the rules before I left this morning?" Mark tsked at you, placing his hand on your throat while looking down at you from his place standing next to the bed.

"Speak my love, use your words" He commanded when you didn't answer him.

"Y-you said I wasn't allowed to touch myself" You said peering up at him through your eyelashes. Mark smiled an almost evil grin.

"And what did you happen to do while I was at work?" He asked in a condescending tone.

You gulped trying to swallow the lump in your throat before answering him.

"I-I touched myself" You whispered, looking down at your hands. Mark put a hand under your chin and brought your head up to meet his eyes.

"What was that?" He asked again.

"I touched myself" You said louder, Immediately flinching as Mark's gaze on you hardened.

"Now my love, please would you care to tell me why you touched yourself when I specifically told you not to?" He sat down on the side of the bed with his hand still under your chin, his other hand coming up to move your hair out of your face as you kept eye contact with him.

"Because I had too Mark" you pleaded, You could tell you peaked his interest with this.

"Why did you have to darling?"

"Because you left me high and dry this morning like a dick!" You said suddenly getting mad remembering how Mark had pushed your hands off him telling you he didn't have time for sleepy morning sex and that he had to get down to the station to continue work on the jigsaw case.

Mark's hand flew up to your throat, squeezing as if reminding you what he could do if you weren't careful.

"I'd watch that fuckin' mouth of yours" He warned "You're already in hot water as it is baby" Your hands grabbed Mark's much larger one that was wrapped around your neck.

"Now if you really are that pissed at me for leaving you this morning I guess maybe I should make it up to my Baby huh?" You nodded at his question. "Use your words or you get nothing" He reminded.

'Yes, Daddy"

"Mmm That's a good baby" He removed the hand from your neck once more to run it down the side of your neck, his fingers tracing the outlines of the last love bites he had left there before the two of you had to attend a ball at the precinct.

"Have to make sure everyone knows to keep their eyes up here" He had told you as he sucked your neck as you finished doing your hair for the night.

As his hands trailed down your body he tugged on the back of your thighs to get you to lie down, He removed his shirt and stood up for a second to remove his pants keeping his boxers on for the time being before moving over to you.

You had already removed your clothing when you thought you would be safe to masturbate without Mark knowing. The only thing between Mark and your entirely naked body was your underwear you had tugged back up your legs when you realized your boyfriend had arrived back home.

Hoffman made quick work of them though, ripping them from your body and tossing the fabric onto the floor.

You had been with the officer for going on 4 years, You had met when he was assigned to your jigsaw case in particular. You had been very unlucky in becoming one of the Killers targets but was one of the lucky few to actually escape.

When you went to the police about it Hoffman was assigned to you almost as soon as you stepped through the doors of the station. Since then the two of you have been inseparable. He found you when you were at your weakest and swore he would take care of you and four years later he was still living up to that promise.

You had breathed life into the officer. Opening up parts of him even he didn't think he was capable of. I mean sure he was still knee deep in making jigsaw traps and had even selected you specifically cause he needed you to be his, but you didn't need to know that at least not yet.

Mark used his finger to caress your cheek gently as you laid underneath him in your shared bed.

"That's my doll huh?" He asked you softly, You nodded finally cracking a smile at him. He returned your smile before finally thrusting into you. You gasped at the new contact of him inside you as he wrapped a hand in your hair bringing your face to his neck as he held you.

"it's ok, this is what daddy's baby has wanted all day so this is what his baby gets" He said shushing you.

You whined as your wrapped your arms around Mark's shoulders.

"Daddy please" Mark was going painstakingly slow, as if almost teasing you as punishment for touching yourself. He chuckled at your whine.

"Aw does my baby want me to go faster?" He rasped in your ear.

You nodded into his neck, groaning as you felt him finally push fully into you. You felt as his balls rub against your bottom half as he held still for a minute.

Tired of waiting you tried to buck up into Mark from underneath him. This caused him to slightly pull out of you and look into your eyes.

"Excuse me doll? You think this is on your terms ? after what you did today?" He reprimanded you.

"Mark please! You can't do this to me" You begged him again "I'm sorry I touched myself I won't do it again besides you said you were gonna make it up to me for this morning"

"I am baby, but I can't just let you get away with touching what belongs to me, What's between your legs does not belong to you ok? It belongs to me, I'm the only one who's allowed to touch it and I sure as shit am the only one who's allowed to fuck it" He growled out pushing himself back into you as hard as he could and starting to roughly thrust.

He set a steady but hard pace and he pulled out and snapped his hips back up to yours. Tears sprung up at the corner of your eyes at the intensity in which he fucked you.

"Oh come on don't cry on me. Isn't this what you wanted?" Mark taunted from above you. His hands now gripping the sheets on either side of your head as he held himself above you.

Your eyes fell shut as you felt the tip of his cock hit against your sweet spot, brining you closer and closer to your climax. Mark brought a hand up to tap you cheek and make you open your eyes.

"Nah baby you look at me when you cum alright?" He said, eyes meeting yours.

You pushed your noses together, eyes never closing again as you felt your climax creep up in the pit of your stomach as your walls clenched around Mark's cock as it painted your walls with white. You were still seeing stars as he pulled out and collapsed next to you on the bed.

You placed your head on his chest and he brought a hand to it to caress your sweaty forehead as his lips kissed it. He used the other to bring the blanket up around the both of you before wrapping the other arm around you to hold you to him.

"You alright baby? It wasn't too much was it?" There was your Mark. A giver and taker in every sense but always with your wellbeing in mind no matter how rough he could get. You nodded.

"Yes daddy I'm fine" You told his softly, clearing starting to fall asleep as you felt his seed leak out of you. You loved that feeling.

"Mmm daddy's good baby"

"I love you daddy"

"I love you too baby, Daddy loves you more then anything"

[fire-emblem-drabbles]

Pairing: Karlach x durge reader, Gortash x durge reader

Prompt: Some thoughts I had when I brought my dark urge and romanced Karlach to face Gortash.

Description: Having just survived a divine revelation from daddy dearest Bhaal and making your way to Wyrm's Rock, you're a little shaken but ready to face whatever Gortash may throw at you. You wanted to see Karlach have her revenge as sure as it was your own. Yet... something familiar and strange stirs within your blackened heart when you look at Gortash. And most frighteningly, he looks to you the same.

Rating: sfw

Word Count: 2678 3037

Notes: Happy 4:30 am I got off work and like a man possessed wrote this. It's not edited (yet) but if I don't post this and get validation I may just fucking die so. Have this terrible little brain baby! I just think it would be so tastey. No one wins here btw!

oh this is huge spoilers for dark urge/act 3 btw! I took some liberties but it's my fanfiction and I can if I want to

Edited: 10/1/23 (read it and there was a lot of mistakes lol)

Curiosity has guided you far, in this adventure. It’s helped you find the pieces of your past life, both those that proved to be a boon and that which you would have rather left buried. You’ve repressed your dark urges, fought them, proved to yourself and your allies, and especially your lover, that you’re better than that. Better than the person you once were. Better than what your father would have you be.

And it’s never been more clear than when you stand before Gortash now. You can feel Karlach before you, bristling at seeing his face. The way Wyll panics at seeing his father, obviously not himself. Gale, too, is is all wound up-- the emotions held in this room are fit to burst, and you and Gortash are the center of it.

You felt a flicker of it before, when seeing his face in the Ilithid colony beneath Moonrise. There was familiarity there; not the burning hatred that seized your heart when you looked at Orin, nor the cool indifference you felt upon taking Kethric’s life but something far different. The closet thing to normal you felt from your previous life. It scared you more than the murder, than the blood on your hands and the bile burning the back of your tongue.

He felt like home. A feeling you thought only Karlach could bring about you, of calm and happiness acceptance and all things nice and lovely that father would surely disapprove of. And when he speaks, when his disgusting honeyed voice and hardened gazes softens upon landing to you, when “My favorite assassin,” leaves his silvered tongue, you can see whispers of the past before you.

A part of it, mind, you might have preferred to keep lost. It comes in flashes and fuzzy moments, in warm feelings and beating heart. Your hand, held in his; your lips lost together. Bodies tangled and thoughts lost... You linger in those memories a moment, remembering how right it all felt. And thinking, how funny, even back then you were pulling away from father's puppet strings.

As you come back to the present, you're left stunned silent a moment, as his words flow in one ear and out of the other. This is Gortash-- the man who sold Karlach to the Arch Devil Zariel, who abducted Wyll’s father and whose manipulating the cult of the absolute and all the people of Baldur’s gate all at once-- and he’s the man who helped you learn what love is.

It's also so sickeningly familiar, the way your heartbeat picks up upon meeting his gaze. How he reserves an easy smile just for you, even if you’ve seen it hundreds of times. You have to close your eyes, to reach out and take Karlach’s hand despite how hot she’s grown. It's almost too much for you, to remember how happy you were with Gortash when you've been fighting for so long to find a way to keep being happy with Karlach.

“Solider?” Even through her own anger, her own disgust and sorrow and rage and madness, Karlach pauses, (your whole party does, in fact) in seeing the familiarity between the two of you. Seeing the effect Gortash has on you, their dauntless leader, their dear friend. If only they knew who they were calling their ally now...

“Holy shit,” Is all you can manage out in the moment. So many thoughts, little forgotten memories blink past your eyes. Karlach squeezes your hand, and you squeeze back just to let her know you’re still there.

“I didn’t think I’d have quite that strong of an effect on you,” he chuckles and you hate how you can tell it’s from genuine affection, and not twisted glee. He truly is glad to see you-- and why shouldn’t he be? It can't have been that long ago that the two of you were lovers.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” You have to steel yourself in front of him, in front of your friends. But how can you deny it? Things have always been this way between the two of you. Delicate and strange and so wrong as to feel right.

“It’s nice to see you haven’t changed.” That charming smile, turned business as he turns to face your party whole. “I was worried, after Orin did you in. But I should have known you would return, find your way back to me.” He’s all confidence as he speaks, and you notice its mostly to you. It’s almost as if the room isn’t filled with courtesans, as if your party isn’t there to back you up. Like you aren’t clutching to Karlach like a lifeline.

“You’ll… have to fill in the finer details.” You admit softly, frown fitting your face. “I’ve reclaimed bits and pieces of my former memory but I’m afraid much of my former…” You hesitate as you consider who you were before all this “...life is beyond me.” You decide to remain as passe as possible. But perhaps he already knows you remember. Actually, your certain he does-- there’s a look of mischief twinkling in his eyes that surely only you can see. But cruelty is in his nature, as begets the chosen of Bane. You’re lucky, then, that for you, and only you, his urge can be diminished into something a little more charming.

“Why, without you this cult would be nothing! Well, without us.” He laughs again and you can feel your companions eyes upon you. “You and I came up with this whole plan-- to steal the crown of Karsus, overpower the elder brain, and use its powers to create a loyal army of cultists… if Orin hadn’t overthrown you, things wouldn’t be near a mess as they are now.” He rolls his eyes dramatically, a sigh fitting past his lips. “That sister of yours is quite the handful, and far less careful about controlling her urges. Why, with you back, and with Kethric’s nether stone no less, I dare say we have a chance to get things back in line again.”

“_____, what is he talking about? Why is he talking like he knows you?” Karlach’s voice tears through your thoughts, just as you feel her warm hand leave yours, and your party's gaze all land on you.

“Oh Karlach, dear sweet Karlach…” Gortash speaks again. “Are you certain you want to hear that?” Your breath hitches as he speaks. You were hoping Gortash would have more decorum than to admit what the two of you once hand. Perhaps its obvious to him how you feel about Karlach now. Maybe you looked at him the same way, once; maybe you are now.

Perhaps then, it's jealously that causes him to speak. You can't imagine how he must feel, seeing someone he got rid of so long ago stroll up with the person he thought was taken from him. Yes, now that you think about it, that would make him quite mad...

“You shut the fuck up, Gortash!” Karlach raises her voice before you even think to speak; Gortash merely smirks, speaks again with mockery lacing his tone.

“Indeed, _____, why don’t you enlighten your friends, your lover, about your past self?” Your name spoken from his lips was so, so nice. It made you ache in a sickeningly familiar way. And so too, was the venom in his when he spoke of your lover. Of Karlach…

“They know,” You manage to croak out. “With the tadpole they saw… saw the vision my father sent to me.” One that you had gotten hardly an hour before coming here, even. That you were a Bhaalspawn, of your dearest fathers own flesh. That you were his chosen before Orin struck you down. You knew that wasn't what he met. You were desperate to hide this-- like when your urge first overcame you, when that poor girl Alfira's blood stained your hands and camp...

“Then surely, you remember, about us?” Daring as ever, Gortash moves forward, to cup your chin tenderly with his gauntlet that held his nether stone.

How easy it would be, to twist the arm that dared hold you, to rip that precious nether stone from the sorry hand that dared touch your hallowed flesh.

“Us? What is he talking about?” You could hear the desperation in Karlach’s tone, even if you couldn’t see her. Your eyes were locked with Gortash’s, lost in them really. “_____, why are you letting him touch you?” Even from here, you could feel her heat. She was angry, so angry that he dare touch you. But scared, too. Scared that you weren't even trying to stop him.

You tear away from Gortash’s intense gaze, gently remove his hand from your person and ignore your urge. And so to, ignore the urge to reach out for Gortash in return. So many parts of yourself you have to deny, it was getting hard to know what’s really you…

“Fine. Fine!” You raise your own voice, uncaring of the puppets in the room. You turn to Karlach, to the only reason you’ve gotten this far. “You deserve to know anyways.” Still, you heave a sigh, for what is a heavier burden than the truth? “Yes, before Orin betrayed me, I was the chosen of Bhaal. But beyond that…” Even still, as the truth lingers on your lips, tingles on the tip of your tongue, you hesitate as you meet Karlach’s gaze-- as you filter to Gale and Wyll as well.

Your breath dies a moment as you see how worried they are for you. You’re scarcely worth such kindness, moreso from such good people as them. “Gortash and I were… close. Far closer than any plan may have merited. One might have even called it love, if you believe such evil capable of it.” You admit, looking to the floor. You wouldn’t be able to take the look of betrayal in their faces, nor the grin Gortash surely wore.

“I…” You can feel the way the anger leaves Karlach. Even if she didn’t want to show it you can feel through that dammed tadpole how numb she suddenly feels. “Right. You guys finish” She gestures vaguely to you, to Gortash “whatever the hell this is. I gotta go.” You don’t even have the heart to stop her. Don’t have the courage to watch her retreating form.

“Karlach, hold on!” Gale is quick to follow. You’d have to thank him for that. For doing what you should be doing. You can feel Wyll’s hesitation. But he stays. You’d have to thank him too. You don’t want to be alone (as much as the word means in a room fool of likely tadpoled individuals like yourself) with Gortash right now. Even if Wyll is just staying for his own father.

“There she goes.” Gortash is brazen now, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you in to his chest. You don’t know if it’s right to be this close to him, to hug him like you so desperately want to. “I do miss our time together. We could be still be together, work together. It would be my honor to restore you to your former glory-- to help you regain your title as Bhaal’s chosen once more.” The idea fills you with twisted glee. You recall, with errie smile, how Gortash was once wrapped around your little finger. How easy it could be to twist him to your designs, and kill him when it suited you most. How it would please father, how it would only make you stronger, to get such a distraction out of your life.

“That’s not who I am anymore.” You say with much force, creating some distance between you and Gortash. You're not sure if its about the two of you being together, or you being Bhaal's chosen. Still, he does not falter. He gets down on one knee before you, looking up at you with adoration. You hate it. You love it. It’s disgusting and beautiful and you know this isn’t the first time he’s been on his knees for you. Play your cards right, it may not even be his last.

“Even so, I can see how much your heart cries out for revenge. You mean to kill Orin, and as it happens I want her dead as well.” Again, beautiful hands, coveted nether stone, circle around your own. “We could rule together. Even your little… friends.” This was your plan, after all. Your genius that got this terrible cult going.

“Just what are you proposing?” You can’t help but squeeze his hands. Can’t deny the beat of your heart-- for the evil within must hear this promise of power. Coming from a man you may even still hold dear a part so strong it can't look away.

“We reforge our alliance. Bring our empire to fruition. My steel watch won’t harm you, so long as you kill Orin and bring her nether stone back.”

“_____…” Wyll’s voice surprises you. For a moment, it really was you and Gortash, and the empire you stood to create. “I know this must be a hard decision for you. Gortash seems to know you better than you do yourself this moment. But we need to consider all our options.” He reminds you. Pushing you towards neither extremes at this moment. A level head when yours was, as always, a shambling mess. "Remember how far we've come. How far you've come."

“That’s not a decision I can make right now.” You admit, hastily pulling away from Gortash. His face falters a little as he rises to his feet. “There’s a lot I need to consider.” When he stands tall again, looking to you, that familiar cocky grin is again in place.

