#and i really appreciate hearing him talk very openly about struggling and getting the help he needed. i bet other people will as well

[teethkick]

really lovely article about ethan bear and his time in the NHLPA player assistance program ♡

[myhiraeth]

@noblehcart sent: kisses styxxliese any au (and i’ll generate a number for how / where my muse kisses yours)  17. an awkward kiss after a date gone wrong [arranged marriage au]

It was their first time being allowed somewhat alone since their first meeting; the first time they were allowed to speak away from the distrustful eyes of her brother and the assessing gaze of her sister in law, away from the excited expectation in his father’s blue eyes and the derision in his mother and sister’s. Hopefully Liesel and her family had been too busy judging him to notice exactly how many pitchers of wine his mother had made her way through during dinner last night. Hopefully they would forgive him his sister’s incessant chatter about being a wife of Apollo, as though being one of the god’s haram was really something to be bragging over.

How could his sister think she was special when Stefan walked with the confidence and purpose of the god Ra, when his wife watched the world around her with the careful, knowing consideration of Isis- when his betrothed carried herself with the intelligence, poise and dignity of Athena herself? That his sister managed to be pretty enough and titled enough to be offered up as a incubator to a god seemed a pittance compared to the gifts bestowed on the Ivanovs own genes.

All the more reason to worry that his family may scare off Liesel, or at the very least lead to her family disapproving, which may be worse if she were as close to them as she seemed to be. So he had been willing to bide his time when they’d been permitted to walk the market, their only chaperones the two guards her brother had insisted on. No watchful family members, and he’d gotten a chance to get to know her better, to hear that soft intelligence in her eyes slip off her lips, talking about everything from reading to music to philosophy. She was easy to talk to, smiled often, covered for his nervousness- she was someone he could love, a feat he hadn’t thought possible with his father at the helm of his marriage choices.

But nothing gold could stay, of course. The first problem had come in the form of drunken, off duty palace soldiers- not that Liesel would recognize them as such-, too intoxicated to realize their cat calls to him weren’t being directed at his brother, and he’d hurried to set them straight and demand apologies to Liesel for using such crude language in front of a lady. Possibly it was only because of the actual soldiers at his back they realized their mistake, and though their apologies were less-then-genuine, they came quickly.

They’d been approached by no less than a dozen people, asking for audiences, pleading with Styxx over this thing or that thing, and he’d struggled to listen and help while never taking his focus off Liesel, struggled to appease his people without openly admitting in front of his hopefully bride-to-be that his father rarely met with the citizens of his own kingdom and left them desperate for answers and help.

The height of the day may be perhaps the runaway horse and cart that had almost run them over. Liesel managed to remain unscathed, but Styxx in his efforts to keep her out of the line of destruction, had been clipped by the cart and went sprawling into the ocean they’d been walking the dock of on their way back.

So now, tired, embarrassed, and drenched like he was trying to become a fish, he sheepishly led her back up the steps of the palace and to the wing that had been set up specifically for the Ivanovs. “I really must apologize again,”

You don’t need to keep apologizing. You didn’t push yourself into the canal.

“Still, you’re the one that suffered having to walk back with me like,” he holds his hands out as though to display his no-longer-dripping but still wet clothes. “This. I appreciate your tolerance.” He offered a small bow to her.  

I think you’re too hard on yourself.

She leaned in toward him, and he instinctively turned his head, assuming he had something- gods spare him if it were a spare strand of seaweed or something equally humiliating- on his robes, but was surprised when her lips, having aimed for his cheek, caught the corners of his own, and his face flushed a deep red as he bowed lower, tripping back a step so he could straighten once more. “My apologies, I thought you were looking at something and I-“ he takes a breath, forcing his voice calmer. “I didn’t mean to overstep, please forgive me.”

[stinkysam]

Porco Galliard - Through the years

Warning : Alcohol mention, death mention

Genre : Fluff

Synopsis : "i was thinking about the different love languages but i kind of drifted"

Reader : male (he/him)

It didn't take long for Porco to realize how physical you were once you became friends and got used to it pretty quickly as well despite acting like it was annoying him.

You’d lean against him when you arrive in the morning to chat for a few minutes before focusing on your work for the day.

Sometimes you won't directly go to him and he's going to wait and eavesdrop until you finally greet him. Though he denies ever doing it despite how obvious it is and will only admit it when you are dating, saying he doesn't want his boyfriend to forget he exists.

In a small committee, if Porco holds you close and lowers his head to hide his face in the crook of your neck, you know it's to rant about someone. It can be just a small insult under his breath, reacting to what they're saying, or a full explanation of what happened. He's quite passive-aggressive when he talks to certain people and doing this made you realize how little he actually tells them.

He also likes to annoy Colt that way, saying his name loud enough for him to hear to then lower his voice again and act like he's talking about him. Playing along, you'd hide your lips with your glass as if you were about to drink. Colt knows you're just trying to mess with him. It's not the first time. Yet, after a few drinks, he always ends up falling into it.

In all honesty, he's glad you're using some of your free time to take care of the warrior candidates as well. He knows it can be stressful at their age, especially with how determined some are, so it's nice to see them relax and act like kids. 

And he also really likes seeing you effortlessly throw a 12-year-old kid on your shoulders so they can see above the crowd and help you find what or who you're looking for.

You'd have Gabi on your shoulders, intensively scanning each face and street food vendors she could see while you'd carry with one arm each Falco and Udo, Zofia walking in front of you. She'd often try to speed up to lose you to get an unprompted snack but so far she has more losses than victories, blaming it on the two snitches you hold like sacks of potatoes.

It got a bit harder to spend time with Porco once he became the jaw titan but he eventually found a way to work around it. He spends a lot of his free time with you and likes to turn them into dates. Even if it's nothing big and just you two going on a walk, he tries to make it enjoyable and interesting.

While he may struggle to openly talk about how he feels he does try to make you feel appreciated though sometimes it sounds more like he’s stating obvious facts rather than complimenting you. He is proud of you and your accomplishments and not just because you’re his boyfriend but because he genuinely cares about what you’re doing.

Porco knows death is close despite not believing in the possibility of dying on the battlefield, so he intends on making his remaining 13 years of life a good memory for you once he’s gone. You know he is actually not ready for it to happen given that he refuses to talk about it. He even mentioned growing old together a couple of times.

He sometimes takes souvenirs of places he’s been to give them to you. Funny shaped rock, postcard, something he doesn’t know what it’s for, food, one sock. He lost the other on his way back and he has no idea where it went. He likes that you still wear it despite how stupid it looks.

He is very confident in himself and his abilities, yet he still gets flustered when you mix your compliments with kisses and loving touches as he doesn't know how to answer.

Porco doesn't care if you're not a food sharer but he does pride himself for being the bigger man since you only give him a couple of bites while he either gives you half of his plate or buys extra food for you.

He found out that each time he takes a bite of what you're eating and says he doesn't like it you make him try again, letting him get the good bits to retract his statement.

You're well aware of what he's doing and you even pointed it out once, listing all the times he's done it without giving him the time to find himself some excuses. And for once he took his second bite very quietly, looking away, refusing to let you see his embarrassed face.

When you got your own place you thought he would soon end up moving in with you since he kept inviting himself when you lived with your family, but he didn’t because he wanted you to be the one to move in with him. His main argument was “Because you’re my boyfriend”, word for word. Which didn’t make any sense given he was yours as well but since it was endearing you said nothing.

Porco refuses to say he lives with you even though he spends most of his nights at your place. He has no drawers but with all the pans and pots and daily life items he got you, it does feel like it. He likes your place, it’s nice and comfy and quiet but he’d rather be salty than admit it, complaining about how the walls look shitty while cuddling in your bed.

After the rumbling and the reconstruction, he manages to get it his way as you move to his place. It’s now your turn to complain about how the walls look.

[thestarrynightslover]

I'll Make It Okay for You - Part 2

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader

Word count: 2,765

Warnings: Discussion, yelling, some angst, mentions of drugs, drug abuse, drug withdrawal, rehab facility and insecurities/self-sabotage (very, very slightly, tho). 