“I understand. You always make the right choice in the end. But, just to prove my loyalty,” That word stings just a little. You hadn’t proved loyal to most anyone who trusted you, at least in this particular moment. “I’ll share this with you; an impostor is at your camp, right now.” You frown again as you look to him.

“Orin…” You grit your teeth as you consider your sister, how any one of the people you had come to trust with your life could be the backstabber herself.

“So if I were you, I’d act quick.” He smiles at you but you see how it doesn’t meet his eyes. “So, my dear, why don’t you stay for my coronation?” He laughs softly as he turns towards Duke Ravengard, who seems more statue than man at this moment.

You do just that, watch with wary gaze and heavy heart as Enver Gortash is ordained ‘Archduke Gortash’. Many tough decisions lie ahead of you and you couldn’t will yourself to think on a single one of them as you watched Gortash rise with a new fervor. He seeks your gaze, your approval, as the room erupts with applause. But it’s high time you left, to figure out what to do next.

You climb down the barren halls of Wyrm’s Rock with Wyll, unsure what to say or do next. You feel like you’ve had enough adventure and learning of your old life for once day, but of course Gortash gave you fear to return to your own camp as well…

“Are you alright?” Wyll stops you as you slowly walk towards the south span of Wyrm’s rock, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. You jump at his touch, only to sigh and relax when you realize it's just him.

“No not really, that was a lot for me.” You admit with a shaky laugh.

“I… were you truly involved with Gortash before… well, before?” He frowns, the look on his face hard to read.

“I… yes. I was.” It would be no use to lie.

“And now?” He asks, unexpectedly. “What now?”

“What now indeed.” You sigh and lean into him. Wyll supports your weight with a good natured hug. “I love Karlach, Wyll. I love her so much. But… old feelings linger in my twisted mind. Gortash was…” You shake your head. How can you explain that who you were, who you use to be… Gortash was the only person that you respected? That seemed to understand you, to meet you at your level? Even now as you thought of it, more cursed thoughts of your time together came back to you. It hurt, mentally and physically.

“I can’t say I understand, friend, but I know yours is a troubled past.” He pulls back from you, smile fitting his handsome face. “I think it would be best for us to head back to camp for the day.” He guides you that way, and you decide to follow his judgment.

“I just… hope that Karlach is okay. Had I known, I…” You shake your head. How could you have known? In a past life, you were lovers with the very man that ruined her life. The man that made it difficult for you two to even start a relationship to begin with.

“Rest, friend. You can’t of helped that.” You nod. He was right. But that still left you in the middle of some ridiculous love triangle…

You just have to decide, dearest, darkest urge, who is most important to you; Enver Gortash, Bane’s Chosen, tyrant of Baldur’s Gate and the matching mind to your own criminal plot to rule it all… or Karlach Cliffgate, the woman he ruined in the pursuit of his own power, and the one you promised to help end him.

Either way, there would be betrayal. Heartbreak. And fighting, for sure.

You could, of course, kill them both. That would solve so many problems for you! Feed your urge, please your father, and remove any obstacle that would distract from your goal. Wouldn’t it be delicious, to drink in their desire, thinking they’ve won your favor-- only for you to break that precious trust as their bodies twist under your blade…

This all of course assuming you could fight off your dark urge still... Rest would not come easy tonight, if at all. But it wouldn't be the first time. Come what may, you would forge your path forward.

[yuzu-all-the-way]

FaOI 2023 Makuhari Day 1 - Impressions

The first show day of Fantasy on Ice 2023 has come to an end. Besides me having a terrible headache throughout most of the day, it was a pretty good start to the A tour - chaotic, scary and... dangerous (from multiple points of view).

Within the first hour of the show*, there was nothing - no photos from the media, no reports from the audience in the venue, no news reporting on anything... just us, international Fanyus, camping on Twitter, waiting for someone to say something. Personally, I used that time to close my eyes and try to make the headache go away (yeah, no such luck).

Then the breaktime came and Japanese people were reporting left and right about Yuzu doing something in the OP, but no one knew quiet exactly what - apparently the usual FaOI choreo changed a bit because the number of skaters is less, so Yuzu blended in with the skaters before his name was called out - the trademark 4T happened, although wobbly. Not that it matters.

At this point, it's not really relevant what HAPPENED in the OP, but what was shown. Arms, bare arms, but those were sort of overshadowed by the 'interesting' design of the OP costume. I'm not going to judge it too hard because I haven't seen it in motion yet, so I'll have to wait for Sunday for that.

After the flood of reports (translation thread of Japanese live reports), there was a pause and then... way before the show should've ended, more reports started flooding. This time not about the show itself, but about the earthquake that happened. A 6.2 magnitude earthquake with the epicenter in Chiba happened while the show was in full swing and, for safety reasons, the performances were suspended for a while. The staff made sure the audience was seated and not panicking, confirmation of no tsunami danger came, and the staff ran a safety check of the venue. The earthquake was bad enough for the rods holding the lights to shake, so it was extremely important to make sure everything was in order and properly fixed.

Maybe 15 minutes later, the show resumed. And then came the anxiety because we just knew Yuzu was close if not already performing his new program. And since we knew that the opening 4T was messed up, we also thought that a mad combo must happen at the end. It just had to.

Once the show ended (and my headache was still as strong as ever), more reports started coming in - and Yuzu's program turned out to be a performance to IF by DA PUMP. The costume was still a mystery, though, the best description being something like "white open jacket, black and white sleeves, vest, chains". It obviously sounded like a very cool J-rock outfit. And boy, oh boy, THAT did not disappoint.

As for the finale, I really don't remember anything about it from the reports because the costume got my entire attention. What I can remember is that no report came about any unhinged jump combination done by Yuzu.

This was supposed to be me reflecting on what I've learnt about the show, not summarizing it, but it is what it is. So about the actual impressions:

-> FaOI's costume designer for sure has a knack of finding ways to make the most questionable costumes look decent if not good on Yuzu. Seriously, though, what's the point of tops at this point, since they barely hold any material?

-> there isn't FaOI Makuhari if an earthquake doesn't happen (2019, 2022 specifically). I sure was scared to learn about the earthquake. The people in the venue were shaken, and I can only imagine what Yuzu and the skaters must've felt. Once the danger had passed, I'm sure they gave their 100% in the finale to conclude the show on a high note

-> I'm not fond of the music for Yuzu's program, but I wasn't fond of Real Face and Raison either, but they grew on me (especially Raison), so it might happen again this year, too

-> camping on twitter is nerve-wracking, there's no news then there's too many news in an unknown language, and the automatic translation sometimes messes up so bad you can't tell anything but "Yuzu, teeth, stomach" - I still have no clue what that meant

-> but the gratification comes in the flood of photos from the media and saving AS MANY AS POSSIBLE without saving doubles (or triple, quadruple, quintuple copies)... I think I made a decent job

I don't really have a platform where I could share all the photos I've saved (they are quite a lot), but I posted some OP, EX, and Finale photos as a way of 'summarizing' the show through them

*The photos were released about 1h after the show, though

[ultralightpoe]

Rain - Stephen Strange

Description: Stephen hates rain, and he also hates fighting with you

Warnings: curses, a little angst, Stephen being defensive as usual

Authors Note: Thank you so much for requesting this! I absolutely love getting requests so if you have any feel free to send them in! This request did say her so I went with a female but I can also write for others as well. Requests are open, I hope every one is doing well! ENJOY!!

Word Count:2,001

MAIN Master List - - Marvel Master List

       Thunderstruck nearby, the sound loud and crashing as the rain poured down. But nothing could stop the sound of Stephen Strange’s fist cracking against Loki Laufeysons cheek. 

           The god had taken many hits in life, and he was sure with Stephen's hand injuries that it wouldn’t hurt as bad but damn the sorcerer could swing when necessary. 

         The god hit the mud beneath them, sliding a bit as he grabbed his chin. Stephen stood over him, panting heavily as the rain began weighing his clothes down. His gaze was practically murderous, and the other avengers knew not to get involved, Tony however would admit to filming through Jarvis. 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU LOST MY WIFE?!”

         There was a time in his life when Stephen loved the rain. He loved the smell it left on the earth after a storm, or the way the mud would gather on his shoes and he would be able to track it through the house until Beverly Strange would catch him. 

        That all changed the night of his accident, when the rain was too slick and he was too arrogant.  He lost control that night, he lost control over his entire life. 

         From that day on Stephen Strange decided he hated rain, especially today. 

         He had known not to split up, had seen enough horror movies in his life to know that once the team split up it was game over, but you were still mad at him from last night and he understood that. So, when you said, “I’ll be with someone else for this mission.”, he wanted to argue but let you choose. 

        He remembered all the things said last night, choosing to rethink that moment instead of paying attention to anything Tony was saying.

         It had been a long stressful night for both, and Stephen was already on edge. You had wanted to go get out of the sanctum for a bit, which was fine with him, so you did. 

        You made your way to some small diner 3 blocks from the sanctum since you no longer had a car, in your defense it wasn’t supposed to rain, and when the hostess asked you if you wanted a patio table since that was all they had open Stephen said yes. 

         It had been silent, both of you fighting off a rising aggravation. Stephen’s hands were aching and tired from the day in the Sanctum, working on a new spell, and he knew you would be mad if you knew he had pushed himself too far.

       But you were no fool, seeing him discreetly rubbing the knots forming, while waiting for the food to arrive. But you kept silent, because even if you were worried and agitated you didn’t want to ruin the day. 

         When the food arrived, you snuck a bite of his food just as he did yours, sharing a sweet smile until Stephen gasped in pain, dropping the sandwich back onto the plate. “Shit-”

        “Stephen, let me see.” You rush out, grabbing his hand to see. “Why do you always have to-”

        “Y/n. Don’t.” He snaps, snatching his hand back in embarrassment. “You always do this-”

       “Of course, I always do this, Stephen. Magic or no magic-”

         “Don’t be such a-” He catches himself there, but he didn’t marry an idiot and you had already figured it out. 

          “Such a what? C’mon Stephen. Say it.” You snapped, packing up your food into the box and leaving money on the table.

         “Y/n. Come on.” He groans, trying to quickly pack up his own food. “I wasn’t going to say it. You know I wasn’t going to say-”

         “You thought it and it was enough for me. And I will not apologize for being worried when my husband doesn’t understand what limits are.” You climb over the gate of the patio pretty easily, trying to get away from Stephen before he could annoy you anymore. 

         “You knew who I was when you married me! So don’t start with that!” 

          Then the rain hit. Sunny second before turning to a heavy shower, drenching you in seconds. “Oh come on!”

         “Y/n come here, I have jacket space.” Stephen rushes out, pulling his hood up, moving forward to grab you. You rush back, slipping on the curb a bit. “No. I am mad at you.” 

       “You’re mad at me? So mad you would rather get drenched than be near me?” He laughs, face falling when he realizes the laugh was a bad idea. 

        “DON’T LAUGH AT ME!” You yell, throwing your food at him. “I have every right to be angry.” 

         “No! You don’t!” He snaps, dropping his own food. “I have no clue why you are even mad! You annoying busybody!”

         “Oh I’m the annoying one! You are constantly pushing yourself! Knowing that you are injured and still overdoing it!” 

        “The world needs me!”

        “THE WORLD ISN’T WORTH IT!” You scream, walking off.

        That’s where you both left it, silently walking home while cold, wet, and aggravated. When you got home Stephen used a spell to warm the place up…. Which might have been the wrong time to show off considering you rolled your eyes and slept in another room which had him worried all night. 

       Stephen was completely stressed, he hadn’t talked to you in 24 hours and didn’t sleep all night. He wanted to talk to you, but Tony called you both in on the mission and you teamed up with Loki of all people. 

      He wanted to go find you the second you split up, but the mission was important and he didn’t want to leave Tony .He did however ask Tony to keep track of your suit. (Yes Tony made fun of him, but Stephen let him this time.)

        The mission was going smoothly until the rain came on once more, then everything went to shit. The rain sped up, and it became a struggle to see. What was simply a mission to find a storm machine became a struggle to keep alive. 

         Stephen and Tony took to the air, fighting against the wind as he tried to find you in the field. 

           “Natasha, getting heavy up here. Anything you can see down there?” Tony calls, shooting at a piece of hail coming at him. 

          “Nothing we can see, Steve got stuck in a bit of mud.” Natasha stresses, “Tony how the hell are we losing to a storm?”

         “This isn’t a normal storm.” Thor booms, laughing a bit. “ Even I cannot sense the waves of this one Lady Widow. This is a man made-”

          “Thor. Eyes on Banner?” Tony asks, flying in front of Stephen and dodging a blast of lighting. “Thor, handle the lightning, it’s beginning to piss me off-”

         “What of Banner?”

          “I see him no problem-” Tony explains before Stephen cuts him off.

          “Where are Y/n and Loki?” The silence that followed was anything but calming. 

          “Shit, I don’t see them. Steve? Nat? Anything down there?” Tony asks, instantly following Stephen to land. 

          “Nothing-”

         “I lost Y/n.” Loki's voice cuts through. ”We had gotten to the machine but then a wave of power and I lost sight of her-”

          “YOU WHAT?!” Stephen bellows, the group forming together once more. Before Stephen could fully think it through, a gloved fist was flying out to meet the gods cheek. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU LOST MY WIFE?!”

        “Shit- lost the tracking of her suit. Must have been hit with lightning in the blast.” Stark stresses, looking around. “Okay, Wizard man, not the time to kill Greeny. Everyone split up, find Agent Y/n now.”

         Everyone split up instantly, rushing off to search for you. Nat kept low, dodging the mudslides while Steve tried to shield them the best he could. Banner, who was in an iron suit, did however get caught in a mudslide. 

          Thor followed the lightning and Loki nursed a swelling jaw. 

        But Stephen was using the new spell he had formed to follow you, unable to catch his breath as an anxiety attack began to form. “Where are you? Baby, where are you?”

        He would never admit that the tears and the rain began to mix until he couldn’t actually tell if he was actually crying or if the rain was hitting his face anymore.  Tearing through the mud and weather, pain shooting up his hands. 

       “Stephen! We got her!” Steve calls, the sound of Natasha gasping being heard through the comns, but Stephen was right behind them with the tracker. 

         You had been hit by lightning, and you were laying in a puddle, covered slightly from the storm by an abandoned building. Stephen shoved past Steve and Nat, not really caring how rude he was being, as he took your body in his arms. 

          “Y/n….Y/n no baby no.” He whispers, adding a little warmth to your body. 

          “Tony’s on the quinjet, we need to get her there for medical Stephen.” Natasha says softly, moving to help pick up her friend. Stephen pulled you closer out of instinct before letting the cloak of levitation move to you. The cloak seemed to hug around you, swaddling you a bit as it carried you to the jet, if it could make sounds Stephen was sure it was crying as much as he was.

            When you awoke Stephen was already lecturing, not you thank the gods, but the poor nurse in your room. The beeping of the heart monitor clued you in to the fact that you were in a hospital room, probably one in the compound. 

           “You shouldn’t turn her arm like that. Are you stupid? When checking a patient you never tug on the arm with-” 

           “Mr. Strange.” The nurse squeaks out, making eye contact with you. Poor thing probably had been stuck with my husband for a bit. “Mrs. Strange is awake.”

          Stephen has never turned around faster in his life, moving over to your side. “Are you okay? Did she hurt your-”

           “Thirsty.” You gasp out, moving to sit up. Stephen is right there, wearing a basic shirt and sweatpants, trying to help you.

          “Okay, I’ll get you water. Baby don’t overdo it, you shouldn’t be sitting up.”  You wanted to laugh at that, but your throat was far too dry. “You can go, I’ll be taking care of my wife.”

          “Stephen.” You warned , voice cracking a bit.

           “Right. Sorry. “ He sighs, turning back to the nurse. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit tense. Did not mean to be so rude.”

          She nods before scurrying out, Stephen holds you up with a hand on your back while he grabs your water. “Here darling, grab the straw.”

          It silent for a moment while you chug the water, Stephen rubbing your back and kissing your shoulder. “Thank you.”

         “Don’t thank me.” He laughs, kissing your cheek. “Now let’s lay back down. You’ve been out for 3 days and probably shouldn’t be-”

          “No, I want to sit up.” You whine, shock rolling through your system. “Three days?”

          “Yes, three days. You shouldn’t overdo it.” This time you did laugh. 

          “Stephen Strange.” You laugh. “ You should not be the one telling me to not overdo it.”

          “I should be. Just as you are the one to tell ME not to overdo it.” He blushes, swiping the sweat away from your forehead. “We’re married darling, it’s what we do.”

        “I thought that made us annoying busybodies.” You giggle, too tired to keep sitting up. Stephen notices and helps you lay back down, making sure you are comfortable before climbing into the bed with you.

       “It does make us annoying busybodies, but only because we’re right. We are supposed to worry about our spouses, because we need them alive and healthy. That’s love.” He answers, kissing your cheek once more before covering you both with the blanket. “Now sleep, I want you to rest up and get released.”

         “Do I want to know how controlling you were while I’ve been here? Dr. Strange?”

          “Being 100% honest darling? You don’t wanna know.”

[heartkyeom]

sunburn

sub wen junhui x dom fem!reader

word count: 2.7k

warnings: face fucking, sub jun, dom reader, slight angst, fluff, descriptions of female anatomy, reader is female

notes: this is for @sapphichui. that’s it lol kidding but hey it’s my first piece for jun! everyone cheered. wanted it to be worth the wait so lots of ideas were scrapped and now you have this! pls enjoy 💘

tag list: @sapphichui @bfwonu @soffrine @thetigeragenda @husbandhoshi @dokyeomblr @mangogyu

Most nights, you didn’t mind whenever Jun called you over for a quickie. You were typically bored enough that it would spice up your night, but tonight you were hoping you didn’t get the call so that you had some time to yourself.

Your legs were tucked underneath your comforter, two of your fingers were nestled deep inside your walls. You’ve definitely lost count of how many times you’ve clenched around your fingers, the snug grip seems to have a complete hold on you.

Each time you curl your fingers inward, you feel your orgasm creeping closer and closer. You know your body so well that it’s almost devastating to hear your phone vibrate when you’re so close to cumming.

You use your free hand to flip your phone over. You realize it’s him and accept his call without thinking.

“Hello?”

“Come over, I need to feel you,” His voice sounds desperate, but you’re not exactly in the mood for any of his antics.

“I'm kinda busy right now,” You reply with a slightly pained tone. Your fingers are unmoving, but you slowly start to work back toward the speed you were at before he called.

“What are you doing that you can’t come over?” The question is fairly innocent, but you’re starting to get irritated.

“I’m touching myself,” You sigh loudly, “plus you’ve had sex with me the past 3 days. You’re getting selfish.”

“Maybe I am selfish, maybe I don’t want you getting off without me,” he replies. You’re actually mad now, especially since you two were just friends. Being in a friends with benefits arrangement with Jun was actually somewhat helpful in containing your feelings for him, especially when he got weirdly jealous over you.

“If you want me so badly, come over and do something about it. Come over before I cum, I’m tired of always going to you. You’re taking advantage of it now,” You slow your fingers to pace yourself.

“You’re serious?” He sounds halfway convinced already, but you’re not just teasing him, it was annoying that he barely came over to your place.

You always had to run five blocks to his apartment, slightly sweaty when you arrived at his door. He never minded though, he just thought it made you even more attractive when you started kissing.

“Dead serious. I already stretched myself out too, so hurry up,” You hang up without letting him reply.

You were hoping he didn’t take it personally and let you boss him around. He was a fairly obedient sub when he wanted to be.

Those five blocks didn’t take nearly as long as you expected because he’s knocking on your door ten minutes later. The knocking ceases when he remembers the spare key hidden under your welcome mat.

Your bedroom door opens a few moments later and he smirks the moment he sees you.

You slip your fingers out the moment you see him, sitting up quickly.

“Come here,” You use your soaked fingers to beckon him closer to the bed. He rushes over to your side, kneeling before you even ask him to. You slip your fingers into his mouth and he sucks accordingly.

“Good boy,” you coo and retreat your hand from his mouth. You know that phrase is his kryptonite, and it doesn’t seem to get any easier for him when you stroke his cheek gently.

He already looks eager, too eager in your opinion.

“You’re not gonna cum tonight, you’re not patient enough. You’re gonna give me that orgasm you interrupted,” You lecture him.

“What do you want from me, love?” His eyes are silently pleading that you’ll ease up on him, but it’s too fun to watch him lose his composure over you.

“I’m gonna ride your face, and I don’t want to hear you talk unless spoken to. Do you understand?”

He nods silently, anticipating your next direction with a subtle reaction. It always starts like this, with him thinking he can remain neutral for the night until you’ve left his thighs shaking uncontrollably.

“Strip for me,” You look halfway uninterested as he moves to undress himself. His signature gray sweatpants and matching hoodie are soon strewn across the floor.

He wasn’t wearing any boxers which made him look even more desperate, but you can’t really complain when he looks that good.

It’s hard not to admire his stomach, arms, and especially his cock, but the ache in the pit of your stomach has yet to subside.

“Get on the bed,” You get up and point to the spot where you just sat. He quickly makes himself comfortable, his legs spread out slightly to accommodate you. He looks at you with so much lust that it drives you slightly insane.

You straddle him easily, grinding your hips down slightly on his cock to feel his reaction. He lets out a soft moan, you know he’s containing himself for you by how quiet he’s trying to be.

You don’t give him a warning before you lower yourself down onto his face and the satisfaction seems to hit him immediately. He starts licking you at a vicious pace, it makes you hiss through your teeth as you let your head loll back.

The pressure from his mouth already has you barreling toward an orgasm, but you try to regain the slim amount of control you have in the situation.

You don’t stop yourself from rocking your hips against him, you can feel his moans vibrate from underneath you.

“You’re so fucking greedy,” You find his hands and place them on your chest. He picks up the cue and squeezes your breasts harshly, forcing a small gasp out of you.

“You can’t have me all the time, Junnie,” You breathe out, gasping once again as he pinches your nipples. He was always a good multitasker.

The pinch forced a small whine from your throat and you felt his laughter from beneath you. He was having way too much fun with the punishment, but you weren’t about to sacrifice your orgasm to call out his teasing.

“Shit, shit, shit,” That last curse melts into a loud moan as you feel him suck your clit with no remorse.

That felt like a “yes, I can have you all the time” in response to your statement. Unfortunately, he was the only one that could blow your back out correctly every single time. The action made your vision go out for a second, but you regained your focus soon enough.

As much as he was a good sub, he was just as much a shithead when he didn’t have control. This meant while he was taking his punishment, he’d try to rile you up even more if he had access to his hands. You’re now regretting not restraining them as he claws his nails down your back.

He’s still eating you out as if he’s never gonna see you again, and the sensations were almost enough to drive you over the edge. You can hear him sucking your clit with such force that you’re sure that your orgasm will hit you full throttle.

Meanwhile, the intensity of it all is starting to wear you out as you grip your arms onto the bed frame. Exhaustion is on the horizon, but you don’t want to give up the orgasm you’ve wanted for a little while now. He's still going just as hard, and you’re nearly ready to explode.

Your hips are so tired, but they keep up with Jun's relentless pace on your core.

“Fuck, baby, please I’m so close,” you whispered. The pet name only slips out when you’re about to cum hard and this time is no exception. It’s only another second or two before your orgasm hits and your body collapses forward onto the bed frame.

“Keep going,” you moan softly. He starts again and you can’t bear to move your upper half, but your hips bounce to help him regain momentum. You figure that you deserve to be overstimulated tonight, especially by a guy who doesn’t shut the fuck up for his own good sometimes.

You whimper even louder than before as your second orgasm washes over you, and your hips slow until you’re finally still.

You know your legs are shaking, but you don’t realize how badly until you try to crawl off his face.

“Fuck,” You whisper, slowly pushing yourself down his body until you can lay flat on your back toward the end of the bed. You take a second to breathe before sitting up to look at him. Surprisingly, he’s being good and staying quiet, catching his breath and willing himself to relax despite his very obvious erection.

You crawl back up to straddle him again. “Should I let you kiss me? Hmm?” You whisper in his ear, leaving a few kisses on his jaw. He's closed his eyes, but you’re not having it at all.

“You haven’t fought back yet, you’re doing so good for me,” You move up to his forehead, pressing your lips there for a few moments before moving away.

“You’re gonna cum if you see me, aren’t you?” He still doesn’t say a word, but you’re actually curious to hear his response. You’ve only seen him cum untouched a handful of times, so seeing it again would truly be a treat.

“Answer me,” Your tone is still soft, but firm enough to scare him into submission even further.

“Yes, I would,” His eyebrows are knitted together and his breaths start to get more shallow. You peek down at his cock again and it’s clear that he’s not lying, any false move would send him and the very irritated bright red tip of his dick right over the edge.

You take a moment to crawl off of him again and settle at the end of the bed. As much fun as it would be to send him home to cum in his pants, you decide otherwise.

“Do you agree to not hook up for the rest of the week?”

“Yes,” He breathed out, hands splayed out beside him.

“Do you know I can touch myself as much as I want without you around?”

“Yes,” You can clearly see that his resolve is crumbling just by listening to you.

“Do you realize how much of a massive slut you are, leaking on my sheets like you’ve never been touched before?” You couldn’t possibly ignore his precum wetting your sheets, the sight of it was almost too satisfying.

“God, yes baby, please let me cum. I won’t ask for anything else, please,” He whines sweetly, he’s so antsy now that you’re tired of watching him struggle.

“Okay,” you agree with a nod, “you can look at me, babe.” You decide to massage your nipples, letting out quiet yet obscene moans. You know your face looks porn star-esque as you stare at him, which makes his reaction absolute perfection.

He opens his eyes and it only takes a few seconds for him to cum, your face falls into a smile and his orgasm is so intriguing to watch.

His mouth opens and his eyes roll to the back of his head immediately. Thick white ropes of his cum paint his stomach and the relief on his face is palpable.

You give him a second to regain his composure as you grab a washcloth from the bathroom. He's still panting by the time you come back and it makes you giggle.

“You are really something, you know that?” You toss the cloth into his hands and he gives you a sheepish smile.

“I didn’t mean to get so possessive, I just like seeing you,” He doesn’t look you in the eye as he cleans himself up and it stirs something in you. You don’t want to have this conversation with him tonight.

“I like seeing you too when you’re not blowing up my phone all the time about fucking me,” You hit his shoulder lightly. He sighs to himself and gets off the bed to retrieve his clothes off the floor.

“Plus, when do you ever just want to see me anyways?” You mutter.

“We hang out,” His voice is slightly raised which tells you he’s not too sure about that.

“Not really, not in a while. You just ghost me if I want to make plans with you,” You rummage through your dresser for some pajamas with your back turned to him.

It's not that he would make a terrible boyfriend, he honestly would be a far better partner compared to the guys you’ve dated in the past. He's shown you how much he cares about you in the past few years before your arrangement started.

Yet, there’s something missing.

“I know I haven’t been a good friend lately and you don’t deserve that,” He shakes his head with a hint of disappointment.

“I just miss being your friend before all this,” Your reply comes out more as a whisper and you still can’t turn around to face him. As if on cue, he touches your shoulder.

He spins you around gently, now fully clothed, so his hands are now resting on both your shoulders.

“I miss it too. I think you’d be mad if I told you why I’ve been distant,” His eyes hit the floor, you’re not sure why he’s being so shy considering you know all his secrets, nothing could make things difficult, right?

“If you like me, that’s not really news,” You tilt your head slightly, expression unreadable.

“Oh, I mean that’s kind of-” He takes his hands off your shoulder, suddenly flustered. You think he probably didn’t expect you to figure him out that easily.

“So you do like me?” You smile at him and he returns it, nodding without any hesitation.

“Yeah, a lot. How did you know?”

“I was just guessing,” You gave him a pointed look and a faint blush started to spread across his cheeks. “We’ve never had this much sex before, I figured things weren’t normal but I didn’t want to push you to talk about it.”

“No, I should've said something instead of just ignoring that feeling. It’s not your fault, I promise. I’m sorry,” He seems earnest with his reply and it warms your heart. He grabs your hand and you feel like it’s not a fake gesture, but a silent truce.

You don’t even remember the last time you held his hands, not even during sex. It feels like you’re breaking new ground in a stupid middle school crush kind of way.

It doesn't make up for everything, but it is a start.

“So I assume we’re not just friends anymore?” You ask, still very much naked in front of him.

“No, not at all. You didn’t even tell me if you like me,” He lets out a small giggle. His observance makes you roll your eyes.

“I like you. But we’re still not having sex again this week,” You warn him. He bursts into laughter and nods with a smug look on his face.

“Absolutely. No sex at all.”

You don’t want to let him out of the metaphorical dog house yet, it’s too fun to tease him for being too horny for his own good.

“You could even ask me on a date,” You gasp, sarcasm clearly evident in your voice. He matches your energy and grabs a shirt from your drawer to throw at you.

“You haven’t even given me time to think about it!”

“Figure it out, baby,” You force the shirt over your head, soon looking at him again with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Thought that’s only for when you’re cumming,” He tilts his head with a genuinely curious expression.

“I’m trying something different,” You shrug your shoulders before continuing, “Now go home so I can actually miss you.”

“Fine, see you soon then,” He pulls you into a short hug without asking, but you don’t necessarily mind. You figure he’s got some affection to catch up on anyways. His hugs are still so sweet, so calming after years of friendship. It melts your cold dead heart to feel it in a different context.

He’s out the bedroom door, eventually your front door and you’re left stunned. You’re shocked that you actually got him to open up, much less get past the friend zone.

Yet, miracles happen every day.

There’s nothing you can do to fight the feelings in your chest, not after tonight.

You’ll give him a hard time, just for a little bit longer. You decide that he has to earn your heart instead of you giving it away so freely.

That will make the descent into falling in love with him somewhat easier for you to swallow.

[sweetbillwriting]

The Real Deal

Part 5 - Never Alone

Description: Bill and Cassandra have been friends a long time and with time realize Cassandra he is her dream but not just him but also his lifestyle.

Characters: AU Single Bill Skarsgård. A version of Bill where he becomes single 2017 and with a different timeline. AU Skarsgårds and others. The rest is my own original characters.

Setting: The story will jump from 2001 until present day. This chapter jump between 2015 and 2019.

Warnings: 18+, alcohol, drugs, drunkeness, toxic relationship, smut (sort of), sex work, slut shaming.

Notes: Remember that is is fiction and the most of isn't true and is just for entertainment.

"Still haven't heard from him?" 

"Not a word, not even on Facebook." 

"He's such a fucking idiot. You know, he has done this to others too, just completely ignoring them and I don't understand why. Sure his job sucks, but like, come on." 

"But he has contact with you, your family?" 

"Em… Mostly Gustaf, me only a bit. Mom and dad a bit but they are also mad at his behavior." 

Cassie hadn't heard from Bill for months. Not even on her birthday. Last time she heard from him he talked about his new work conditions, the asshole producers and parties that more or less always ended up with him and Landon hungover in their apartment with no memories of the night before. She had been annoyed with him during the whole conversation because he just spoke about his life. His job, his friends, his dreams, his disappointment. Cassie was relieved when the phone call was over. Now, several months later she wished she could just hear him complain again. She missed him so much that she had called Eija just to get some answers but she didn't have many. 

"Do you think… It's drugs or something?" Cassie asked carefully, like she didn't really want to know the answer. 

"It sounds like they smoke a lot. They seem to mostly be inside, smoking and planning their success. It feels like they have some sort of megalomania…" 

Cassie laughed a little. 

"Hasn’t he always had that?" 

Eija laughed. 

"I think my whole family suffers from that to be honest." 

Cassie laughed too and looked around in her dorm room. She had a picture of her, Eija and Bill together pinned on the fairy lights on the wall. It was from a drunken night in Stockholm a couple of years ago. Both siblings looked like models while Cassie felt like she looked like a toad in between them. Now it was early morning on a Sunday while in Sweden it was afternoon. Cassie started to wonder if she maybe bothered Eija. 

"But no drugs then?" 

"No serious drugs. Just weed and some party drugs. I mostly think they are angry little boys locked in the apartment and then they party when the girlfriend is there." 

Cassie sighed. The girlfriend. The crazy actress. She had understood from Bill that they fought a lot. That they both made each other jealous on purpose and she even had hit him a few times. It sounded so toxic as it could be and Cassie didn't even wanna hear it. Her Bill wouldn't do all this shit. Her Bill would never be with such a person and he would definitely not begin to act like it himself. 

"Okay… Thank you, Eija. But please ask him to call me if you're talking to him." 

"Totally. I'm always here for you, Cassie. Especially when Bill is being an asshat and doesn't see that he can lose you." 

× 

Bill was back in Stockholm again. It was always a relief for him to come home to his country. He had his own apartment for six month that he had been decorating himself. First he asked Cassie, mostly because he didn’t have the energy to think about such things by himself but she had refused to help him. It wasn’t to be mean but because she knew Bill could do it himself. He had good taste and even an interest but as soon as he actually needed to do the work he couldn't decide for himself. Because of the lack of help he had been forced to do it by himself and was now quite pleased with the result. It had simple, white walls and polished wooden floors. Classic Scandinavian interior design. He had mostly photo art on the walls but in the living room he had a vintage poster of the solar system. On one wall he also had a drawing. A Pennywise drawing made by Director Andy Muschietti himself. The first he had bought for his apartment was a massive wooden table to have in the dining area. It was maybe the most important thing, except for the bed that was a special bed, extra long because of his height but also because he could move quite a lot when he was asleep. The couch was also big, so that many people could sit comfortably but it also made for lazy days. It was in black velvet with a chrome glass table in front of it. Next to it stood two bookcases in dark wood filled with books. It was probably quite obvious a man lived there. 