Summary: You can read Part 1 here. What happens when (y/n) (y/l/n), Harvey’s secret crush and a junior partner at his firm, openly defies him in front of everyone? 

Disclaimer: I don’t own the show Suits, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: I think that this turned out better than Part 1? As always, I’m not sure, though. Just to make it clear here, I’m still on season 4 of Suits, so didn’t wanna get too much into any canonic details, self-preservation, lol. Anyhow, I hope you like it, and, ofc, feedback is always appreciated.

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

You and Harvey stayed in the embrace for a while, as you sunk in all the comfort emanating from him. He'd even started stroking your hair. The whole situation felt so intimate, that, by the time the two of you finally pulled away from each other, it was almost as if there was this cloud of embarrassment hovering around you both.

"Err… I'm s- sorry, I shouldn't have, um-" You started saying nervously but he cut you off.

"No, it's okay. And, um, I'm really glad you told me what happened… It's definitely a lot to deal with. And I was a complete asshole this morning. So I'm sorry." For a moment both you and Harvey just smiled at each other, sitting there in a comfortable silence. Until he decided to break it: "So, um, did you get her a lawyer? I'm assuming you wouldn't wanna represent her yourself because it could be problematic…"

"No, uh, yeah. It would be problematic.” You corrected him. “But the most I could do was make the cops get her a public defender, cause I called my dad when I was on the way there and he just wouldn't have me paying for anything else. He is a retired cop, so the pension isn't too great, the pride though… And I’m already covering Lisa's treatment because it's her best shot, but this…"

"And he wants to teach her a lesson." He completed what you were trying to explain.

"Yes."

"And you don't agree with him?" Harvey asked, almost reading your mind.

"Well, it's complicated. Because when I see what Kat's doing with her life… I get just as frustrated as my parents, and I really do want what's best for Henry." The fact that your sister wasn't what's best for her son was only implied. "But she's my little sister, you know?" As he nodded in understanding, you went on: "I wanna help her, but, at least for now, I think I'm just gonna wait and see if mom and dad change their minds… Which I think they will do! I mean, my dad was a cop for years. He knows what those places do to people. As much as we all desperately want her to get her shit together, I don't think that prison is where she'll succeed in doing so." You finished, voice filled with concern.

"Well, I don't think I would be as lenient, and compassionate, as you are, but I do see your point." Harvey told with a sympathetic smile. "Besides, she is your sister. And, trust me, I know what it is like to go out of your way to keep a sibling outta trouble." He added with a tired sigh, making you wonder how much you really knew about the man sitting in front of you.

"Either way, now I don't see much that I can do for her at the moment. Gonna try and have her attorney keep me posted, of course, but…" 

"Yeah…"

"I just… I can't help but feel guilty about all of this, you know?" You said, after having stood up and turned your back on him, finally letting on what was bothering you the most to the other lawyer.

"No, not really, I don't." He stated simply while you just looked back at him with a shocked expression on your face. "I mean, there's not a single approach on this that makes me think you're to blame for anything." He explained himself, standing up as well this time.

"Harvey, I-"

"No, (y/n), let me stop you right there. What I see here is a family going through a rough situation with one of its members. Then three of the other members just try to do everything they can to get out of the initial situation, while another one just keeps making more problems for her family. And, right now? Today? You walked out on your bosses, risking a lot, to take care of your nephew. So, tell me again, how is it that any of these things happening to your sister are your fault when you’ve done nothing but help everyone in that goddamn family of yours, huh?" He asked you in a sarcastic tone.

“Well, it is very much my fault because I’m her big sister! I should have been there for her! Advising her, helping her, just, just being her friend…” You confessed your regrets to Harvey. “But, instead, I was too busy making my career.”

“And what the hell’s wrong with that? Look, I’m a big brother too. I get it. Ever since we were kids our parents imbued us with the role of ‘the responsible one’, always telling us to look after the youngest… But, hey! If you just threw all of your work up in the air and left running every time your sister had a run-in with a problem, you wouldn’t have made it this far! Not in this field anyway!” He practically spit the words in your face, going to battle with your self-sabotage, which was a very new side of you for him. “And you’re a freaking great lawyer! One of the best that firm’s ever seen. So don’t be sorry that you didn’t sacrifice all of that for being better than the amazing sister you probably already were!”

“You simply can’t know that.” You stated in a low voice, not really knowing how to respond to everything Harvey had just told you. He really thought all that about you?

“Yes, I can!” He yelled back, stepping closer towards you. “I can know that for a fact, because,” he started again, his face pretty close to yours this time, “because, I’m beginning to finally understand, even if just a little bit, who you really are. And because I always notice all the little things when it comes to you, which, in my experience, is how you actually get to know someone. You know, the details.” He told you in the sweetest tone, giving you a charming-Specter-like smile, he leaned closer, if that was even possible, God, was he gonna kiss you?

You had to pull away slightly, just enough for him to get the message. And, boy, how you regretted it! Sure, normally, you’d have a ton of bad things to say about him, but after that night… It wasn’t really that bad of an idea, the one of Harvey kissing you. No, nuh-uh! What were you thinking?! If much, you and Harvey were beginning a friendship there! And you couldn’t, or wouldn’t, let some ridiculous thoughts about how great he smelled rob you from that opportunity! Your inner struggle was interrupted by him saying:

“Hum, I- I should probably go, right? It’s, um, it’s getting pretty late…” He said nervously. You should be relieved right now. Because this assures that things between you and Harvey (your new friend?) aren’t gonna go too off the railroads anytime soon.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll, uh, I’ll walk you to the door.” So why is it that you sounded almost disappointed when you said that? “You know what they say, you gotta walk people to the door if you ever want them to come back…” You joked a little, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yeah, right.” He shot back simply, with a small smile on his lips. “Bye, (y/n). Have a good night.”

“Thanks, you too.” You watched him turning around to leave when you remembered there was something else that Harvey deserved to hear from you. “Uh, Harvey!” You called out.

“Yeah?” He asked, turning back around to face you. And before you could even think it through one more time, you were already jumping in his arms, wrapping him in a tight hug.

“Thank you. For tonight. For everything.” You told him, as he slowly put his arms around your waist, hugging you back.

“It was no problem, (y/n), really. That’s what friends are for.” And, just like that, your day ⎼ turned into night ⎼ had gone from Earth to Hell, and, now, to Heaven.

                                                       ---

Around 7:30 in the next morning, as you gathered some of your work stuff, you heard someone knocking on the door. Who could it possibly be this time? You asked yourself while walking there to open it.

Once again you were surprised to be met by none other than Harvey Your-New-Friend Specter standing at your doorstep. With your supposedly locked-up little sister in tow. What the hell?

“Before you say anything,” he started, “this time I come bearing gifts!” He practically beamed at you, as Kat threw herself in your arms.

“Yeah- yeah, um, I can see that.” You stated, still very confused with the whole situation.

“Thank you so much for sending your friend to bail me out, sis!” Your sister squealed out. She looked so pale and thin; winter-like clothes on, even though it was only the beginning of the fall; and she was shaking. Effects of a rushed withdrawal, you guessed. “You’re the best! Now, where’s my little baby?” She asked you, as if everything that had happened was nothing.

“He’s, uh, he’s in a day-care facility. The best in the city, you have nothing to worry about.” You informed her, who seemed rather relieved to hear that news. “Can you, uh, can you please stay here for a minute while I talk to my, uh, my friend in the office, Kat?” You asked her with a calm smile on your lips.

“Yeah, of course. I’m not gonna break anything I promise!” She told you, sounding a lot like a wicked child.

“No, um, I know you won’t. If you want something to eat, please, help yourself.” You assured her, motioning to the kitchen.

“Oh, no! I’m not hungry! Mr.Specter took me to a diner before we came here.” She let you know, which just made you even more surprised, and confused.

“Oh, he did? Well, that was very nice of yours, Harvey. So, come with me?” You asked him in a sort of mockery tone while pointing to the room he’d just been in, the night before.