Bill walked around in the apartment, thinking about putting on that series everyone was talking about or if he should read the book for a script adaptation he received but he was too restless for those kinds of activities. He was often restless, even if he loved being back in Sweden it was hard to live so… slow. What did others do? 

A thought or a feeling swimmed around in his head which made it even harder to just continue doing nothing. He sat down on the couch and looked at Cassie's number on his phone, then called her without even considering the large time difference in New York. 

Cassie lay awake scrolling her phone even if it was early Sunday. Usually she would sleep until noon but now she wasn't alone. Georg was there, lying behind her with an arm round her waist. They were covered by her dark blue sheets and nothing else. Cassie knew this was the new normal, now when he paid so much but it was annoying to not decide for herself when he could spend the night and when not to. He was probably expecting a quickie before he went home to his big flat with a view over central park. Cassie sighed and tried to move his arm from her body without waking him up. She almost cheered when she succeeded and then stood up without looking at Georg who was lying on his back with his chest of white hair exposed. When Cassie approached the bathroom her phone started to buzz on the nightstand and in a panic she grabbed it and ran to the bathroom. Locked in the bathroom she looked down at her buzzing phone and saw Bill calling. She smiled and answered even if she didn't know how long Georg would stay asleep. 

"Hey," said Bill, then he was quiet. He often did that. Call to just pretend she was close. 

"Did you have a specific reason to call,” Cassie asked while she sat down on the toilet to pee.

"Are you peeing?" He asked. He could hear the familiar sound and smirked. 

"Yeees." 

"Is it nice?" 

"So nice. First pee of the day you know," Cassie said while flushing and washed her hands with her phone pressed between her shoulder and cheek. 

"That one is nice." 

"Mhm. What are you doing Billy? Are you restless?" 

She knew him too well or he was just that easy to read. 

"Yeah… But I also have a question?" 

Cassie put on a robe and looked at her make-up free face in the mirror. 

"So… Larissa and I, well that never happened but as the impulsive idiot I am, I bought a ticket for her to my family's Christmas trip… Do you want to go instead?" He rambled. He did it so she wouldn't focus so much on him and Larissa had stopped seeing each other but he also knew Cassie would still ask about that even if he didn't want to talk about it. He laid on the couch chewing on his pinky as he waited on the question he didn't want to answer.

"Ooh… What happened?" 

Bill sighed. Cassie knew he didn't want to talk about it but she also knew he needed to talk about it and it was most often her who he talked about such things with. 

"Yeah you know, she felt I was more interested in my job than her." 

"I'm sorry Bill but I know how important your job is so it was probably for the best. You will find someone that can accept your work conditions." 

"Sometimes I just think… Maybe I shouldn't have broken up with my ex. It did work pretty good." 

Now it was Cassie's turn to sigh. He had said these things before. Bill wanted safety and wanted that special girl by his side. He didn't like being single and definitely not dating. 

"You didn't want the same thing. You know that. You don't even know what would have happened if you had a child. Maybe she would have then said you must work less." 

Bill was quiet on the line. He played with a lighter he had found on the table and thought, again, that he should start smoking again. 

"Anyway, do you want to come to Thailand with my big awful family? You don't need to pay anything because I've already paid for everything." 

Cassie smiled and thought about it. Bill, calm, tanned, happy. His family, warm, fun and safe. And the luxury. The best hotel, white beaches and exotic restaurants. Larissa was stupid to ditch Bill before the trip. 

"Of course Billy, I would love to." 

×

His legs were spread out on each side of her. Long and hairy with childhood scars on his knees. Cassie dragged her fingers through the hair while Bill played the Swedish game Bulleribock on her back. 

"Bulleri bulleri bock hur många horn står det opp?" 

Cassie tried to feel how many fingers he pressed against her back. 

"Three?" 

"Tre du sa, tre det var bulleri bulleri bock." 

They were finally together again. Together in Gustaf's apartment in Stockholm, in his bed. Gustaf was filming so Bill had his apartment and when he had left Canada, the weird girlfriend and the messy film set, he called Cassie. He had thought a lot about her but was so locked in his bubble he had problems reaching out. He and Landon had felt lonely so unconsciously they had made themself even more lonely. 

He was so happy being with Cassie again, lying in bed and breathing in her scent and calmness. Her caring nature. They laid between the green sheets, Cassie with her head on Bill's bare chest. She played with the hairs around his nipples. It had just grown more and more and she wondered when it would spread out over his chest. 

"He said he needed some time to think… Then a few days later I saw him with another girl at the restaurant I've taken him to on our third date… You know that Lebanese place you showed me," said Cassie and continued to play with his nipple hair. He had asked her about the guy she was seeing and once again the guy had more or less just disappeared. She felt it was her curse, to meet guys that never saw her as the right girl. 

"Ahh gumman, I'm sorry… I knew you liked him," said Bill and took her hand. Cassie looked up at his face and shrugged her shoulders. Bill dragged his other hand over her back, dressed in one of his t-shirts.

"I don't like him anymore. Nothing to grieve. Do you want to tell me what happened to you and that girl now?" 

Bill sighed and dragged his hand over his forehead and back through his messy hair. 

"I don't know what to say really. I don't think anything worked between us. We were so different from each other and just… You know what I mean, we were not good for each other." 

Cassie nodded a little and positioned herself so they could lay face to face. 

"She likes wild parties, drama… She wanted me to spank her and call her a whore and…" 

Cassie smiled a bit amused. 

"Can't you do that? Just be a daddy?" She teased. Bill sighed and rolled his eyes. 

"Sorry, maybe I'm old fashioned but it feels really weird doing such a thing to a woman. I know people like that shit but I think it's just degrading and… I want to be her boyfriend, not her daddy." 

Cassie smiled a little and looked down at Bill's lips for a second. She knew he had those feelings just like the majority of Swedes in the country. Everything should be politically correct and even sex was a political question. He had also been friends with many feminist girls that had called him a pig if he even thought about calling a girl a whore in bed. 

"Wouldn't you even want to try? Just to see how it is?" She asked and again looked down at his lips. 

"Sure with the right girl… Explore when I know it's just between me and her… But she wanted everyone to hear and wanted to cause a scene…" 

Bill dragged a hand over his face and closed his eyes like it was painful to think back on. Cassie understood what he wanted to say but wasn’t able to formulate. He didn't feel safe with that girl. He should be a man and be confident and horny but instead he was the one that felt unsafe. Cassie understood that even if Bill couldn't phrase it. She pressed herself closer to him, hugged him and gave him a kiss and the side of his neck. 

"You're such a good guy, Billy and that's never a bad thing." 

× 

Cassie looked at Bill's broad back spread on Thailand's hot sand on a thin blanket. He had gotten color quite fast but it shifted to a red tone. His scandinavian skin wasn't really made for this sort of weather. Cassie had just come up from the water and looked out over the beach. Eija and her fiancé lay close by in the shadows. They always looked so in love and Cassie could often envy them. There were few who had such a relationship as those two had. Bill turned and looked at her. He had a pair of old sunglasses he had lived in when he was like 24. She had had similar ones just like everyone else but now felt they were outdated. Bill wasn't exactly a trendsetter.

"I'm really glad you came. I don't know who to bug otherwise. It's just couples," he said as he sat up. He had let his facial hair be and he had a shadow of a mustache on the top of his lip. Cassie smiled and fixed her red bikini before sitting down. 

"You have Valter." 

Bill smiled bashfully. 

"We both know he has more in common with Ossian than with me." 

Cassie smirked and brushed away some sand from her knees. Bill and Valter loved each other like brothers do but had a problem finding common ground over more than film and they rarely talked the same language even then. 

"We don't have so much in common either. I have style while you don't. You are pretentious while I'm not…" 

Bill laughed and faked offensiveness. 

"I'm not pretentious!" 

Cassie gave him a pointed look. 

"Come on, even your dad gets nervous to talk about some things with you! You’re suddenly name dropping some philosopher from Taiwan or something!" 

Bill shook his head with a smirk. Cassie smiled at him because both of them knew she was right but they also knew he was pretentious because he was really intelligent and keen to learn. Lots of people thought of him as just an actor but he probably could have been just whatever he liked. 

"So what is your dude doing?" Bill asked, stretching out his long body. The swim shorts sat low on his hips and tight in the front. 

"Who?" Cassie said while watching Bill's body up and down. 

"The older gentleman," Bill said with an old British accent. Cassie looked away. She didn't want to talk about Georg. That was something Bill shouldn't be a part of and that was also a finished chapter. When she had told Georg that she was going away on a trip with a male friend he had lost it. He felt that he paid her enough to just be with him and not "whore around" as he put it. He didn't want her to have contact with any other men and that would have never worked. Especially because of Bill. She needed to have Bill in her life. 

"Oh, that wasn't anything serious. Just a bullshit thing. That's over." 

Bill patted her thigh. 

"Aren't we hopeless? Soon we’ll be thirty and still single." 

Cassie clicked her tongue. 

"That’s not even old. I still feel the same as I did in my early twenties," Cassie said a bit annoyed. She hated when Bill made them sound old. 

"I just thought I wouldn't be alone in my thirties. It seems a bit sad." He said and sat up on the blanket and pushed his sunglasses up on his head. 

"Bill, for having two older brothers that have lived like they are twenty until they were forty you are so conservative. You don't need to have someone just because you are thirty. And you should definitely not be with someone just to not be alone." She said it like she was annoyed at him but she was just annoyed at how much he restrained himself. All this talk about not being alone made her sad for his sake, because he made poor choices because of it. 

Bill was quiet, Cassie was one of few that was totally honest with him. That dared to say the things he didn't want to hear. He knew he didn't need a girlfriend, he knew he didn't need emotional support around the corner but he couldn't stop acting that way. It had become a part of his persona. 

He took Cassie's hand that lay in her lap and played with her fingers between his. He had a bit to learn from Cassie but she had also had something to learn from him. She gave up on people, jobs and interests if they didn't reward her quickly but he wouldn't bring that up now, that would be childish and he didn't want to hurt her. 

"I love you, Cassandra." 

Cassie smiled and looked at their hands. 

"I love you, Bill." 

Just when Cassie sat and felt the warmth in her chest he surprised her by lifting her up and throwing her up on his shoulder. 

"Bill!" She screamed in panic when he started to run down to the water.

"I'm going to punish you for talking like that to me!" He said and ran down in the water while Cassie just screamed. She never liked when he did those kinds of things and he knew it. Sometimes he was like an irritating brother. When the water was deep enough he threw her in. 

In the shadow sat Eija and her fiancé watching them and smiled amused. 

"Why aren't they a couple? Have they ever tried to?" Asked her fiancé and looked between her face and Bill and Cassie. Eija sighed deeply.

"He has. But she doesn't want to. She has always refused him." 

Her fiancé nodded a little, sadly. He knew Bill well now and knew he was a sensitive guy so such a thing must have broken him. 

× 

Even if Bill had said he wanted to lay in bed for weeks after coming home from Canada he agreed to come to a club opening with some friends. Cassie still sat in bed when he turned around with the phone pressed against his cheek.

"That's okay right? I think it can be fun to do something." 

Cassie smiled and unintentionally fixed her hair. It was with friends of Bill's she knew so it could actually be fun.

"Yeah okay." She said and Bill gave her a big smile as an answer while he searched after his socks on the floor. He had managed to put on his jeans while talking on the phone. Now he had a shirt and socks to look for. Cassie still sat in just one of his t-shirts and panties. She hadn't any reason to dress yet. 

When he hung up he had one sock on and his jeans were still unbuttoned. Breathless, after the fight with the socks he turned to Cassie again. 

"So pizza?" 

Cassie laughed a little and stood up and in the bed and threw her arms on Bill's neck. 

"Sure but not that weird one you like to eat!" 

"Oh with peanuts?" He placed her down the bed, passing her jeans to her. 

"And not that one with fries on it!" 

She put on the jeans and her own socks. 

"You have the worst taste in pizza!" Bill said with a dramatic voice and threatened her with his boot. Cassie smirked and put on her own outerwear. 

"It's swedes that have that! Especially you! And don't you dare wear that jacket! It's so fucking ugly!" 

The day went by as they ate and got ready for the club event. Cassie panicked over her outfit while Bill chose to keep the one he had on from earlier that day. Cassie wished she could just wear jeans and a t-shirt but girls couldn't get away with such an outfit at a club opening. People would think she was Bill's assistant or something. She decided to wear a deep purple Herve Leger look-alike dress. 

"Wow," Bill said when he saw her. She stood in front of the hallway mirror putting on a big pair of hoop earrings. 

"Do I look okay?" She asked and looked down at herself.

"You will be the prettiest girl there." 

"Am I overdressed?" 

"Who cares? You look great." 

Bill had words like hot and sexy on his tongue but that was weird to say to a friend. Maybe she would even think he was just joking around. He looked at her up and down again and he felt a bit underdressed but he wouldn't feel comfortable in a dress shirt at a club. Together they went to a friend of Bill's. It was mostly just guys but Cassie had met them many times and she felt comfortable. The friend lived in a big Victorian apartment in the old parts of Stockholm, an apartment his father owned but he "borrowed" from him. Bill's friends were a mix, some super privileged and others that fought hard to afford their one room apartment in Botkyrka. Still Cassie always felt like there was a flair of luxury when she was in Stockholm she couldn't put her finger on why but she always felt a bit like a princess around Bill. 

Bill liked that Cassie could mingle so well with his friends, she was fun, sweet and confident. He liked watching her from afar when she mingled around with his friends but while doing that he also noticed other things. How several of his friends looked at her body in that tight dress, someone that winked their eye at her and another that even offered his lap for her to sit in. Bill just felt his hands tremble and his face flush but wiped it away as just friendly care. He knew his place, that he shouldn't jump in and he knew also Cassie could handle it by herself. His friends may be flirty but they always understood a no. 

The club had some sort of rave theme with neon, blinking lights and bubbles. It was fun for a while but then Bill craved a smoke and Cassie just wanted some fresh air. Bill left Cassie on a bench, after checking it was alright and then walked to the smoking area. He stood around with people dressed as dark as himself. Cassie had realized quickly that she wore totally the wrong outfit. She could never really learn the Swedish dress code, she always felt either overdressed or underdressed. She looked at Bill talking with a brunette. She was probably in her thirties and had a messy updo like she had danced wildly. 

The girl on the bench next to Cassie asked her something in Swedish and pointed to Bill. 

"I'm sorry, I don't speak Swedish." Cassie said politely. 

"Aw, you're British, that's so cute! I just asked if you're here with him?" Said the girl and moved to sit next to Cassie. The girl had long blonde hair and a black skater dress on. 

"Yeah, why?" 

"I know who he is. We actually went to school together." 

"Oh, wow." Cassie smiled. She didn't really know what to say. 

"Are you his girlfriend?" 

Cassie looked at Bill, who still stood with the brunette. She seemed to give his under arm a massage and Cassie furrowed her brows at the odd vision. 

"No, no we're just friends…" said Cassie but continued to look at Bill smiling at the woman in front of him. 

"Okay…" said the blonde but looked at Cassie who couldn't stop watching Bill. 

"You know, when he left Sweden he was cute, really cute but now… He's sexy. There’s quite a few people that have decided they want him." 

"Yeah…" said Cassie and tried to give the girl a smile. It wasn't anything new, she could also see that Bill had changed the years he was away. That he now looked mysterious and sexy. She also understood there were probably many girls in Stockholm that wanted to claim him as their own. Cassie looked at the brunette again, she was older than Bill and looked at him with a perfect mix of care and wonder. Like he was a golden prince. 

Cassie and Bill walked in again and danced with his friends but also got company of the brunette and her friends. They just danced silly and wild. Cassie couldn't really understand how Bill suddenly could be so drunk but she noticed he more and more used her as some sort of pillar to lean on and his eyes becoming heavy. 

"It's time for you to take Billen home now! Before you find him sleeping somewhere!" said one of his friends and gave Cassie an amused smile. Bill had a tendency to fall asleep easily and at weird places when he was drunk. 

"No, no. I'm okay…" said Bill with a lazy voice and dragged a hand over his face. 

"No it's time to go home," said Cassie and took Bill's hands. She felt Bill's friends and the others watching them. "You know, half my pizza is waiting for us in the fridge." She said and dragged him with her. 

"Sov gott kompis!" Shouted his friends while Cassie dragged Bill with her through the club.