As soon as the two of you stepped into the office, Harvey started desperately: “(y/n), before you come at me for not running this by you first, just, please, hear me out for a second.” He pleaded with you, to which you just nodded your head. “So, last night. I heard what you said about your dad, and you don’t have to worry about paying me anything. I’m representing your sister as a friend of yours.”

“Wait a second. You mean you’re taking this pro-bono? Harvey, you do that and the whole firm is gonna know. And you promised.” You quickly accused him, even though you were very thankful for the way he just stepped up to solve one of your problems.

“I know! Let me finish, will you?” You nodded again while muttering an apology. “I’m not going to break your trust. And I’m not handling this pro-bono. The only people I’ll have to loop in are Jessica and Donna. And you know they won’t say anything.” He told you, but you were still a bit confused. “And, before you even ask, no, that doesn’t mean that either you or your family will be paying me anything. Also, I got your sister a spot in a top-of-line, very discrete, rehab facility, I have a friend over there, who said we can drop her off at any time. I just, um, figured that it’d be the best if she got professional help this time. Plus, on my talk with her, she agreed to sign papers that make you and your parents Henry’s temporary guardians. I really think that Kat wants to turn her life around this time, (y/n). She was very- Did I do something wrong? Because, err, you know me… I always find it easier to ask for forgiveness instead of permission, but, this time, I really did think that this would make you happy...” He trailed off with a confused look on his face while scratching the back of his neck

“Oh, I am happy.” You told him, still looking absolutely stunned.

“Then why, uh, why don’t you look happy?” He asked, sounding a bit hurt.

“It’s just that… I’m kind of surprised. How did you even think of all those things?”

“I, uh, it’s like I said yesterday, I notice things about you. And I really listened to what you told me last night. So I just started thinking about ways that I could solve this thing for you, ways that I could make you happy again throughout all of this storm.” He told you and it had to be the sweetest thing you’d heard from Harvey (hell, from anyone!) in your entire life. “But I understand that I overstepped, and I’m-” But since he just wouldn’t stop talking anymore, you had to cut him off in order to shut him up.

His eyes were in absolute shock for a moment, as he just stood reactionless in your grip. But then he got the message and pulled you closer, grabbing your waist tightly while your hands stood firmly wrapped around his neck. You were pretty sure that neither one of you was still breathing at that point, but you didn’t care. Because, God, his mouth tasted so good in yours, it was like they’d been made to kiss each other. The despair both of you were investing in the kiss was huge, but it was turning into a calmer kind of fire, as the air started becoming too necessary again. He pulled your mouths apart for a minute, you resting your forehead on his shoulder.

“You know…” He started, still catching his breath. “When I mentioned you coming at me, I hadn’t really envisioned this.” He joked, a victory smile on his lips.

“Ah, well, you know how upset it makes me when you simply won’t shut up.” You shot back with a shrug of your shoulders, smiling at him.

“Huh. Wish you would’ve shut me up like this every other time.” He mocked, earning a smack in the arm from you. “Ouch! Why’d do that?”

“Because you were being a dickhead, ruining our moment.” You gave him a fake irritated glance.

“Oh, c’mon! Tell me you didn’t think about it too!” He challenged, and you didn’t feel like giving him that kind of win at the moment, so you just pulled him back in for another kiss. One that may have lasted a little longer than it should have, considering that you two still needed to take Kat to rehab and, then, go to work so you could try and save your job. But, what could you do if he, and his body, and his mouth, and his eyes, and his everything were the only things that mattered?

As he rested his chin on top of your head ⎼ that was laid on his chest ⎼, you looked up, pulling away a little, him making sure you wouldn’t fall off the small couch. “Thank you, Harvey. For everything you did. For listening. For being here right now. For everything.”

“Don’t thank me, (y/n). You’ll never have to thank me for anything. I just want you to promise me one thing.” He stated seriously.

“What?” You asked, a bit hesitant.

“That, from now on, you’ll tell me all about it, every time you have a problem.” That was easy enough, you thought. But, you being you, simply had to ask.

“So that you can be here for me?” You questioned him with puppy eyes.

He just chuckled lightly. “Well, that too. But, mostly, so that I can make it ⎼ whatever it is ⎼ okay for you.” Your heart was on the edge of not being to take it any longer. What could have you possibly done to deserve that man?

“Okay, I promise.” You said, watching his expression begin to soften already. “But, only if you promise me the same. Because I wanna make it okay for you too.” While you thought Harvey was simply gonna say yes, he started laughing at you.

“Always the kick-ass corporate lawyer, I see.”

“Would you even have me any other way?” You joked back, more relaxed now.

“Yes, of course! I’d have you in any way you came to me. Which is why I promise too.” With that, you didn’t have any other choice but to kiss him again, because crying over the fact that Harvey Surprisingly-Romantic Specter was an absolute cinnamon roll was not an option.

Taglist: @just-a-girl-with-alot-of-issues​

[yandere-sins]

i just binged-read all of your BNHA works and omg... 🥲 you don’t understand the rollercoaster of emotions i just went through! can i please request a story of Kirishima noticing that Bakugou has a crush on his darling. then when Kirishima confronts Bakugou about it, things get heated/physical? keep up the good work, i love your writings! 🥰💗

Thank you so much for reading through them, I am so glad you enjoyed them! :D And thanks for requesting ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««     

“I don’t fucking know either!”

Loud. Terribly loud were the two voices shouting at each other in your room, the little bit of safe haven you owned, entirely disrupted by the two men arguing. It was only made worse by the fact that they were arguing about you rather than anything else, their attention involuntarily always coming back to you after every sentence.

You had long ducked away, slipped into the area between the wall and your bed, the only place you had claimed as yours ever since you were forced to live here. It was barely spacious enough for you to breathe in, but it was too small to force you out of as well, which you always appreciated. On most days, Kirishima would treat you kindly and with a strange understanding despite the situation and relationship you two had.

But just as quickly did his mood change, his tendencies to demand more than you were willing to give being a constant point of stress between you two. Hiding yourself back here was the closest to some privacy you had, and now than ever, you just wanted to disappear from this pitiful existence. You didn’t even want to hear about what they were talking, let alone witness how the conversation would go.

“Fuck,” Bakugou groaned loudly, rubbing his hands over his face. “Of all the people...”

“Yes. Of all the people, it just had to be my partner you fell in love with,” Kirishima hissed back, equally angered. You couldn’t even pinpoint for how long the two had been discussing this topic, but it left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth, as it seemed. Sighing quietly as to not draw more attention to you, you buried your head in your knees.

For the longest time, you had believed those two were good people. Sure, Bakugou was a hot-headed bastard sometimes, but together with Kirishima, who shone with his kindness, you three always had a lot of fun. When Kiri confessed to you, you had been so happy! What you thought was love probably was more like a deep friendship, but you didn’t say ‘no’ and went out with him.

But then the craziness started. It was subtle at first, and you confided in Bakugou, who told you, you were just imagining things. No one seemed to notice how Kirishima started to polarize your time constantly, how, when he wanted cuddles, he simply pulled you into an embrace even if you didn’t want to. How every problem was solved with ‘Just don’t go there anymore, you can stay here! I’ll take care of everything!’

You very quickly found out you had been wrong both with him being a good person and you being in love with him. But then, of all people, he still allowed Bakugou to come over! Where he kept you locked in his apartment all day while he played hero outside, he still allowed your friend to visit whenever. Seeing that Bakugou was not going to help you, no matter how much you pleaded with him to save you, broke your heart. It completely shattered you.

Honestly, you wanted to believe that you three had been friends once, but whatever happened to make the two into what they were now, it scared you. It frightened you so much that you barely slept at night, rarely managed to eat more than two spoons of your food, and rendered you unable to focus on anything if not ensuring you were safe when things got too much to bear. And now, your body shaking more than ever, you had to witness how even Bakugou seemed to have changed sides, and that scared you even more.

You thought he was just loyal to his friend by refusing to help you, but by god, he was the same as that maniac Kirishima.

“Look, I didn’t choose that either! But you knew I liked them way before you confessed!”

At that, Kirishima only clicked his tongue, unable to say anything in return to counter this claim. So it was right, Bakugou had liked you all along. All these things about Kirishima’s and your love life must have been so painful for him to listen to in this case. However, right then, as you overheard their conversation unwillingly, you didn’t feel bad for him even a second.

“I wish it was anyone else, but it’s them!”

“Well, are you sure?” Kirishima grumbled, and you kind of understood Bakugou’s frustration as his friend didn’t seem to want to hear the truth. “Yes, I am damn sure!”

“If that’s the case...” Kirishima sighed before you heard steps drawing closer. “[Name]? Can you come out? You know it’s rude not to show your cute face to our guest.”

Even if he spoke his words in a sugary voice, nothing about Kirishima could calm you. Slowly looking up at him again, you saw him reach his hand out to you, knowing fully well that he couldn’t get you out of that gap even if he probably wanted. The mood in the room was tense and full of heated tempers. Their back and forth had only made everything more awkward and uncomfortable as it already was for you.

Inwardly, you wanted nothing more than to stay in your hideout, hoping it would all quickly pass, but crossing Bakugou’s gaze briefly, you saw his brows only furrow more, and you wagered if taking Kirishima’s offer was better as long as he still asked nicely before either of them would lose their patience with you, too.

Slipping out of the space without taking his help, it wasn’t long before Kirishima picked you up anyway. The man had as much understanding about boundaries as you had about what even was wrong with him. He sat you down in his lap on the couch, waving Bakugou over, who reluctantly took a seat on the furthest armrest from you.

“Tell him, [Name]. You love me, right? You want to be with me, right?”

Opening your mouth, you wanted to protest, but Bakugou stole the words from you before you could talk.

“Bullshit! They’ve always been complaining because you suck at being a boyfriend! They could do so much better and be with me, right [Name]? Tell that idiot!”

You felt like a dog, with both owners screaming at their furbaby to chose them and go to the one it likes more.

Their back-and-forth continued, Kirishima swearing his love to you up and down while Bakugou praised his abilities to be better in... every way. Kirishima liked to remind you how much ‘fun’ you two had together and how much he did and would do for you in the future. Bakugou liked to argue with his friend, using insults and belittling comments about his plans. Neither made a very good impression, and their voices rose to a volume again, making you wish you had earplugs to drown out at least a little bit of their shouting.

Instead, you lifted your hands to your ears, cupping them as to drown out the sounds, hoping it was over soon. Why couldn’t they both leave you alone? Why did you have to end up in this situation, not once, but twice? Why did the two best friends you had turned out to be this crazy? Crazy about you?

There still were so many questions to be answered, and you curled into yourself as you spiraled down into overthinking everything that happened. From regrets you had, to disbelieve you still harbored, to the despair you felt as you couldn’t pinpoint when this nightmare would end.

You were so inside your own head, you didn’t notice how their voices slowly calmed down, their hearts breaking as they saw you so overwhelmed by the situation. Kirishima and Bakugou exchanged a few glances, and even in Bakugou’s serious and furious expression, there were hints of worries to find that only his friends could discern.

“How about you move in with us... and maybe they can make a decision then. Not that I’d just give them to you, but I can’t watch them being sad about us fighting. You always meant a lot to us.”

Huffing, Bakugou turned his head away, hiding the flustered red spreading on his cheeks. “I won’t share with you, you Dumbass! They’re mine. They love me much more than you freak!”

“Doubt it,” Kirishima chuckled as he brought his hand to your head, brushing over it comfortingly. He had never been afraid to say his opinion openly, a trait you had always found remarkable and remarkable stupid at the same time. “Whatever,” Bakugou grunted, standing up before storming out of the door without another word of goodbye, Kirishima sighing before he pulled you close.

“I hope this makes you happy,” he mumbled, not even knowing you weren’t listening anymore. “I’d do anything if it makes you happy.”

By the evening, a new roommate was sharing the apartment with you and Kirishima. They didn’t talk, neither at dinner nor before or after that. You didn’t mind the silence, but you did mind having to hold one hand of each as they decided to watch a movie, ever so often squeezing to gain your attention and giving you grins when you looked at them. As if that equaled making a decision which you liked better, just because they had a few seconds of your attention.

But even worse were the changes. The first thing Bakugou did was move the bed. Your hideout was no longer as he decided you didn’t need it. And where you had struggled to keep Kiri from you, you now were too scared to shove away Bakugou. Perhaps, you really had it nice with Kirishima. You pondered about it all night as you were squeezed between them, their arguing going deep into the early hours before they fell asleep, snoring away into your ears.

Would it have been easier if you had just chosen one of them?

Or would it be fatal to ever choose between them?

[regretthatsme]

Looney's Sister - Harry Potter x Fem!Lovegood!Reader

That's right bitches, bros, and nonbinary hoes. I'm back. I'm so happy that I finished a oneshot. AAAAAAHHHHHHHH! I'm sorry I've taken so long to post. But, it's here now!

Harry didn't know when his fondness for Luna's sister, Y/N, started. He just knew that he liked her a lot. They were quite good friends, actually. A few years ago, she saw him struggling with herbology, which just so happened to be Y/N's strong suit. It quite convenient honestly, especially when you consider the fact that Y/N was have issues in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

He knew from the start that his feelings for her were more than platonic. What he didn't expect was for him to fall so hard. But, how could he not when she was so perfect.

Her bubbly personality was so inviting and warm. Her eyes made e/c his favorite color. He adored her laugh; it sounded like a beautiful melody. Her smile was just as stunning.

Godric, I'm whipped, he thought. There was one issue, though. He couldn't for the life of him ask her out, ironic for a Gryffindor. What if she doesn't like me? How do I ask her out?

His mind would race into the late hours of the night, wondering how he would work up the courage to ask her out. He knew she wouldn't like something big and extravagant, for she had trouble processing lots of information at once, much like her sister. Her sister!

Harry wondered how he never thought of asking Luna before. I mean, their personalities mirrored each other almost perfectly. He quickly ran to the forbidden forest. Luna spent most of her time there.

"Hello, Harry." A dreamy voice called to him.

"Hello, Luna."

"Is there a reason you are here?"

"Umm... yeah." Harry's face became very hot suddenly, a stark contrast to the nippy weather that morning. "I-uh. I should probably come right out and say it, shouldn't I?"

"Yes, that would be most appreciated." Luna responded. Harry couldn't tell if she was sarcastic or not.

"I've fallen deeply in love with your sister, and I was wondering if you knew how I could ask her out."

Luna was clear shocked by this revelation. She thought for a few minutes before replying, "I appreciate your honesty, however I cannot say that I am too pleased with it."

Harry's face fell slightly. "What does that mean?"

"Harry, she's recently had her heart broken by another. I'm sorry, but I do not trust you with her love."

-*-*-*-

He knew he shouldn't be over thinking this. He knew that it was pointless. He knew it was only going to give him stress, but he couldn't stop as much as he tried. Who would dare hurt her? Her? The most caring, beautiful person in Hogwarts?

Needless to say, Harry's eyes were sporting some serious under eye bags the next morning.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Asked Hermione during breakfast, noting the discoloration under her friend's eyes.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"He was up late last night." Said his best friend and roommate, Ronald Weasley.

"No, I wasn't, Ron."

"Okay. Fine. You went to bed at a reasonable time." Ron said before turning to Hermione and mouthing No he didn't. Harry was about to retaliate before a small body sat down next to him. A dreamy voice rendered his speech effectively useless as a flush filled his cheeks.

"Hello Hermione, Ron. Good morning, Harry." She addressed each individually, as she always does. "How are we this morning?"

Ron smirked a small bit at his friend's face. "Oh, I'm splendid." He remarked, chuckling slightly at his friend's state. "What about you, Harry?"

Y/N seemed to perk up at the name. Her head turned to him, only now noticing the rosy hue on his cheeks. "Oh dear, you don't look so well." Her voice was distinctly quieter, almost as if she only wanted him to hear. Her hand slowly came up to feel his forehead. "You're absolutely scalding! And it's clear you haven't gotten any sleep."