Bill was extremely sleepy so Cassie got them a taxi at Slussen even if it wasn't so far to walk but she was afraid Bill wouldn't be able to walk. He was just as sleepy in the taxi but when they were in Gustaf's apartment again he had wolfed down Cassie's pizza leftovers and drank quite a lot of water. With a full belly he perked up a bit. They got ready for bed together, or Bill brushed his teeth then sat at the toilet lid watching Cassie do her procedure. 

"Have you stopped using hand cream as night cream?" Cassie teased. Another time after a night out he thought he would surprise her and do a facial routine too, the problem was just that he took her hand cream instead. 

Bill stuck out his tongue and stretched his arm. 

"I don't feel that tired anymore," he said and played with the elastic of his boxers. Cassie sighed because she actually was. 

"We're going to sleep now. You need it." She said like a determined mother. 

Bill didn't say anything, just followed her to bed. They already had their side of the bed, the same side they always slept on. 

They laid down face to face under the fluffy covers and looked at each other with small smiles. Cassie thought about what that girl had said, that Bill was sexy, it was true but right then and there he was just that cute little boy, with big eyes and an elfish nose. Bill watched Cassie, admired her makeup free face. He had always liked her like that. She looked much younger but still sexy in an innocent way. He breathed heavily and crawled closer to her. Cassie smiled and thought he just wanted to cuddle so she laid her arms around his shoulders but Bill kissed her softly. His lips were wet and plush, like they already were swollen full of kisses. First Cassie just laid shocked but when he kissed her again she kissed back. Bill's hands took a hold of her waist over her t-shirt and continued to caress her back. He did it softly, like how you pat a kitten. They kissed a few times more just as softly and innocent. She knew Bill so well she knew he waited on her to deepen the kiss, to show him it was okay that they went to the next level. She licked his plump bottom lip to make him separate his lips and invite her tongue in. He groaned when they started to kiss passionately and he pushed her t-shirt up a bit to touch her naked hips and waist. Cassie caressed Bill's shoulder and chest but slowly a voice in her head started to get louder and louder. 

This will destroy your friendship. He is your only real friend.

She pulled away from his arms and pushed his chest. Bill let go of her fast and looked at her with his big eyes like he had done something wrong. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry… But you're drunk Bill and… You're my best friend. This is such a bad idea." She rambled. Bill crawled away even more to give her space and nodded a little. 

"We're friends, Bill…" 

"Yeah, yeah…" he said and turned away his eyes. "I'm going to pee…" he said lowly to get away from the situation and went to the bathroom. 

Cassie sat up in bed and hugged a pillow. She was sure that Bill was just drunk and horny. They had been friends for so long, why would he suddenly want to kiss her? He probably missed that actress girl. 

Bill stood in the bathroom, splashing his face and neck with cold water and then looked at his reflection. She had rejected him again. Okay, he was just eleven the first time but it felt the same. He was really friendzoned. He had thought he felt a chemistry between them but obviously he was wrong. He would never try that again, it was humiliating to be rejected and one more time their friendship wouldn’t survive.

When Bill came out Cassie pretended to sleep and it was the best for the both of them because they both felt humiliated. The both of them believed they were the only one with romantic feelings for the other one. 

Their friendship would survive the situation, probably thanks to that fact that both of them had a partner just a few months later. 

× 

Bulleri Bock - a child game where you push in fingers in a person's back and they will guess how many you hold up. 

Bulleri bulleri goat how many horns stands up? (drumming on the other person's back and then holds up some fingers against the other person's back) 

(The other person is guessing) 

(the person's guess) you said, (the right answer) it was. Bulleri bulleri goat. 

(drumming on the guessing person's back again) 

Gumman - is from the beginning a loveable word for an old lady but is today a pet name for girls. The male version is Gubben. 

Swedish feminism - have been really radical and have roots in swedish social democratic history where everything is politic. It's better now, it peaked with #metoo but after that have other opinions and feministic perspective become okay. 

Botkyrka - Part of Stockholm County that is an area of ​​exclusion and has high criminality. 

Slussen - area that connects Gamla Stan with Södermalm. A common place to expire from when you're in Stockholm. Also known for their constant rebuilding. 

×

[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.

[storiesforallfandoms]

talent that runs in the family ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 2128

request?: yes!

“Being rooks sister and substitute him while he recovers and slowly start to fall in love with colson”

description: she steps in to replace her brother when he is seriously injured and ends up gaining feelings for his friend

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

“Thanks so much for doing this (Y/N),” Rook said over the phone. “I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, no problem,” I said. “But does Colson know that I’m...y’know...not a seasoned vet?”

“You’ll do fine.”

I refrained from reminding him that he didn’t actually answer my question.

After Rook’s accident left him out of commission for some time, he came to me to ask if I’d fill in for him. I jumped at the opportunity. Rook had taught me how to drum when I was young and, much like my big brother, it became a passion of mine. How could I turn down working with one of the biggest artists of the year, even if it were just for a short while?

Well, my nerves were definitely telling me I should’ve said no as I walked into soundcheck that day.

“Whatever,” I said. “I’ll call you after the soundcheck.”

“Hey, don’t be nervous. You’re gonna do great.”

I said my goodbyes and hung up. I tried not to focus on how big the venue we were playing in was as I made my way to the otherwise empty stage. I thought I was the first person to arrive until I heard someone calling my name.

“(Y/N), up here!”

I looked up to see the guys sat in a booth in the balcony. Colson was all but leaning over the railing, waving for me to join them. I had no idea how to get up there on my own, but luckily a security guard showed me the way.

The guys were eating pizza and drinking from plastic cups as if they were the ones attending the concert and not performing in it.

“Pre-show ritual,” Colson told me. “Especially when we have someone new joining the band. Sit! Have a slice!”

“Shouldn’t we be practicing?” I asked, but still sat with them. I didn’t want to completely mess up my first day.

“We have hours to practice,” one of the other guys I remembered as Slim said. “And we don’t really need to. We do this every night. A soundcheck is basically just to make sure everything is working tech wise.”

I just nodded, not wanting to point out that I hadn’t been doing this every night. I hoped that I’d have some time to figure out the songs before the shows.

Colson nudged me, bringing my attention to him. “Don’t stress. You’ll do great.”

I smiled at him, wishing I’d believe him.

After our small feast of pizza and beer in plastic glasses, we finally got to our soundcheck. I was so nervous that I kept messing up during the first song. My hands were shaking and I kept hitting the wrong drum by accident. My face was burning with embarrassment as I buried it in my hands and groaned.

Colson walked up to me, a sympathetic smile on his face.

“I’m sorry,” I sighed. “I can get this, I know I can.”

“I know you can, too,” he said. “Just take a breath, relax. We’ll try again when you’re ready. And remember, it’s just drumming. Rook says you’re great at it.”

I smiled at him and nodded. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I pictured myself back in my bedroom from my childhood, playing my drums super loud until my parents had to call out for me to keep it down.

When we started practicing again, it went off without a hitch. We did most of the setlist all the way through and did quick takes on the last few songs before our time was up.

I was proud of myself as the soundcheck came to an end. I was still nervous about performing during the actual show, but I felt confident enough in myself not to make too many noticeable mistakes when we actually had an audience that night.

I was walking to my car when I heard someone calling for me. I turned to see Colson running to catch up with me. Or rather he was taking long strides to catch up with me considering he was so tall.

“I told you you would do great!” he said, putting an arm around my shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. “It’s like drumming runs in your blood or something.”

I chuckled. “That’s what mom and dad always said too, but neither one of them can keep a beat to save their lives and no one else in our immediate family plays either.”

“You and Rook are the start of a long line of drummers then I guess.”

I shrugged in response. We both stood awkwardly for a moment. I wasn’t sure what else to say. His arm was still around my shoulder and I didn’t want to pull away and make it seem like I didn’t enjoy the contact because I definitely was not complaining about it.

I guess Colson also realized that he was still touching me, though, because he pulled his arm away and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

“Do you need a run to the hotel or anything?” he asked. “We have the tour bus.”

I shook my head. “I’m good, thanks. I have my car, and besides I haven’t even checked into the hotel yet so I should probably go do that.”

“Oh, yeah you definitely should. Get some rest before the show, too. It’s a lot more physically demanding when it’s an actual show, even if you’re just sitting at a drum set the entire time. I’ll see you tonight then I guess.” He turned to walk away, but paused and turned back to add, “What were you planning on wearing tonight?”

I looked at him, confused. “Uh...this I guess.”

I was wearing a hoodie and a pair baggy jeans and my most comfortable pair of sneakers.

Colson raised an eyebrow at my outfit before looking back up at me. “I mean, it’s definitely comfy, but I would recommend something a little less...well, just less. It’s going to be hot as fuck on that stage, especially with all the lights on you and shit.”

I nodded, taking note of this as I got into my car and internally panicked a little because I didn’t know if I even had anything to wear.

~~~~~~

A few hours later, after checking into my hotel room and promptly wrecking it by throwing my clothes everywhere, I was heading back down to the lobby to meet up with the guys. We were going to the show together, which would’ve been my first tour bus ride. I couldn’t lie, I was super stoked for it.

I was the last one to the lobby. All the guys were stood around, loudly talking to one another. You’d think they were just a normal group of guys and not a group about to play a sold out show in a massive arena.

Colson spotted me first. I smiled at waved at him. His eyes widened and his jaw basically dropped, which prompted all the guys to turn. Their reactions immediately matched his as they looked me up and down.

“Rook would kill you guys if he could see you right now,” I teased.

“Damn (Y/N),” Colson dared to say first. “You look...you look hot as fuck.”

I had decided on a loose muscle shirt with a bralette underneath since the shirt showed a little more than what I was used to, a pair of ripped skinny jeans, and kept on the comfortable sneakers I had been wearing earlier that day.

I giggled. “Thanks, but again, Rook would kill you for saying that. Also, it’s not anything super attractive.”

“You got a nice body,” Baze pointed out. “Anything showing it off even a little is hot.”

I could feel my face burning as I waved their comments away. “Okay, enough with this. We have a show to get to.”

We boarded the tour bus and started towards the arena. The guys were distracted amongst one another again, completely forgetting about me and my “hot outfit”. Besides Colson, who had come to sit next to me on the couch while the rest of the guys were already drinking whatever was in the mini fridge.

“Do you guys always get drunk before your shows?” I asked.

“Not always. Usually we get high,” Colson responded.

“Now that I can get behind. I’ll probably be less afraid if I’m high.”

Colson held out the joint in his hand to me. I took it and took a quick puff, the smoke immediately burning my throat and lungs as I tried to inhale it. Colson laughed as I started to cough.

“I still say you have nothing to worry about,” he told me. “You’re gonna do great tonight. You can’t even really see or hear the audience with all the lights and the inner ear pieces.”

“That’s even worse cause then I’ll just imagine how big the audience is.”

He put a hand on my leg, something I assume was just instinct for him to do to comfort someone, but the minute he made the contact I felt a jolt of electricity run through me. Colson quickly pulled his hand away and I wondered if he had felt that too.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that without asking,” he said.

“You can if you want,” I assured him. “I wasn’t mad about it or anything.”

Colson looked at me and I realized how blue his eyes were. Rook had always made jokes about how Colson could seduce any woman with just his eyes because they were such baby blues, but I didn’t really believe him until the moment I was looking in them myself. Now I was lost, completely forgetting everyone around me as I felt myself moving closer towards him.

The bus jerked to a stop, causing Colson and I to nearly be thrown from our seats. The guys started off the bus first, running towards the entrance to the arena as I could hear the waiting fans screaming outside.

Colson stood and offered a hand to me. “It’s showtime.”

~~~~~~

After the first song went perfectly, I stopped feeling nervous. Colson was right, I couldn’t see the audience in front of me, but I could faintly hear their screams of excitement over my inner ear piece. It was weird to have it in and not only hear all of us playing, but also the crew talking backstage. It was almost distracting, but it became easy to tune them out.

During one of Colson’s talking points in the show, I reached for my water bottle to take a sip. Colson was hyping the audience up, which made me smile a little.

“Before we continue the show,” he said into his mic, “you guys may have noticed that we do not have our regular drummer tonight.”

I immediately knew what he was about to do and I wanted to hurtle my drumstick at him before he went there.

“As you’ve probably heard, Rook was in a bit of an accident and is off recovering for the time being,” he continued. “So, we decided to get some family to fill in for him for the time being. Everyone, I want to hear y’all make some noise for Rook’s little sister, (Y/N)!”

The crowd cheered loudly. Colson turned to me and waved for me to stand. I glared at him, which I hoped he could see, before standing and awkwardly smiling and waving at the audience.

“All the cool drum shit you guys have been hearing all night has been (Y/N),” Colson said as he started to approach me. “She’s a bad ass fucking drummer, and she’s a pretty fucking cool chick, too.”

I was confused where he was going with this as he came to stand next to me, slinging an arm around my shoulder the way he had earlier that day after soundcheck.

“Which is why, (Y/N), I gotta ask: will you go on a date with me sometime?”

Slight embarrassment was swelling somewhere inside of me at being asked out in such a public way, but that embarrassment was overshadowed by the fuzzy feeling of excitement inside of me. I looked up at Colson, my eyes wide and a smile on my lips.

 He lowered the mic so he could privately add, “I’m being serious. I wanna take you out on a real date. Just the two of us.”

My words were stuck in my throat, but I was able to nod in response. The smile on Colson’s face stretched so wide that I could’ve been convinced he was the one lighting the show.

“Okay,” he said, then lifted the mic to say to his audience, “Let’s get back to the show guys!”

[memxntomxri]

𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚕𝚎

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟮 | 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | 𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗲

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 - bisexual!hinata shouyou x gn!reader, hinata shouyou x miya atsumu

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 - angst, break up

𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤 - hinata shouyou is trustworthy - with everything except for your heart

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 - 2.4k words

𝘵𝘸 - slightly descriptive nsfw?, cheating (i'm sorry to be doing my children hinata and atsumu dirty this way but this got stuck in my head 😭), major angst, break-up, no happy ending, lots and lots of crying, lots and lots of reader's internal thoughts, atsumu is an asshole

𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴 - this is the result of brainrot i had stuck in my head after reading chapter 18 of SabbyWrites' A Study in Depravity. HAIKYUU BOYS ARE NOT CHEATERS - I REPEAT, HAIKYUU BOYS ARE NOT CHEATERS. BISEXUAL PEOPLE ARE ALSO NOT CHEATERS. i just couldn't resist writing this lmao

also, i'm doing my best to make this a gender-neutral reader, but it might lean more towards AFAB/non-binary readers since i'm both ashelkgjkdlkjf male-identifying readers i'm sorry

thanks @meiansmistress, lou (LouEve_094 on ao3), lena, and emmy (Noisy_Emmy on ao3) for betaing! your feedback helped me a lot

𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙙𝙣𝙞 - there are some descriptive scenes of smut in here 👀 shoo, shoo

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

You know this.

It's the reason you met, after all.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

The summer you moved to Miyagi, following your father's dream of teaching in a little town similar to the one he lived in as a child, you were unhappy. Who could blame you, after all? You had a comfortable life back in Osaka, and unlike your father, you were a city dweller at heart. It was also the middle of your first year of high school—who wanted to transfer schools, let alone across prefectures, in the middle of a school year?

It was hot in Miyagi, and when the moving truck broke down on the side of the road, the entire family piled out and sat on the curb. Just your father (who you were still mad at), your mother, and you. That was what it had always been. Sure, you had friends, but somehow the friendships never got too deep. You were willing to bet that within a month, there would be no texts other than the occasional New Year's greeting or "happy birthday" from your so-called friends back in Osaka.

And don't even get you started on romantic relationships. It wasn't that you weren't attractive, or that you weren't easy to get along with—it was just that there was never anybody. Yes, you had liked people before, but nothing had ever come of it.

Your mother piped up, saving you from your dark thoughts about the state of your relationships with other people. "Y/n, love, can you go back down the hill again? I think we saw a konbini a bit that way, please buy some cool drinks." she says, depositing coins in your outstretched hand. Oh well, something to do, you supposed.

You strolled casually down the road, sweating buckets. When you pushed open the doors of the konbini—Sakanoshita Store, you noted, it definitely didn’t look like a konbini—opened, you basked in the cold air of the air conditioner for a bit. As you stood there, looking a bit dumb with your arms outstretched, you felt a weight barrel into you from behind.

With a bang, you fell forward, the weight landing on your back. "Ow!" you cried, rubbing your right wrist, which had unceremoniously made contact with the ground, pain shooting up the limb. You twisted around to glare at whatever had so unceremoniously bowled you over. You were met with the sight of wide, brown eyes and flushed cheeks. "Sorry!" the boy squeaked, getting off of you quickly. "So sorry!" You frowned and got up.

"Watch where you’re going, okay?" You were a few centimeters taller than him, you noted.