She panicked slightly.

Ron tried to hold in a laugh. "Oh, yes. Harry was hacking and wheezing last night. It was horrible."

Harry's eyes were about the size of saucers. "What are you doing?" He whispered.

"Trust me." He mouthed back.

"He's in no shape to go to class. Someone must take care of him." Harry just realized what Ron was trying to do. Wanker.

"I would, but Hermione and I have a test first period." Hermione nodded too, quickly becoming aware of his scheme. "Looks like you're going to need to take care of him. I really wish I could help."

Y/N's eyes never left Harry's face. "Be sure to tell the teachers about Harry's predicament." She said as she dragged him out of the great hall, despite his protests. She knew the password was as she was a frequenter of the Gryffindor common room. He was led to his dorm and was forced onto the bed.

"Y/N, I'm gonna tell you one more time. I'm not-"

"Shhhhhh." She cut him off. "Harry, relax. I can't remember the last time you did." She did have a point. He couldn't remember the last time he had a stress free hour, much less day. "I'm going to go to the kitchen and whip up something. Get some rest, alright?" He nodded his head. His eyelids slowly fluttered and closed. He didn't really dream, but he felt a sort of presence. It felt like a giant hug.

He didn't know how long he had been asleep, but he woke to the sound of Y/N closing his bedroom door. "I made a soup with some clowort root mixed in. It should help with your symptoms." She said. "And, there is some water to wash it all down."

"You never cease to amaze me." He said rather bluntly in his sleepy delirium. He took a spoonful of the soup. It tasted quite like the food in the great hall, but there was something distinctly different from it. There was an unmistakable taste of... home. He quickly went for more.

"Slow down, Harry!" Y/N's volume raised ever so slightly. "Consuming large amounts of clowort root can lead to some unwanted side effects."

"Like what?"

She gestured for him to lead forward, as if telling him a secret. "People tend to make quite irrational decisions when copious amounts of clowort are in their system." She pulled back and gave a stern yet loving gaze.

"I don't know. I've eaten a decent amount and I don't feel a thing." He said indifferently. She simply rolled her eyes and looked away from him.

"Hey. I uh... I heard from Luna that you had some trouble with a boy and I'm here if you need to talk or anything." He knew that he probably shouldn't invite his crush to talk openly about a romantic partner she had, but he would listen to her talk about anything and everything just to hear her voice.

"Oh. It's nothing. Just a stupid fling that hadn't even lasted a month." Y/N said, her eyes becoming more solemn looking.

"It's just... if I had a girlfriend," especially one as perfect as you, "I would treat her better than that."

"I can see the brash decision making has already taken effect." Y/N jokes lightly, but only was laughing at it.

"I'm serious, you know." He said, grabbing her hand and lacing her fingers through his.

"Harry, you're not thinking straight-"

"Ever since we met each other and you helped me with your helped me with my homework. You were so kind."

"Harry, please don't-"

"I understand if you don't feel the same way, I wouldn't be so keen on falling in love someone who nearly dies every other weekend either, but I needed you to-"

"Harry." Her voice was ferm enough to cut off his incoherent ramblings. Her thumb brushed against the back of his hand. "You're not well. You're saying things you don't mean-"

"No, I'm not-"

"Harry, I can't have my heart broken again." Her eyes held a certain glossiness to it that he hadn't seen before. Her voice was almost breaking. "You are amazing and sweet and beautiful and... well, words can hardly describe how much I admire you. But," Her eyes darted around the room, trying to avoid eye contact. "You're just doing this because you're sick and under the influence. You don't mean it-"

"Yes, I do!" Harry giggled slightly. He was getting a bit frustrated at this point. "What do I have to do to prove it to you?"

She looked deep into his emerald eyes. They say eyes are the window to the soul, and they weren't lying. Every emotion, every thought running through his pretty head, everything could be seen in them. It was so intense, she could only make eye contact for a few seconds.

"Nothing." Y/N whispered. Harry's head snapped to her. "I believe you, Harry." They sat in silence for a while, processing the revelation that just took place. It was a bit awkward. Okay, very awkward. The apprehension of the unknown was creeping upon them. Now what? Where do we go from here?

Harry was the first to make a move. He held his arm out, inviting her join him on his, rather small in hindsight, bed. She happily accepted and curled into his side. She was practically on top of him due to the size of the bed, yet he couldn't be happier. Neither could she.

Bonus:

"HARRY JAMES POTTER, WHAT ON EARTH DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING?" Y/N was positive that Luna's cries could be heard throughout the entire castle.

"Luna, please calm down-" She tried to console.

"GET AWAY FROM MY SISTER!"

[greenhappyseed]

BnHA 322 - Parallels and comparisons

Not gonna lie — the first part of this arc was really rough. Luckily, from 317 onwards we’ve had some jaw dropping, beautiful moments. This chapter came on strong with ALL the feels and ALL the imagery. (I’m not going to post those images because they really need to be read fully in context.) Bakugo and Izuku as their elementary/middle/high school selves, standing on puddles of water instead of submerged in a river, Bakugo bowing to Izuku and addressing him by his real name, Bakugo essentially telling Izuku that he is — and always has been — a hero, Bakugo racing to catch Izuku with both arms when he falls, Bakugo’s war injury bleeding as he “reopens” his childhood wound.

Here’s the most impressive part to me: Bakugo courageously lays it all bare in front of the class without demanding that they “watch him” or be his audience. He no longer cares about being vulnerable in front of them, so if they happen to be there it’s fine, but he’s not apologizing FOR them or FOR him — it’s something he has to do for Izuku. Bakugo may still have his eyes set on surpassing All Might, but damn if he didn’t just surpass Enji. And Shoto fucking knows it.

After such intensity from Bakugo, I highkey love that we DON’T get an immediate reaction from Izuku. Instead, Izuku is inspired to offer his own mea culpa. (As always, Izuku looks up to and imitates Bakugo before thinking about himself.) The class just watched Bakugo apologize for his worst, and now they’ll watch Izuku apologize for HIS worst. I mean, Izuku said, OUT LOUD, the exact thing DvK2!Bakugo accused him of — looking down on others. If Bakugo can get past his bullshit and recognize Izuku’s heroism, Izuku can apologize for hurting his classmates and recognize their heroism. With everything out in the open, Bakugo and Izuku are no longer “proper rivals,” but TEAMMATES. There’s still a long way to go until they’re effective as a team with the rest of the class, but this is where the unity of the team begins. Kamino, the exact place where All Might ended, is now this team’s starting line, as Momo points out.

It’s also good to see the story acknowledge, again, that Izuku isn’t dark or edgy. He IS still the same sweet kid but AFO had him trapped in a loop. He was scared out of his mind that people would get hurt because of him and because of that he couldn’t think of a strategy to find and defeat AFO, but if he accepted help from others to come up with a strategy, then they could get hurt because of him… and around we go. This is the true terror of AFO, leaving no options for a zero-risk victory.

Next we jump to an unrecognizable UA fortified with most intense wall since Game of Thrones (because that wall was so good at keeping out the White Walkers /s). Look, we all know it’s gonna fail, but in the meantime I very much enjoy rat principal building an elaborate cage for his humans.

Also, sounds like we’ll soon see Shiketsu (Inasa! Camie! Hair dude! Meatball dude!) but no Ketsubutsu (Ms. Joke, Shindo, turtle girl). I still want to see Ms. Joke in the aftermath of the war, but I accept it’s probably not gonna happen.

It wasn’t clear from the text leaks, but looking at the images of the full chapter, it does seem Ochako’s going to try and confront the angry mob, which makes my brain think of scenes like this:

Which is to say, I have concerns this will go well. Yes, I know BNHA is a shonen, so the teens will change the world. But even within the BNHA world, suspension of disbelief is required when Present Mic, a popular radio host and pro hero who arrested Dr. Ujiko, is getting shit from the crowd. Of course, “heroes” as a group are at fault for the war, and Mic struggled with the media the last time UA was breached.

(But Mic does take a gentler approach with civilians vs the media.)

If civilians are in such a frenzy that they’re angry at Mic (who DID succeed at something notable during the war raid) and Deku (a child who fought in the war and has been rounding up Tartarus-level jail breakers ever since), then Ochako needs to BRING IT like it’s never been broughten before to make a difference. While she’s never had a major media stumble, and she’s adorable AF, giving inspirational speeches and rallying the class has never been her strength. If she suddenly blinds the crowd with brilliant oratory, it’s a bit of an ass pull for her character. Jiro and Momo have more depth in this space, though Momo’s elite background may not help in this particular situation. Ochako’s become much better at working the bureaucracy, from the entrance exam where she asked Present Mic to give her points to Izuku, to appealing to Nezu in order to bring Endeavor to UA for a confrontation about Deku.

If a crowd speech really is in store for us, then I’d love for it to involve All Might and/or Stain somehow. Both of them have incredible charisma and can inspire civilians to action. And I’ve written before about All Might’s media whoring [affectionate] being its own super power that the pro heroes are ignoring. Nobody in this arc (including Deku) has used All Might as a resource based on his decades of experience with the media OR with AFO. Why is everyone acting like All Might is useless because he’s quirkless and no longer a ranked hero? He's still got his brain and his memories. Does a "hero" need to wear a costume or hold a license to use their brain? As Kirishima says in this chapter:

Or maybe Aizawa will finally appear to defend his problem child, just like he defended Bakugo previously? (Admittedly, my solution for everything rn is “Aizawa” because I’m dying to see him.)

Anyway….I love that Ochako was inspired by Bakugo. Her face before/during/after the apology is amazing. You can watch her recognize his courage in real time and build on it, like links in a chain. Like a power that grows as each person contributes…….huh…….

Also, I think Izuku needs to hear Ochako talk openly about helping the heroes who protect the citizens. He doesn’t really understand her style of heroism yet, and he needs to see the strength of her ideals —especially the power of saving and rescuing — before he sets off to save Shigaraki. She also needs to tell him what happened to her in the war aftermath, because he doesn’t know any of it. How she fought Toga and how Toga cried. How she watched other heroes quit, and how she’s inspired to help heroes who are in pain. It would be great to see Ochako and Izuku bond over a shared desire to save heroes AND villains who are in pain.

Finally, I want to appreciate the Izuku-Iida-Kirishima trio for one more moment. In this chapter, Kirishima skids to a halt catching Izuku, just as he caught Bakugo for the initial escape from Kamino. In both instances, Kirishima’s understated but steady and unbreakable commitment to his friends was CLUTCH. So, so good!

[tenthgrove]

Oh this is a very self indulgent rq and I hope you're okay with it but La Squadra (individual) with a schizophrenic s/o? Ofc if you're not comfortable writing for this you can ignore this request!! Sorry in advance

La Squadra With A Schizophrenic S/O

La Squadra x Reader (GN), Romantic, SFW

CWs: descriptions of psychotic episodes

Formaggio- Coming from a big, close family, Formaggio can name a relative or two that suffered from the same condition as you at one point or another. While he doesn't know the specifics he has a profound sympathy for you, and wants to know what he can do to help. Conscious of the gaps in his own knowledge, Formaggio lets you lead the conversation when you're well enough to do so, directing him as to what he could do to support you and how to tell when you're about to enter a crisis. He's never been great at self-care himself, but understanding the benefit it could have for you, he invites you to work together on things like laundry and shopping so you can stay on top of everything as a couple.

Illuso- He is a little unnerved to hear of your condition, for the sole reason that he doesn't know how to help you, but he wants to do whatever he can to be the best boyfriend for you, even through your illness. He breaks into the houses of about 5 acclaimed mental health specialists to badger them about what you're going to need, and isn't afraid to steal you some medication if you're struggling to source that for yourself. He uses his ability to his advantage in caring for you, for instance (provided you're well enough to acknowledge the fact you have hallucinations) taking you to the mirror world during an episode, to be secure in the knowledge that nothing can get to you there. It's also useful for emergencies, since Illuso can make sure you can't hurt yourself in there.

Prosciutto- Your boyfriend has always had a natural caring streak that makes him more suited than most for helping you through the demands of your illness. He is excellent in ensuring you take your medicines on time and eat and drink enough to keep going, and he has the patience and humility needed to understand he mustn't take what you say personally when you're in the midst of a truly severe episode of delusions. On your healthier days, he reassures you whenever necessary that despite how things may look, you will get better and live a fulfilling life, that you are stronger than you think. And rest assured that even if you do continue to relapse, he will be there for you, through thick and thin.

Pesci- Knowing you suffer from such a profound mental condition is naturally a source of worry for Pesci, but you mean so, so much to him and he's going to do everything possible to make things easier for you. One of Pesci's greatest strengths in terms of helping with your schizophrenia is that he takes care of you while still letting you remain in control. He'll never force you to go out and do things you don't want to or let him know what's going on in your head when you would rather not talk about it. He's also great at helping you set up small goals to feel like you're achieving each day, without pushing you beyond your limits. Whenever you tell him you managed to drink 2 litres of water in a day, or completed all your therapy homework if you have access to it, he's always very proud of you.

Melone- Much to his benefit, Melone knows a fair amount about psychology and conditions such as yours. He has a good knowledge off the bat about how your condition affects daily life, what symptoms to look out for when things are worsening for you, and how schizophrenia would typically be treated. If you aren't already, Melone gets you on medication stat, going so far as to bribe a Passion-affiliated doctor to meet with you and give their professional opinion about which drugs would suit your unique mental chemistry best. Though he appreciates it isn't for everyone, Melone is also well-versed in several schools of alternate medicine, for instance meditation, and will offer to try these with you in addition to your doctor-prescribed medication during your better days. He will watch you stringently to monitor your condition, and act quickly should he catch it getting worse.

Ghiaccio- You would be surprised to learn that for someone so short-fused and impatient, Ghiaccio is actually incredibly sensitive to those with mental afflictions and neurodivergences. It's probably because he's never exactly had a clean bill of mental health himself, so he can get where someone's coming from when they explain they struggle with this or that for mental reasons. Schizophrenia, now, he doesn't have any experience with first-hand but he knows it's not to be taken lightly and will mentally rehearse what to do if you have an episode so he can respond in the best possible way. Instead of trying to refute your hallucinations or delusions he sympathises with how frightening they must be, ensuring you always feel comfortable coming to him about your experiences if needs be.

Risotto- In spite of his intimidating exterior, Risotto is the sort to support his love ones through anything. It does not matter how severe or frightening your schizophrenia may seem, Risotto will approach it without judgement. Like many of the others, he will secure you suitable medication through any means necessary, and help you in remembering to take it each day. Perhaps he could start himself on vitamins or something so you can have pills to take together at a set time? He's very good at coming up with little ideas like that to make the process of self-care more easy for you. When you are truly quite severely ill, he will put everything aside to watch over you, even if you are so deep in your schizophrenia you can't even recognise his love for you. He will stop at nothing to keep you safe and happy.

Sorbet and Gelato- This isn't something the couple talk about often, but it's pertinent to the situation and you are their lover after all, so you may as well know. Gelato was schizophrenic for a good few years a while back, but has since recovered. So yeah, Gelato knows what you're going through and Sorbet has experience with being around someone with the same condition. Gelato shares with you the sorts of things that helped him stave off a crisis when he was suffering himself, but appreciates that no two cases are the same. Sorbet helps with your routine and calls up the same people that helped Gel while turning a blind eye to his mafia affiliations. All in all, the past experience really helps and you always feel like you can talk openly about your schizophrenia with your two boyfriends.

[haikyuu-appreciation-club]

hi taylee! can i please emergency request some haikyuu!! characters comforting an s/o who has had a really bad week and just needs a really long hug and to cry? maybe with yachi, kita, kuroo, and yamaguchi?

if you’re uncomfy writing any of those characters i also love asahi, tsukki, daichi, and iwaizumi as a backup! <3

thank you.