He started blabbering, talking about how he needed to get the first-aid kit because a "Stingyshima" had "accidentally" ran into "Bakageyama" and this "Bakageyama" now had a bleeding knee and that he was the fastest runner in their volleyball club (he was strangely emphatic about this point). By the time he was finished rambling, you were chuckling slightly. It was obvious that he hadn't meant anything by running into you, and it was actually kind of endearing how earnestly he was trying to explain himself.

You held up a hand, stopping him from continuing to ramble. "Y-you aren't mad, right?" he asked anxiously. You smiled and shook your head slightly. "It seems your team trusts you to help take care of your friend, so why don't you grab the first-aid kit and go help him?" You suggested gently.

He nodded quickly and darted behind the counter, grabbing a white box. As he jogged away, he seemed to remember something and turned around to holler at you. "My name's Hinata Shouyou! I'm a first year!" he introduced himself in a bright voice.

Just inside the konbini, a small smile slipped across your face.

Hinata Shouyou, huh. He seemed nice.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's the reason you fell in love with him.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

The first day of school, you meet Hinata Shouyou again. And again. And again. He somehow seems to pop up everywhere you go—not that you're complaining, he's entertaining and nice—and soon, you think you can count yourself as his friend.

You go to his game against Aoba Johsai, then Shiratorizawa, then you're hugging him as he jumps up and down, celebrating their win. That’s the first time your heart jumps when you look at him, haloed by the lights of the gym.

Slowly, you feel yourself falling in love with him. Not just falling for him, no, because Hinata Shouyou will not let anyone do anything in halves, especially not falling in love. Shouyou, to you, (because by then you were on first-name basis) is someone you can rely on, someone that is always there, like the sun, trustworthy.

And because he is always there, it's also easy to confess to him in your second year. You know him well enough by now to know that even if he doesn't feel the same, nothing would change about your friendship except for the addition of unspoken words. And you think that he might love you back, if the lingering glances and brighter smiles are any indication.

Your guess is right, and by New Year's break, the two of you are a happy couple.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's why you let him go, if only for a little bit.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

When Shouyou left for Brazil, you took a break from each other. To be honest, it was your idea.

It wasn't that you didn't think that you couldn't trust him ten thousand kilometers away—it was that you knew you would hold him back. He was going to Brazil to chase his dream, and having a tether to his hometown would only slow him down. It hurt, having to say goodbye at the airport, but somehow the two of you got through it.

You still talked—a little more than "just friends" should—but you were careful not to let him think that you were together.

Shouyou was meant for greater things, and back then, as an insecure, just-barely-adult going into medical school, you weren't sure if you fit into the picture.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's the reason why you let him back in.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

When Shouyou returns from Brazil, the first person he visits is you. You, all the way out in Osaka, pushing yourself to your limits as you study for med school. When you open your door and see him standing there, smiling as bright as ever, you fall into his arms—both literally and metaphorically. It turns out, even two years later, you trust him to catch you.

It was all too natural for you and Shouyou to get back together, and by a stroke of luck, he joins the MSBY Black Jackals, right there in Osaka. You move in together, his slightly larger salary allowing the two of you to rent a bigger apartment.

Yes, it's hard work being in a relationship again, but you like having Shouyou to return to every night after your shift is over. You wake up early every morning to make the two of you breakfast and lunch, and Shouyou always has dinner waiting for you when you step back in the door, often also staying up so that you can talk.

You're content.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's the reason why you think nothing of his closeness with his teammates.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Shouyou has always been a people-magnet. Even back in high school, everyone loved him. Shouyou is bisexual. You know this. He’s always had more than enough love to give back, too, and his bisexuality had never impacted your relationship. Why should it, when you’re every bit as queer as him? Your relationship was strong, and you believed in it. That's why, at every team dinner that he takes you to, when someone else inevitably takes the seats next to him instead of you and you're relegated to a corner, you don't worry about it. Shouyou loves you, and it doesn't matter where you sit for a couple of hours.

Yes, Miya Atsumu is a bit aggressive whenever Shouyou compliments him, throwing a smirk over his shoulder at you triumphantly, but you chalk it to them being good friends and Miya-san wanting to get to know you better by having a little friendly competition, and that's okay.

Yes, Shouyou starts going out with his team more and more, but they're his team. He's supposed to be close with them.

Yes, you start to feel a little neglected, but it wasn't as if you were the most attentive back when you were still struggling through med school.

And anyways, Shouyou always makes time for the two of you on Saturdays, your designated date nights. You have trust in your relationship, in its rock-tight foundation built upon years of knowing each other.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's why you believe his words.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

One Friday, after an especially busy shift at the hospital that got cut short for you when a coworker unexpectedly came in to fill in for you, you decide to head home early and get some rest, maybe cuddle with Shouyou while watching those romcoms you both enjoy.

You had told him that you'd be home late that night, and you hoped that you could surprise him with some dinner. So, you swung by his favorite yakitori place and ordered dinner, driving home as fast as you safely could.

As you open the door to your apartment, you hear the distinctive sounds of sex, skin slapping on skin, grunts and moans, high keens. You frown. Maybe Shouyou was watching porn? He sometimes liked to get himself ready (the two of you enjoyed the occasional pegging) before you got home. You drop the food on the kitchen table and put your jacket on the hook.

"Love, I'm home!" you call out softly. No response.

Frowning deeper now, you move towards the bedroom door. Just as you're about to open it, you hear something that stops you cold.

"A-ah, Atsumu!" It's distinctively Shouyou's voice, and suddenly, you can't move anymore.

Shouyou, who told you you could make it through med school.

Shouyou, who made you yakisoba and miso soup whenever you were stuck studying.

Shouyou, who whispered sweet nothings in your ear every morning as the two of you made breakfast.

Shouyou, who is currently in bed with Miya fucking Atsumu.

You want to get up, you want to slam open the door, you want to demand answers, but somehow, you can't get your legs to budge from the spot in the ground they've rooted themselves to.

Then,

"Who do you love, Sho?" Atsumu growls.

Your heart skips a beat.

No.

No.

You pray to all the gods you know that what's about to pass Shouyou's lips will miraculously stay trapped in his throat, but it seems like the gods don't feel kind today.

"Y-you, Atsumu, you!" you hear Shouyou cry.

Your heart shatters into a million little kaleidoscopic pieces. Tears start running down your face, hot, involuntary, painful, because they represent the six years of a beautiful relationship down the drain, because nothing will ever be the same, because Shouyou is cheating on you.

Finally, your legs decide to move again. It seems like someone else is controlling your body as you walk towards the door, opening it with a shaking hand.

Shouyou is pinned down by Miya-san on the bed, legs thrown over his shoulder, as he slams into him.

The door bangs against the wall.

Shouyou looks up, and when he sees you, his face floods with guilt.

You don't say anything. You just stand there, tears flooding down your face, betrayal evident in your expression.

"Y-y/n!" he says. "I-I- I swear, this isn't-" he begins.

You cut him off. "I don't want to hear it, Shouyou." you spit.

Miya-san chuckles. "Who are we kidding, this is exactly what they think it is. What, did you think that you would be enough to satisfy Sho? You, with your infinitely busy schedule? You, who has no clue about volleyball?" he says, cutting into you.

"Atsumu, stop!" Shouyou says, frantic. He can tell that he's going to lose you, but he's not going to go down without a fight. "Babe, I love you, please-" he says, getting out of Miya-san's embrace and moving towards you. You sidestep him, holding a duffel bag with a change of clothes.

You stand there, looking at the scene, chuckling darkly inside your head. Just a scorned lover, a man, and his side-piece. You take a deep breath.

"You know, Shouyou, if you fell in love with someone else, you should've just told me. I trust you to be honest. I'm leaving—because even though you might love me, you're in love with Miya-san." you said.

Shouyou looks stricken with guilt, but you know it's from lying, not because he loves you anymore. Your laugh is broken and rough on the ears. "You think I didn't hear you? Oh, Shouyou, I heard more than enough. Have a nice life, and I hope that you remember how you broke me. I hope it fucking haunts you to the day of your death," you hurl at him.

Because even though at that moment you're screaming at him, you know that you still love him, that you’ll always will love him, and that you will carry this scar for the rest of your life. And even though you love him enough to leave now, to let him be with the person he loves—you still have enough love for yourself to hope that he bears some of the weight of this horrible, messy end too.

And with that, you walk out the door.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

But you're wrong.

Hinata Shouyou might love Miya Atsumu, but he still loves you more.

Years later, looking back, he comprehends that he didn't just break you. As he stares at his empty apartment, devoid of a lover—because what you said was true, he still carries the guilt, the memory of your tear-stained face, the recollections of your golden time together that ruined any relationship he might have had before it started, the echo of your absolute trust in him,

—Hinata Shouyou realizes he ruined himself too.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

© ʙᴇᴛʜᴇʏᴅᴏᴄʀɪᴍᴇᴡʀɪᴛᴇꜱ 2021 - ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛ

[cafedanslanuit]

chapter guide | prev. chapter | next chapter | extra content

✖   —   chapter summary: after receiving a text from zeke, you go out to meet him, leaving porco behind. your head is full of questions and you're not quite sure how you're going to confront him about last night's events.

✖   —   pairing: porco/reader & zeke/reader

✖   —   chapter tags/warnings: college au, protected sex, zeke calls you a good girl, mentions and/or descriptions of parental emotional abuse/traumatic childhood, hurt/comfort, fluff, referenced cheating. 

✖   —   a/n: beta read by my friend @ofoceansandtombstones​ <3 the title of the chapter is a reference to “oh daddy” by fleetwood mac.

chapter two: oh daddy

The only sounds you could hear when you got to the tennis court Zeke asked you to meet at was the ball being hit with the rackets and grunts from the two blond men you were expecting to see. Even if Reiner was a part of the swimming team along with Zeke, he always indulged his friend into playing with him, especially in the early mornings.

Neither Zeke nor Reiner realized you were there, too focused on the game, so you walked to the bleachers and sat down, forearms resting on your knees and hunched back as you watched the game.

Reiner was one of your only friends that liked being around Zeke, which really baffled your mind as the only one who knew about your dirty laundry was Porco. Yet, even after two years of being together, Annie wouldn’t even try to start a conversation with Zeke the multiple times he was over at your place. Armin, being the sweetheart he was, tagged along with her, only saying hello or goodbye while making a beeline towards Annie’s room. Pieck, Marcel and Bertholdt also made sure to avoid interacting with him, each of them in their own ways.

You sighed, pressing the bridge of your nose. You didn’t have the time to worry about it that morning.

A hard hit from Reiner made Zeke miss the ball and turn around to retrieve it. This gave Reiner the chance to look around, waving at you when he noticed your presence. You gave him a small smile and waved back.

“Your girlfriend is here.”

Zeke turned around quickly, his grey-blue eyes finding yours. You hated how a smile crept up your lips even after the disastrous night you had spent. His boyish grin and friendly wave would always bring warmth to your chest, and that spoke about how much your heart still belonged to him.

Your eyes were so fixated on each other you didn’t notice Reiner chuckling softly at the way you were looking at each other. Walking around the court, he called up Zeke, startling him and shook his hand. You didn’t listen to what he was saying but after a short conversation, Reiner turned around, waving at you again and started walking out the court. Zeke gestured to join him and you nodded, getting up and walking to the court with your hands in your pockets.

The moment you stepped a foot inside the court, Zeke started walking to you and met you halfway. He grabbed your face and placed a kiss on your lips, humming happily to himself. You kissed him back half-heartedly, your hands still secure inside your pockets without an ounce of need to put them around his neck like usual.

“You look so beautiful,” he said once he pulled away, holding your face tenderly.

You gave him a strained smile.

“Why did you call me so early?” you sighed.

Zeke’s grin didn’t waver, instead pressing a kiss on your forehead.

“Give me a second,” he said excitedly, before turning around and walking to the backpack that was against the wall. He left his tennis racket next to it and, after rummaging for a short while, he came back holding a baseball and a glove in his hand.

With a hand on the small of your back, he guided you until you were on the edge of the court. He carefully put the glove on your hand and ran back to the other edge of the court, both of you staying just on one side of the tennis court.

There was a part of you that wanted nothing more than to throw the glove away, stomp on it and demand answers from him but Zeke’s eager smile was nothing like you had seen before. He was really excited about this and even if you weren’t sure as to why , you felt compelled to follow along.

Zeke threw the ball at you and you took a couple of steps back to catch it with your glove. You winced in pain, your muscles still mad at you for drinking so much last night. You threw the ball as hard as you could but it didn’t reach your boyfriend, instead falling to the ground. Without saying a word, he shortened the distance between the two of you and threw the ball again.

A silent game of catch started between the two of you under the morning rays of sun. Seeing how happy Zeke was made you remember why you had fallen in love with him in the first place. He only smiled like that when he was around you, a huge grin on his face and a small couple of wrinkles on each side of his eyes. It was completely different from the way he smiled in social events and you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter knowing it was only you that could see him like this.

It had been almost two years since a junior that sat a few seats away from you at your History of Philosophy class had asked to take a look at your notes at the end of your second class. He confessed it was his third time taking the course as he has failed it twice already. It was his last chance to pass the course and he had seen you taking a lot of notes and answering questions right, hence he was asking for your help. You couldn’t help but giggle at the image of this tall junior asking for the help of a freshman but you agreed and even offered to help him prepare for the exam if he really needed it.

That was the first time he truly smiled at you. And since then you had been hooked.

From a hidden makeout session at the back of the library to him introducing you to his half-brother, you had suddenly become the ‘it couple’ on campus. Zeke always took you out to social gatherings along with his classmates, presenting you as his girlfriend and keeping an arm around your shoulders at all times, letting everyone know who you were with.

Time went by and he even took you to his grandparents’ house, a lovely old couple that lived on the edge of town. You had dinner with them and smiled as they went on and on about how much they loved and were proud of their grandson. As they told you endearing but slightly embarrassing stories about Zeke when he was a little kid, you couldn’t help but notice they didn’t mention his parents in any of the stories. When you went to the kitchen to help his grandmother bring the dessert you tried looking for a picture of his parents and didn’t find it either. But you knew better than to ask.

The conversation ran long and when you two noticed, it was already too late to drive back, so you both decided to stay at their house for the night. After his grandparents had gone to sleep, you sat in front of the chimney, sitting next to each other, your head on his shoulder and enjoying the soft music coming from his phone. Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Rumours’ album was one of Zeke’s favourite albums and it was slowly starting to become yours as well.

A sniffle distracted your thoughts.

You pulled away immediately, kneeling and holding his face tenderly. It seemed Zeke had been crying for quite some time now and your eyes filled with worry.

“Baby, are you okay? What’s wrong?” you whispered, your thumbs wiping the tears running down his cheeks to his beard.

“I miss him,” he mumbled.

“Your dad?” you asked softly.

Zeke shook his head and averted his gaze from you. You turned his head back to you again and pressed a kiss on his forehead.

“You can talk to me, Zeke. Stronger together, right?” you said with a soft smile. He reciprocated it with a small nod.

Words fell from Zeke’s mouth like a broken dam, tears falling from his eyes quicker than you were able to kiss them away. You listened to him in silence, your fingers running across his dark blond locks, trying your best to soothe him as he tripped over his own words, painting a picture of his childhood.

He told you about their parents and their strong alliance with a political party when he was a kid. How they would talk to him about the party’s history and why he should be on their side, often getting irritated at him for not remembering all the details. He blamed himself for being too young to understand, for not paying enough attention when they talked to him about it. When a chance arrived for him to apply to a scholarship for middle school in a very prestigious private school, both his parents registered him, saying he should study hard to get that scholarship so he could start talking about the political party to the sons and daughters of the high class, so more people could support them.

But Zeke had never been good at school. He reminded you the reason you had met was that he had already failed a course twice, only salvaging it because you tutored him. So when he was ordered to get that scholarship, he studied day and night, sometimes not even going to bed because he wanted to make his parents happy and going to school without having slept even for a minute. But his scores were still low, igniting long and loud fights between his mom and dad, making him silently weep inside his bedroom as he listened to how much of a disappointment he was.

“You’re not a disappointment,” you interrupted him. His eyes that had been set on the chimney turned to you and he lifted the corners of his mouth.

You knew he didn’t believe you.

“They were taken by the police a few days before my scholarship exam. Turns out the political party they were into was… a bit radical.” He didn’t comment further and you thought it was best not to ask for details. “So I came to live with my grandparents. I was enrolled in public middle school and got a sports scholarship to get into university, hence why I’m a part of the swimming team.”

“Are they still…” your question died in your lips.

“In prison? No,” Zeke sighed, taking his glasses off and passing a hand across his face. “They got out after a couple of years. My mom died in a car accident shortly after and my dad remarried Eren’s mom. He lives with her now. Honestly, she’s a very sweet woman, she has always been kind to me. I don’t know how she stands him,” he said with a small chuckle.

“Even so, it’s okay to miss him, you know? Families are… complicated. So it wouldn’t be wrong for you to miss him from time to time.”