- Yachi, Kita, Kuroo, & Yamaguchi Comforting Their S/O After a Bad Week -

warnings: a few cuss words???

genre: comfort & fluff

a/n: excuse how shitty these are, i haven’t written hcs in a vv long time sooo i’m rusty :( i hope they bring you comfort none the less <3 also i apologize for any spelling/grammar mistakes

- Yachi -

yachi could tell that this past week had been rough on your part

the struggles you had been going through recently were clearly written on your face, yet she was nervous to approach you about it

she was scared she would do something to make your situation worse or say the wrong thing and end up hurting you more then you already were

however, when you arrived at her house with tears crawling down your cheeks she knew that her fear was inferior to what you were going through

as soon as you stepped foot through the door she gently gripped your hand and pulled you to her bedroom, the familiar scent of her perfume filling your senses as you down on her soft sheets

she immidently sat beside you, bed dipping to accommodate for her small figure as she wrapped her arms around your neck in an embrace

taking this as an invitation to indulge in her presence, your own limbs immidently found their way to her waist, burying your face into the crook of her neck and letting your tears flow freely

as you sobbed, she whispered soft words of comfort, thin fingers gently making their way through your hair in attempts to calm you down

soon enough your breaths slowed to a steady paced, tears long since dried and now staining your cheeks as yachi placed a soft kiss to your forehead

“i’m here if you wanna tell me about whatever’s bothering you. Oh, but if you don’t that’s okay too! i just wanna make sure you’re comfortable-”

a soft laugh escaped your body as you pressed a kiss to her lips to put a halt to her rambling

“i appreciate it, but i don’t think i want to talk about anything just yet.”

she nodded in understanding, shooting you a smile before grabbing your hand and gently tugging at it

you quirked an eyebrow at her antics before slowly pushing yourself off the bed and following her footsteps towards the bathroom

as soon as the two of you reached the doorway, she walked in front of you and dug through her bottom drawer, eventually pulling out a tube of overnight face masks and an applicator before eagerly shaking them in front of your face

a grin found its way to your face as you playfully rolled your eye and walked further into the restroom

yachi giggled in delight and patted the bathroom counter, insinuating for you to have a seat

once you did she unscrewed the lid of the face mask and let some of the product fall onto the applicator before tilting your head to the side and placing gentle strokes upon your cheekbones

she repeated the same the movement all across your face as she rambled on about a show she had been watching earlier and how the main character reminded her a lot of you

you smiled as the words flowed past her lips, meeting your ears like a sweet melody that you’d never get tired of hearing

the two of you soon switched places allowing you to return the favor and apply her face mask, listening to her laugh as she claimed how cool it felt upon her soft skin

after the two of you had finished, you took some silly pictures in the bathroom mirror before walking back towards the living room

you strolled over to the couch to pick out a movie as yachi sifted through her pantry for some snacks

the rest of the night was spent snuggled up by your girlfriend, laughing at the movies in front of you as the both of you stuffed your face with snacks

being in her company felt like a breath of fresh air after being buried by everything you’d been going through and in that moment, you couldn’t be more greatful for the girl sleeping soundly beside you

- Kita -

kita had noticed your disheartened state right away but he didn’t exactly make it a point to bring it up to you or ask about it

he figured that you would come to him with whatever was burdening you on your own time so he opted to giving you some space

but when you came walking through his front door on the brink of tears he knew that you needed him in that moment

he rushed over to your broken figure as you collapsed into his embrace, immediately letting your fingers find their way to grip his shirt as kita’s hands lightly tugged your head against his chest

you sobbed for what felt like hours, allowing yourself to let go of all the pent up emotions you’d previously held as kita soothingly rubbed a warm hand up and down your back

once you’d your wails had reduced to nothing but sniffles, kita pulled you away from his grasp and used his thumb to wipe off the remaining tears that clung to your cheek before cupping your face in his hands

“do you want to talk about it?”

you shook your head, too exhausted to replay the events that had been piling up this past week to your boyfriend

kita nodded in understanding before pushing himself off the floor and reaching a hand out to help you up

you gently gripped his hand in return allowing him to pull you up and guide you towards the kitchen

it was neat and tidy, just like the rest of kita’s home but the one thing that stood out was the small pile of dishes that sat next to the counter

it may have seemed strage to other’s but kita always saved one chore in the house for the two of you to do together when you visited

it was one of the ways he enjoyed bonding with you and reminded him that he’d be able to do these things with you for the rest of your lives

he lead you over to the sink before placing a soft kiss to your cheek and turning on the warm water from the faucet

you smiled over at his as he handed you a dish and the two of you began to wash the remaining silverware that had been left

it was comfortablely quiet at first, the sound of water running and sponges scrubbing were the only noise that filled the atmosphere

but soon enough silence turned to small chit chat which turned to laughing and giggling as you dried the dishes together

although your week had been absolute hell, being able to spend time with the one you love definitely made up for it

- Kuroo -

kuroo had always had a knack for reading people so when everything began going downhill for you, he noticed quite quickly

he knew this week had been giving you hell, watching as you strung yourself very thin as you tried your best to juggle the numerous bumps in your road

it hurt him to watch you become so overwhelmed, especially as you sat on his couch, scrolling through your phone with a quivering lip in attempts to not cry in front of your boyfriend

he sighed as he sat himself down beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and tugging you into his chest

“Quit doing that.”

“Q-Quit doing what?”

he looked down at you with a soft smile adoring his features before placing a kiss to the top of your head

“Acting like you can’t let yourself cry in front of me”

at that, one blink was enough to allow the tears you had been holding back to run freely down your cheeks

kuroo held your head in his hands as he rocked you gently back and forth

his body was warm, and the way you swayed in his embrace reduced your hiccups and cries to nothing but soft whimpers

the two of you sat for a moment in each other’s arms before you heard a chuckle escape kuroo’s lips

he untangled your arms from his torso and cupped you cheeks in his hands before squishing them together and beginning his main method of cheering you up

“You are, my fire..”

“Testuro-”

“The one, desire..”

“Testuro i swear if don’t stop sing-”

“Believe when i say, i want it that way.”

he stood up abruptly and extended a hand out to you before skipping over to the chorus

you laughed as he dramatically serenaded you, providing an entire performance to see you smile

at the end of the day, you knew your boyfriend would forever be by your side, even if he was a huge dork

- Yamaguchi -

yamaguchi had his suspicions about your decline in mood

you tried not to openly express how the hardships of this past week had affected you but he could see through the front you put up

it broke his heart that you were going through a tough time but he didn’t exactly know what to do to make you feel better

you hadn’t reached out to him or given any obvious hints that you were struggling so he didn’t want to jump to conclusions or make you feel as though he was being overbearing

but on your walk home from school one day, as tears were threatening to spill from your eyes, yamaguchi pulled you to the side and wrapped his arms tightly around you, deciding he couldn’t let you go through things on your own any longer

“y/n, is everything okay?”

you shake your head as tears start to spill from your eyes, timidly returning his embrace as you clutch into his sweater

he felt his own share of tears pooling at the brim of his eyes as he traced random shapes into the small of your back, pressing an occasional kiss to your shoulder

once you had calmed down, yamaguchi intertwined his fingers with yours and dragged you down the path opposite from the direction you normally headed home

“tadashi, where are we going?”

“you’ll see.”

after a bit of walking, and yamaguchi humming one of your favorite songs along the way, the two of you reached a nearby convenience store

you looked at yamaguchi in confusion earning a chuckle and a wide grin from your boyfriend as he pushed open the door, holding it open for you as you walked inside

the two of you walked to the snack isle where yamaguchi began to pick up some of your favorites snacks earning a soft smile from you

“babe, what are you doing?”