“I meant I miss Ksaver,” Zeke said, a sad smile on his lips. He took your hand in his, playing with it absentmindedly. “He was my science teacher at elementary school. He noticed how much I was struggling and how little sleep I was getting. He offered to tutor me some afternoons and we always ended up playing catch for a while before I had to go home. I think I was only able to go by because I could always look for spending my afternoons with him. We kept in touch when I went to middle school and he was always willing to help me out whenever I needed help with my classes or with the girls,” he said, a chuckle escaping his lips. “He lent me his jacket for my first date and he was the one I told about my first kiss with a girl in high school.”

You smiled sweetly, squeezing his hand softly.

“I wish I could have introduced you to him. But he… died, a couple of weeks after I started uni. Cancer. I never knew,” he said bitterly, biting the inside of his cheek. “So being here, listening to my grandparents tell you stories about when I was a kid… just made me remember him, you know? And shit— I really miss him.”

That night when you went to bed, you made sure to hold him a little tighter as he laid his body on top of yours. The feeling of his beard scratching your skin as he kissed your neck made you claw your nails on his muscular back. The room was filled with the sweetest breathy moans as you tried your best to be silent so you didn’t wake his grandparents up.

He pressed a long kiss on your lips before getting off of you, rummaging through his pants and trying to find a spare condom in his pockets. You waited as he put it on, fingertips gently tracing his forearms as a subtle reminder you were still there. Zeke hovered over you with a loving smile, his grey-blue eyes locked in yours making you feel as if you were the only woman he had ever even glanced at.

He slid into you, your lips parting as your body adjusted to his length. He started at a calm pace, his pelvis rubbing just right against your clit, making you see stars every time he moved. You held tightly on his muscular arms, moving your hips as you desperately craved for more.

It wasn’t long until he was pulling out of you, turning you on your stomach and thrusting inside of you again. It didn’t surprise you, he had always shown a preference for fucking you from behind.

Zeke’s hands were holding your waist tightly while he kept bucking his hips against you, his hot breath tickling your ear. The low grunts coming out of his mouth as he buried himself in you were all you could think about as you muffled your moans on the pillow. His fingers were digging on your skin, for sure leaving marks for you to find the next day, a hobby you had grown fond of ever since you started sleeping with Zeke. He was relentless, hips rutting against you without mercy, each thrust getting deeper and deeper inside of you.

“Shit, you give it so good to me, baby,” he grunted, bitting down on your shoulder. You whimpered, closing your fists on the sheets as you tried to arch your back even more to him. “Yeah, just like that— such a good girl to me.”

The way he increased his rhythm for a few seconds and then stilled behind you let you know he has reached his high. You felt as he rolled away from your body, lying on your side with a content smile, lips parted as he tried to regain his breath. You smiled softly at him and caressed his cheek with your knuckles.

Maybe it was a stretch, but you wished to have the power to stop him from ever getting hurt again. You wanted to protect that smile at all costs, not even letting the cold air touch him or anything that could ever threaten his well-being again. It was at that moment that you decided you would make sure he was the happiest man he could be as long as you were there.

As you saw Zeke smile as he threw the baseball, you remembered your vow. He was really the prettiest when he smiled. After your last throw, he caught it and gestured to you to come closer. He kissed you once again and this time you melted in his touch, the familiar taste of his lips taking you back to that night in front of the fire. He put the glove and baseball into his backpack and took your hand, placing a small kiss on the back of it.

“C’mon. Let's get breakfast.”

Finding an isolated spot on campus was easy, both of you sitting down under a tree. On your way there, Zeke had bought a couple of juice boxes from a vending machine and once you had gotten comfortable on the ground you realized he had packed a couple of sandwiches for both of you. You took one and smiled at him as a thank you.

“Have you thought about trying out for the baseball team? Bet you would do great there,” you commented, taking your first bite.

“I… I honestly haven’t played in forever,” Zeke said, shaking his head. “Hell, I hadn’t played like this since Ksaver died.”

“What changed?” you asked softly.

“Found this baseball while looking through my tennis stuff this morning as I was leaving to play with Reiner. So I brought them with me because…” he made a pause, looking down at his sandwich. “I wanted to play with you. I wanted to— to share this with you. You know how much it means to me and I couldn’t think of anyone else I wanted to do this with after all these years.”

You smiled at his words and right when you were leaning to kiss him, the memory of Yelena leaving his house hit you. Right. You had seen them, how had you forgotten about this?

Zeke noticed the way your smile dropped and furrowed his eyebrows in concern.

“I saw her kissing you,” you said, in a makeshift stern voice. Zeke’s frown deepened.

“What?”

“Yelena. I saw you kissing Yelena last night when she left your house,” you said, the pressure on your chest making it hard to talk. You took a deep breath, trying to alleviate it.

“Wait, wait, last night? Where were you?” he asked, confused.

“I— a few houses away. I wanted to say hi but I saw her and— I saw you two kissing, Zeke, aren't you going to say anything?” you demanded, your voice breaking at the end.

“Baby, I was confused as to why you were saying this because we didn’t kiss. I have never kissed Yelena in my life.”

“Zeke, I saw you,” you said in a pained voice. “I fucking saw you and—”

“Wait, was that why you called?” he interrupted you. “I’m sorry, baby, I really am. I’m just having trouble understanding because we never kissed. The closest thing to that happening was Yelena kissing my cheek goodnight and that’s it.”

“But I—”

“You just said you were a couple of houses away. Don’t you think you could have confused a friendly kiss on the cheek with her kissing my lips? As if I would ever let her,” Zeke said, taking a sip of his juice. “She knows how much I’m in love with you. Hell, I’ve even told her how I plan to marry you once you graduate.”

You felt your cheeks heating at his words and then immediately shook your head, trying to focus.

“Porco saw you too.”

At this, Zeke’s calm expression turned into a disgusted one.

“Baby, please,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. “Porco will say anything to get you away from me. You know he’s in love with you, right?” he asked. You averted his gaze, looking down at your sandwich. “He’s so obvious about it. He’ll say anything to make you doubt your relationship with me enough for him to get a chance. Bet he kept insisting on you leaving me after you mistakenly believed Yelena kissed me last night.”

Memories of Porco’s arms around your body and his hazel eyes looking at you as he kissed your palm crept inside your head, guilt leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. Zeke was right. You were a few houses apart and all you had seen was her kissing the corner of his mouth, never a full kiss on the lips. And on top of that, you had been drinking a lot. There was a big chance you had perceived the moment differently and… Porco had definitely egged you on your distrust.

“You did nothing wrong,” Zeke assured you, taking one of your hands in his. “You trust people too much, you’re too good. But please don’t believe Porco’s intentions are innocent in any way.”

You nodded, keeping your head down. At this, Zeke scooted over to your side, grabbing your face gently and kissing your forehead. You smiled at his action and lifted your face until your lips met. A chaste kiss was exchanged, making the both of you smile.

“I’m sorry for… insisting on this but can I ask you something else about last night?” you asked in a small voice.

Zeke nodded. “Sure, anything that will make you feel better.”

“Why was Yelena with you last night? Why did she leave so late?”

“Yelena was going through a rough time, stuff with her family and the fact she likes girls,” Zeke explained, biting down on his sandwich. “Her family is very religious so it’s… a touchy subject. She needed to talk and we did just that— talk until she was feeling better.”

You nodded, still with a small frown on your face.

“But I asked you, I— I called you and I asked if the movies were fun by yourself.”

“And I told you I always preferred watching movies alone,” Zeke reminded you. “I didn’t lie, I really do. I’ve told you this before. Besides, I didn’t just want to air out her business. It was private for a reason.”

“But her Instagram—”

“Darling, don’t mind her. Please, as far as I know, she could have made that post in case her family saw it. She’s not even out on campus, so… I don’t know,” he shrugged. “But don’t think about it too hard. She’s my friend but trust me when I say she’s not worth your time.”

You felt stupid. So damn stupid for ever believing Zeke was cheating on you. All of Yelena’s Instagram photos made so much sense now that you knew she was trying to present herself as straight. Surely you would have preferred her to use any other guy than your boyfriend but… it just made sense. Since Zeke was the only one that knew about her sexuality, she made sure not to foolishly lead him on since he knew it was all a charade.

And the fact Zeke wasn’t asking about Porco— God, you didn’t deserve him. You had just admitted to being outside with Porco at three in the morning and he hadn’t batted an eye. He didn’t need proof or to interrogate you to trust you would never cheat on him.

“Stop worrying your pretty head around it. We’re good, okay?” he assured you, nudging your shoulder playfully. “Let's just forget about this whole thing, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled.

Zeke took one last bite of his sandwich, shaking his hands to get rid of the crumbs. He scooted until his back was against the tree and pulled you by your wrist, content in how you were giggling as he set you between his legs, with your back on his chest.

“Thank you for meeting me this early without notice. When I found Ksaver’s baseball I just knew I wanted to share that moment with you,” he said, resting his chin on your shoulder and putting his arms around your waist. “I’m so weak when it comes to… remembering things from my past. But I know I can always count on you. You’re so much stronger than I am. Always have been.”

Your mind went back to Porco pushing you away after you tried to kiss him just a few hours ago.

“I don’t know about that,” you whispered.

“But you are. And that’s one of the reasons I’m so in love with you,” he smiled, pressing a kiss on your shoulder. “One of the reasons I plan to ask you to marry me as soon as you graduate. We’re stronger together, remember?”

Your heart fluttered at his words.

“Yes,” you nodded with a soft smile .”We are.”

[lepusrufus]

Lil' Mia and Miranda thing since I dragged you guys down the rarepair hell with me~

---

Lab equipment was really not meant to blend well within a lived-in home. And it didn't. The plush carpet on top of wooden floors giving way to the smooth lab flooring that squeaked under boots not appropriate for the setting created an odd contrast. Not that that was uncharacteristic for Miranda, any of her workspaces falling perfectly under the description of an organized mess, with particular emphasis on mess.

With Rose sleeping peacefully in the room generously, suspiciously so, provided by Miranda, Mia decided to stretch her legs by walking around the manor, the baby monitor connected to her phone. The building was relatively big, albeit quite old, tucked in the woods somewhere between the Beneviento house and the factory, with a tunnel conveniently connecting it to the labs running under the town. It had close to no spatial organization, bedrooms and labs and storage rooms alternating by patterns known only by the so-called goddess, or most likely not even by her.

Mia did not trust the woman. Not with the memories of the prison cell and the kidnapping of her daughter for experiments still fresh in her mind. But, the tiredness of motherhood and the odd loneliness that came with being the only two inhabitants of the house that were capable of coherent speech as of now, had her longing for some company.

It was an easy task finding Miranda, the soft cries of Eva guiding her down a short hallway to a lab door left ajar. Inside, the woman was sat at a desk, a laptop with half written reports and notes in front of her, pushed out of the grasp of the fussing infant in her arms. Miranda was far too busy trying to calm her daughter down enough to fall asleep to notice Mia leaning on the doorframe, curiously observing the scene. Oddly human, in her failing attempt to get her child to stop crying, when at any given time she could get anyone to kneel before her and bend over backwards to her every whim. Yet a small infant was giving her so much trouble.

"Need a hand?" Mia offered with a small chuckle. Should she even offer her help?

"I am fine thank you." But a slightly louder wail from Eva came with perfect timing to disprove her words.

Miranda's shoulders seemed to slump ever so slightly as her eyes closed slowly, the usual makeup replaced by dark circles, testimony to the long hours spent going through decades of research and reports while also caring for her newly reborn daughter. It was oddly bittersweet, to see a woman so dignified otherwise all but beg the small child to go to sleep so she could finish her work.

Work, Mia concluded, that was rather essential for the whole place, and also her home for now, to continue existing the way it was. With a sigh she walked up to the desk and gently stoked Eva's short brunette hair. "Here, let me hold her. At least until you finish typing whatever it is you're doing," she said waving a hand in the direction of the forgotten computer, who's screen had turned black by now.

There were a few long seconds of hesitation, but a weary glance at the mountain of files on the other side of the desk that she was yet to go through convinced Miranda to finally allow her daughter slip into Mia's arms. It took maybe five minutes of cooing and a one sided conversation made in silly voices to turn the cries into giggles, small hands trying to grasp at Mia's finger that was ticklishly caressing puffy cheeks. Exhausted from crying, Eva's eyes slowly fluttered shut and she was gingerly lowered into a crib set by the desk, one of the many scattered around the house.

Miranda watched the scene unfold with uncharacteristic softness slipping by the icy mask of her steely eyes. Even goddesses can be caught by surprise it seemed, and whether it was due to the apparent skills that Mia had with calming Eva down or at how she was willing to help despite their precarious position was up to debate.

"Shouldn't you be better at this," Mia asked, pulling one of the chairs closer to sit in. "I know it's been, what, two or three centuries or something but haven't you done this before?"

Her question was obviously poking fun for the most part, but Miranda couldn't help the tired sigh that crawled its way from the depths of her now useless lungs.

"No, actually. I haven't," she responded curtly as she grabbed one of the files and opened it in order to transcribe its contents in a digital file. "At least not on my own," she added upon remembering the numerous subjects she helped raise during her time working with The Connections.

"Oh? Did you have a sweet loving husband once upon a time? Do tell me more," Mia said leaning her chin on her palms as if she were a teenager at a sleepover talking about crushes, although the memory of Ethan clawing its way to the forefront of her thoughts made her grimace slightly, until she pushed it back down in the depths of her mind.

It was foolish perhaps, acting like that around a woman that could, and would with the right motivation, kill her in the blink of an eye. Truth be told though, Mia was bored out of her mind, so what better way to pass the time than push Miranda's buttons, especially when she seemed too tired to retaliate.

The so-called goddess grimaced, at least ten different reasons to find the thought outrageous flashing through her mind and, settling on the most obvious one, looked at her, one eyebrow raised. "I was a nun."

Mia leaned back in her chair, looking at the black head covering hanging from a hook behind the door, together with black robes. She had to wonder if they were the same ancient ones or if she replaced them every once in a while.

"Yeah, I couldn't tell," she chuckled. "A nun turned goddess. How ironic don't you think."

"Worshipping was never quite up my alley. And neither were men," she replied flatly, turning the pages in front of her and typing the relevant information in the file she had open on the screen.

Mia's eyes widened slightly with an amused oh. "So was she raised by the convent then?"

Was this information really to be given out? Mirada did not like talking about her past, or personal information in general. Gods did not need backstories, they simply were.

She sighed. "No, no. Her parents died when she was four and with nobody else to look for her, she was brought to us." Miranda gave a small shrug, pausing to type up decades old results on lycans. "I was the newest there, so the nuns dumped her on me. I was so mad at first, but she's always been such a brilliant little girl, even back then. She would ask for a bedtime story and did not complain when I'd start reading from one of the medical books I stole from the merchant. There was just something about her that made her grow on me."

With the paragraph done, she pushed her chair back, quietly so as to not have its legs scratch against the linoleum floor, and walked to another, smaller desk pushed against a wall. From there, she walked back to the crib where the small infant was sleeping peacefully, a small doll in hand. Doll that Mia recognized immediately, as an identical one was by her own daughter's sleeping form, back in their room. It was a small replica of Angie, plush and soft to the touch, unlike its real life wooden counterpart, the white dress made of delicate silk. Both toys had been made by Donna herself as gifts.

"But as you can guess, she was well past a toddler when she was placed in my care," Miranda finished, leaving the doll just by her sleeping daughter's side.

"So you suck with babies," Mia concluded with a grin. She would have laughed, but had enough clarity of mind to be quiet.

Miranda simply gave her a tired glare before rolling her eyes. She went back to her desk and opened a new file to be transcribed, this one on the reservoir's structure.

"I can care for them," she started, an odd almost imperceptible strain in her voice. "It just gets trickier when it's my own daughter and not an act."

Mia nodded absent mindedly, eyes darting to Eva. To see a woman with such power and ruthlessness, who could level the whole town to the ground if she so pleased, show such raw genuine affection towards the child made some of the notions in her brain crumble to the ground. Miranda was still the same woman who, ironically enough, experimented on more children than she cared to count, but then again Mia was also a willing participant in said experiments so was she really that much better?

She definitely was, Mia concluded, choosing to ignore a small pang at her heart when she watched all the ice in those gray eyes melt into tenderness while looking at her daughter. Instead, she started toying with one of the many pens scattered on the desk.

"Since I'm staying here, I don't mind helping you out with her," Mia said quietly, keeping her eyes on the small giraffe doodle she was doing on a napkin.

It wasn't for Miranda's sake really. She simply wanted the best for Eva, the child completely innocent unlike the atrocities committed by her mother throughout the last few centuries. Besides, it would be nice for Rose to have a friend not unlike herself, given the yet to be understood power both girls possessed.

"There's no need-"

"Consider it a thank you for letting us stay here, without a sniper pointing at my daughter's head at all times," Mia finished, a slither of ire slipping into her tone on the last words, the memory of a rookie agent panicking and pointing his gun to Rose for the unforgivable crime of being a hungry crying child seared behind her eyelids.

Miranda sighed, an odd sense of relief washing over her. After centuries of trying to bring her back, you'd think the she would do anything to spend each and every second with Eva, not letting anyone else care for her in any capacity, but truth be told, the prospect of not facing motherhood completely alone, even if Mia was helping her solely out of some sense of obligation, did not sound half bad.

"As you wish," she finally said, going back to the half written paragraph her mind drifted away from minutes earlier.

[octopus-reactivated]

Title me Miss

You remember Decima? If not, here she is.

Tw/cw: Pet whump. legal slavery, stress position, maybe? low self-esteem, dehumanisation, unreliable narrator, derogatory language

__________

The cage was small, much smaller than cages usually used in stores. He had to bend while kneeling. His back hurt and he wanted to lay down, curl up on cold floor, but then he wouldn't be able to get at kneeling position fast, and if someone would look at him, and see he isn't even kneeling, then he won't be bought and taken to new home and new Master and it’s not like his chances were high to begin with.

He had to stay in this uncomfortable position. Of course stupid Pet like him deserved anything better, anyway.

__________

That's bad - thought Paparazzi realising the celebrity saw her taking a photo of him. Except that she wasn't a paparazzi, and he wasn't a celebrity.

Caretaker quickly turned around trying to walk away without getting into a confrontation. It was most likely that she would be able to get away, and even if man would demand to delete photos, she already switched memory cards, so the evidence was safe.

She took a glance into a reflective surface. Yep. Mr. Politician was following her, and even pointed at her. Rude. She hid behind the nearest corner, taking her jacket off. Then she hopped into the closest shop and got wig off - good thing she actually decided to start using them. She walked into the furthest part of the shop, hiding clothing, wig and camera in a bag and done! Caretaker can be a different person now! It took her 15 seconds no more. Still far away from a perfect time of 7 seconds, but most likely 15 seconds would be enough.

Caretaker calmed herself down, and crunched behind a cage

And then she saw where she was. A “Pet” shop. She realised There was a human in a cage, and he looked at her with hopeful eyes. Oh no. She suddenly felt guilty. She never was brave enough to go after a big company. Did this combination of events happen to show her what happens to people because she refuses to take action... Even if this action is just spying on corrupted politicians?

She will have to pull herself together and inform Justin she's ready to hunt down big fish.

Caretaker stayed a little longer, until she decided it was safe to go. She stood up and at that moment a man in a cage whimpered. She looked at the boy. He had teary eyes. Was it because she didn't want to buy him? Why would anyone be sad for not getting bought? Maybe Pets were punished when someone decided to leave them? It made no sense, but common sense probably got beaten out of them. Whatever it was, the boy was authentically sad.

"I'm just... looking at the description, don't worry" she sent him a reassuring smile. What the what was she doing? She's not here to buy anything? Maybe she would be able to steal him? No, she's a simple photographer playing spy, not a thief. And THAT would be illegal, and she can't have a criminal record. Caretaker looked at papers glued to the board over the cage. Age, physical attributes, placing of scars, training facility, 'one previous owner' note, price - cheaper than she would expect for a human being- what he was trained to, blablabla...

"Interested in-" without thinking, she turned around and punched the owner of a voice in the stomach. He bent in half. Only then she realised it was one of the employees.

"I'm so sorry i didn't mean to hurt you, you terrified me" she apologised quickly, and she meant it. She really was sorry for punching an innocent person. Oh wait, this guy works at Pet store. Nevermind, she's not sorry. Unless that would make a fuss and affect her reputation. Then maybe a little.

Employee straighten up

"You're stronger than you look like" He said, quite impressed.

"Thank you. I didn't meant to use that strength on you"

"No problem, it was my fault anyway. I tend to walk quiet" He said, but to be honest it sounded a little forced. Later on he will trash talk about her to his friends for sure. "Anyway i was meant to ask if you're interested in this Pet"

"Well, I am considering... "

"We also have many others here, or you can visit our website and..."

"No thank you... I think… I think I will talk to my friend, he's like 78% of my impulse control. I will be back in a few minutes."

"Of course if you want to discuss it with someone..." Employee looked disappointed, but he also didn't want to come out as pushy, so he didn't stop her.

When she was walking away Pet sniffed, and an employee kicked cage saying something angrily. He switched from servile to cruel in seconds. Disgusting, absolutely disgusting. She will stop this. But first she had to make a call.

__________

Pet was waiting, hoping for the impossible, and then- then someone walked in and looked at him! Mistress with exotic blue hair! She was looking at him! Maybe she will pet him and decide he looks adorable and take him? He tried so hard to look cute!

Of course it wasn't enough. Mistress stood up. Why would she want a disgusting, horrible Pet like him? He whimpered and shut up immediately. He didn't get permission to make a sound. Bad, untrained Pet.

"I'm just looking at the description, don't worry," Lady said. Of course, you stupid mutt. Humans won't just decide by looking at face, they would want to know... all those important stuff written in his document, that he was to stupid to understeand.

One of the Masters came and talked to Lady... but she just punched him! And the Master was in pain, but still didn't get mad... Did it mean that Lady was so cruel she wanted to hurt even other humans and powerful enough to get away with this? Pet trembled.

Master tried to convince her to purchase one of Pets, him or some other, that was less useless, bu the Lady apparently didn't liked anything, so she used banal excuse even dumb Pet was able to look through and left.

He tried not to cry.

Master kicked his cage.

"Can't you even try to be less hopeless?" he said angry

__________

"Justin, my beloved, my light, my braincell and my source of income i need your advice"

Sigh.

"What is this time?"

"So I was doing as you said, and you were right, they really met and there was a third man with them, and I got photos, but he saw me and..."

"Did you lose evidence?"

"Nah, don't worry it's safe like a baby in your mother's arms. The thing is I had to flee and I went into the first open store and there was Pet and he looked so sad, and I have to take him now, but..."

"I see, do you want me to gently sway you from making decisions you already know it's bad, or do you look for my genuine opinion about your capability of taking care of a pet with your job?"

"No no no no no. You misunderstood me. It was A Pet. And I want to take him, because I'm afraid they will beat him to death if i don't but I also don't want to give them my money. I don't want to contribute to the system, but stealing is bad and I don't know what to do anymore."

"Okay. Okay, wait a moment i need to think about it for second"

"Okay"

"Alright, I have an idea: big companies like that always have some dirt. So do like this: go to this store and buy him casually, but look for old ventilation, unsafely placed things or anything. Note that and take photos if you can, and we will later snitch on them for WHS violation or something"

"Okay. Thank you i knew i could count on you"

__________

Pet was kneeling in the cage. He could have a new home by now if only he wouldn't be so disgusting. The last customer was really scary, and cruel and even she didn't want such an awful Pet. He tried not to cry. Crying wasn't cute and he had to look cute even if it was pointless.

Then he heard quick angry footsteps. The blue-haired lady was back. What did it mean?

"I'M TAKING HIM!" She shouted. She had fire in her eyes. It took all of Pet's strength not to move away to the back of the cage.

She will buy him, and she was angry, maybe because the pet was scared of her, or maybe her Friend failed to control her impulse, or maybe it was something different, but the Pet will pay for that.

He was scared, but he will take all the pain if she would want him, please he wants to be wanted, even if it doesn't matter what he wants, take him away, he will be good...

Master rushed and took Lady to the back, where the documents were signed. Pet glued eyes to the doors. She still can change her mind when she will look deeper and realise how bad and ill-trained animal he is.

Or maybe she would like to have a broken animal to train up to herself? Was it about it?

__________

"Here are all his files. We have to make sure you had read them, especially the last page"

"Sure, give me some time"

"Also if you have any questions, i'm here to help"

"I don't have any..." she said, but then the idea hit her "actually, do you have any more detailed record of his training?"

"We do have records for all our pets, but we can show them only to the owner. We can email them right after purchase. They're quite large"

"Works for me" She said. Maybe the records will say more about his conditioning, and help with recovery. Anyway it won't do harm if she will have them.

Now onto reading stuff she will sign. Make sure the company won’t hide anything in small print.

It took longer than she would like to admit and hopefully she understood all the words just right… There was one page left.

There was something about being "ready to handle" and "responsiblebleble..." and

oh

Employee must have seen that she got to that part.

That part... changed the light she looked at the boy.

And she hesitated for a moment.

“May… may i know the circumstances of an incident?” she asked

__________

Master- no, the former Master now opened a cage and threw him on the ground. Pet felt his shoulder hit the hard floor and he holded cry in .

"Looks like you got purchased after all. Unbelievable. Ayway, how long do you think it will take for you to mess up and get returned?" former Master said. Pet was stupid, yes, and he had trouble learning rules but he knew that he can't break them now, and he wasn't allowed to speak

"Answer me you dumb Pet"

now that was an order

"A- a month maybe?"

"Ha! you aim high. I doubt you will be able to last two weeks"

Pet didn't want to go back at all, but if the former Master says he won't be able to enjoy new home for longer than two weeks then it was true. He had to bear Mutt for so long!

He took off one collar and put on another. It was so soft, softer than a pet ever had. Finally he grabbed him by the shoulder he felt on and took to the new owner.

"See you soon," former Master whispered to Pet.

And there she was. New owner. The scary Lady. Pet trembled.She didn’t clipped a leash or grab him by hair, instead she put her arm around him. Didn't she want him to have even this piece of freedom? Or was she afraid he would try to run away? He won't, he will be good and Pet hoped he would be allowed to speak to tell he will be good. But he wasn't allowed so he just quietly walked by her side. He couldn't crawl with her holding him, will he be punished for walking on legs like a human?

They walked outside. The sun was so nice, and the air was fresh. But he knew it was not to enjoy, he wasn't allowed to enjoy those things.

"We will have to wait here for a while. My friend - the one I mentioned before - will give us a ride. Anyway, what's your name?"

Was he tested already? He knew how to follow rules, he could follow them...

Owner looked at him in scary silence

"Oh. I forgot. You can speak. I wouldn't ask if i didn't expected any answer"

Oh no. Oh no no, they didn't even get home, and he disappointed Owner already.

"I don't have any name, Mast- Mistress"

“Hmm well then how did the.. shop employees call you then?”

“Disgusting, Mutt, Dirty…”

"That won’t work. We have to give you a real name. And you can call me by mine. I'm Decima. 'Mistress' sounds like some annoying character from a historical drama. But if you feel uncomfortable without honorifics then you can title me 'Miss'. But I prefer to be referred to by name, okay?"

"Yes, Miss Decima"

[morizoras-cave]

Misunderstanding (Request)

Chris Evans x f!teen!daughter!reader, Jaeden Martell x f!reader

Genre: fluff!

Request Description: would you ever do a daughter!reader with Chris Evans? It’s completely fine if not but I was thinking one where y/n is dating Jaeden Martell and they’re at the endgame premier but decide to sneak off halfway through the movie to take pictures and have fun outside. Chris takes it the wrong way and thinks they were doing something else :)

Warnings: language, mentions of sex

(A/N): i was ATTACKED BY A SPIDER WHILE WRITING THIS 

“Why do we have to go on the red carpet again?” you mumbled grumpily. You and Jaeden were holding hands at the backstage area of the Avengers: Endgame premiere. You were in a line waiting to exit because there were too many celebrities at this event to count. 

“Well, Y/n, let me see,” he wondered, and you groaned because you knew he was about to make a sarcastic remark, “You have to because you’re Chris Evans’ daughter, and I have to because I’m your boyfriend.” 

“Wow! I can’t believe I didn’t remember that!” you and Jaeden giggled. You hated the red carpet part, sure. Having grown up as Chris Evans’ daughter, you’d grown to hate press, especially since you had no interest in being a celebrity. But you couldn’t help but love the moment anyway, just because you were with Jaeden. God, why’d you also have to fall in love with a celebrity? You’re hopeless!

“You two! You gotta go out now!” A lady ushered you two out of the backstage area, and were immediately greeted with countless cameras. You gave them all a strained smile, and the two of you started walking down the seemingly endless carpet. 

“Huh,” you said, “This carpet is rather purple.”

Jaeden didn’t respond, so you looked up at him, to see him staring at you lovingly with a small smile on his lips. “It is,” he said, and something about the way he was staring at you made you blush. 

You and Jaeden walked the entire red carpet, seeing both journalists and fans (and a shocking amount of celebrities, note: “Is that Miley Cyrus?!” and “Oh my god, I think I just saw Natalie Portman!”). Then you impatiently watched the cast introducing the film and talking about making it. Your dad smiled down at you and Jaeden multiple times. 

Although, and you would never admit this to your dad, it was a little bit boring. You and Jaeden had a hard time staying concentrated, but that was just how everything was with you two. You were so obsessed with one another, that you were always in your own little bubble, no matter where you were. It was both endearing and insufferable. 

Finally (after what was possibly years) they started the movie. At first you had no trouble just watching it. But then the part about you and Jaeden’s romance that was insufferable kicked in. 

You were just playing with Jaeden’s hand. Nothing distracting at all. Well not for you. Jaeden could burst with happiness, feeling you playing with his hand and poking his fingers. He looked at you again with that stupid adoring smile on his face. And then you looked at him, with that same smile, and suddenly none of you payed attention to the movie. 

Now, you were rather playing around quietly and poking each other and having fun suppressing your laughs. Then when you were certain you had missed a solid amount of the movie, you whispered: “Do you wanna just leave? We can watch this some other time.”

And Jaeden agreed, so you both sneaked (terribly) out of the cinema and made your way into the parking lot.

Now, don’t you think that dear ol’ dad did not see this. Chris had been glancing at you and Jaeden every once in a while, as he sat much higher up in the theater. He unsurprisingly saw you and Jaeden messing around. 

Then, to his horror, he saw you leave. And he panicked. Hard. Chris had worked with Jaeden before and he trusted him, of course. I mean, he was a sweet kid. But did he trust him this much? I mean, surely you guys weren’t- Oh god, oh no. 

“Are you okay?” Scarlett asked, touching his arm in worry. Chris nodded, but he was in no way, shape, or form okay. Jaeden and you weren’t- You wouldn’t! You were responsible and you wouldn’t- Not here- Not-.. 

“I gotta go,” he whispered to Scarlett, standing up from his seat. You would not have public sex at the Avengers: Endgame premiere! In his head, that was undoubtedly what you were doing and he did not like it one bit.

He was jogging out, and simultaneously whispering a steady chant of “nope, nope, nope, nope, nope.”

First he searched the men’s bathrooms and then, reluctantly, the women’s bathrooms. Thankfully, everything was almost empty since the movie was playing. He only ran into one lady in the bathrooms, who seemed confused, thrilled, scared, and happy that he was in the lady’s bathroom all at the same time.

Then he heard your laugh near the entrance and he bolted out of the door and into the parking lot. 

It was getting dark at this point, cold air hitting Chris in the face. He snapped his head around for a moment, and then his eyes landed on you.

Words cannot describe the amount of relief that flooded his body when he saw you. You were fully clothed, composed, and smiling as you took a silly picture of Jaeden with your phone. He sighed out in relief.

“Oh, hi dad,” you smiled at him. You and Jaeden ceased your activities, turning to him awkwardly. “Sorry we left, we just-”

“Don’t worry about that! Just enjoy yourselves- Uh, not too much! Just keep taking pictures and stuff.. Laughing.. Joking.. Kid stuff!” Chris went on, laughing nervously. You and Jaeden exchanged glances. 

“Anyway! Gotta go! Big premiere!” was all he said and then he dashed away, leaving you and Jaeden to stand in confused silence for a moment. 

All there could be heard was the evening and the distant bustling of the city. 

Then, both you and Jaeden burst into uncontrollable, explosive, and painfully loud laughter. 

“Did he- did he think we were..?” Jaeden hiccuped, as both of you doubled over, stomach hurting from the laugh. You nodded, eyes watering. 

None of you stopped laughing for a solid 10 minutes, the absurd situation just absolutely joyous to you. It was safe to say Chris trusted you both a little bit more after that, but don’t think he won’t burst through any other doors when he suspects you two! 

Either way, all he wants is for you two to be happy, no matter if that means being annoyingly happy together, leaving premieres to do dumb shit, or leaving premieres to do.. other dumb shit. 

Your dad loves you and trusts you, and even if he does something goofy like at that premiere, you still love him and know that he doesn’t mean anything by it. After all you are a semi-responsible woman. Semi..

___________________________

Tag List:

@hera-the-writer @marvel-madness @40srogcrs @whatthefuckimbisexual @snarky–starky @garbage-potato @eviemarvel @lozzypoz321 @allthecreativeonesaretaken @missamericana713 @rororo06 @shady80smusicsingercolor @ireadfanficforfun​ @deephideoutmilkshake​