“um, well i figured we could get some snacks and then watch that show you’ve been wanting to see? only if you’re up for it though.”

you began to tear up once more at his considerate actions before pulling him towards you and catching his lips in a loving kiss

you knew in that moment that as long as you had yamaguchi by your side, he’d be able to show you light in even the darkest of times

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.04

10/23/2020

Strong Arms and Honest Kisses

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 3,636

Warnings: failed relationships, talks of lonliness, angst, FLUFF, complicated relationships

A/N: This one is a little shorter than my chapters recently. Part of this is because this felt like a complete chapter but I also did a lot of rewriting with this one. I wrote half of it, then deleted it. Then wrote it again. Then deleted it. I finally got a good flow going and this is the one I liked the most. I hope y’all like it too. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please do not REPOST my stories on any other sites or blogs.

REBLOGS are always welcome and appreciated!

The walk back to your room is awkward.

Full of fluttering hesitant energy.

There’s a new electricity between your body and Thor’s as he walks beside you, heavy feet falling slowly, with forethought.

He has his hands behind his back, feeling the need to keep them to himself after what happened in the garden.

You appreciate the space.

“That was my first kiss.” You admit, hating the silence between you because it feels like both of you want to say so much but are unwilling to speak first.

“Oh,” Thor laments, his gaze wavering. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be!” You rush to reassure him, shrugging a shoulder as you look straight once more. “I-I mean, you wanted a maiden, right? A virgin?”

When you look at him, he’s blushing, his cheeks a soft pink underneath that hay colored beard.

It’s cute and you feel a surge of warmth for him fill your chest.

“That wasn’t necessarily what I wanted.” He clarifies.

“Oh…” Your turn to lament. “I’m sorry.”

Suddenly, a flurry of worries come rushing forward. You don’t have any experience. None. Zero. Tonight has been the most action you’ve ever seen in your life.

No one has ever held your hand.

No one has ever been so caring and sweet.

No one has definitely ever kissed you.

No one has ever proposed.

You have no experience to offer Thor, as a wife, will you be able to satisfy him?

He’s a literal God. He’s really, super old, and has probably slept with lots of women…or…beings? Aliens?

How are you going to live up to that?

“I just…I’ve never even really liked anyone, so I never was with anyone, and I’m sorry-” You fret, stopping to look up at him.

He places his hands over yours, stopping your fidgeting.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He whispers gently.

You meet his blue eye and it’s just as soft as his voice.

“We can talk about that part of our marriage later. Let’s take this one day at a time.”

“But I-I don’t know what to do with that. I mean, I kinda know but I don’t know. I don’t want to-I’m kinda scared of-”

Thor’s blush returns and your own neck is suddenly burning.

That previously terrifying image of Thor prying your legs open that you’d imagined back at home replays itself in your mind, this time the fear is not for the man himself but the act in general.

Thor’s hands finding the side of your neck interrupt your vocal vomit.

With you silenced, he traces the lines of your shoulders, the length of your arms before he takes hold of your elbows over your cloak which is keeping them warm.

“We have time, cherub.” The pet name comes out of nowhere and sounds so strange but good and you’re not sure you know how to breathe anymore. “Time to worry about many things later. Tonight, let’s just enjoy this agreement to try.”

With a lick to your lips, you nod, shutting your eyes as you’re overwhelmed by not only the pleasure that stupid pet name has given you but also his hands still wrapped around your elbows.

“Thank you for telling me.” Thor whispers, pulling you a little closer. “These are things that are good to know. I will be sure to make preparations for us.”

“Preparations?” You nearly squeak.

“Things to make it easier for you. But as I said,” his ears grow nice and red too, now. “We have plenty of time to think about that later. Almost three days!”

You scoff, “That’s not a lot of time, Thor.”

“No,” he chuckles. “I suppose you’re right.”

“This is happening so fast.”

“I know. And I’m sorry. That’s my fault. I’ve been putting this choice off for so long that now that I’ve made it, they want me to follow through quickly.” Thor takes a step back, reaching down to take your hand.

You eagerly hold his hand back, grateful for the comfort it gives you but also you really like holding his hand, you realize.

“Let’s get you to bed. Even though Hilde was completely drunk, she’ll still wake up early enough to make you hate her.” He pulls you along, his hand giving yours a gentle squeeze every few steps.

“Thor?”

“Hm?” He asks, not sparing you a glance.

“You don’t have to do this, you know?” Your own eyes are glued to his hand around yours.

You seriously like the way his hand looks around yours. Why are you letting yourself fall this hard? It’s not right. It’s not fair. To you. To him.

“Do what?” He asks, genuinely confused.

“This.” You give your hand a shake, the two of you rounding the corner to the hall where your room is.

He doesn’t stop walking until he reaches the door. He twists the knob and pulls it open, stepping in with you before turning to close it.

Swallowing hard, you try not to lose your breath again. There’s a pressure in your chest that you know is coming from the way he shut that door.

He turns, strutting towards you as he keeps hold of your hand. You take several steps back until your legs hit the edge of your bed forcing you to sit.

For a moment you think he might move over you, just like that image in your head. Instead he sits down beside you.

“Can I be honest with you about something?” He asks, pulling your hand over onto his lap.

“I hope so.” You relax, waiting patiently as he takes a deep breath.

“I haven’t seen Jane in almost three months.” He explains. “She’s been secluded in an installation in the middle of nowhere. In Wyoming? And I’ve been so busy here…this is the same struggle we always have. I cannot get away because of my own duties now much more formal and inescapable as King. And Jane’s work has always been the most important thing to her.

“I knew that when we agreed to try again but I was hoping that we might both take some time to prioritize our relationship. Jane was the first person I met when I was sent here. She was kind and patient. She was brilliant. Smartest person I’ve ever met. Smarter than Stark and Banner, don’t tell them I told you that.” He smiles. “But it’s that very brain that keeps her focus elsewhere. And I don’t begrudge her that passion. It’s one of the reasons I fell for her.

“But we don’t seem to be able to make it work.”

Hearing him praise her so much, love her so openly dries your throat and you can’t swallow to push past the lump there to speak. So, you say nothing.

“This,” Thor pulls your hand up a little, readjusting and holding it more securely. “This feels good.”

That helps.

“But you wish it was her?” You wonder.

Thor goes silent, averting his eyes to his hand around yours.

“Not anymore.” He sighs. “Until tonight, I would have said yes. I would have given anything for you to be Jane. To marry the woman I love? How could I not want that? It’s what I’ve always hoped for.”

You feel disappointment pull your body down, shoulders slumped, head falling so that you don’t have to look at him anymore.

You feel strong fingers take hold of your chin, gently tilting your head back until you can meet his electric blue eye.

“When I met you, I was surprised. I’d met with woman, after woman, after woman, after woman-”

“Alright, I get it.” You frown.

Thor stops to laugh but then nods, “Sorry. I only mean that every woman I met, all the other princesses and duchesses and ladies once related to direct royal families were kind but there was something calculating about the way they spoke. They were careful with the things they said and I didn’t feel like I was really getting to know them.”

“But with me?”

“With you, I-it was like recognizing someone that I’d known my whole life. You sat there, terrified but unable to keep from speaking your mind. You were honest about not wanting to marry for anything but love and I understood how you felt. I’d made up my mind not to choose you then. I didn’t want to take from you what was being taken from me, but I-the more I thought about marrying one of those women…I told myself I would let you find someone you could be with, even as my wife.

“We’d keep it secret. You could be with them and I would give you your privacy and let you live that life while protecting it for you.” He sighs. “Then you came here, and dinner brought me hope. I didn’t think that you could ever want to feel any other way for me than that disappointment I saw cross your face when I asked you to marry me and live your life with me without feeling loved.”

“Neither did I.” You confess, words coming out in a rush. “I hated you when I came here. I hated my family for being related to royalty. I hated that I was suddenly being asked to think about shit that I honestly, didn’t even care about! And then I met you and you were nice and confused and you asked me that stupid fucking question about my ideal marriage and I had no one else to picture so I pictured you and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

Thor smiles, “If I’m honest, that’s also what drew me to you. To be fair though, I didn’t ask any of the other women that question, but it was clear without them having to say so that they were after the prestige that comes with being a human Queen of Asgard.”

“But I know that you still love her.” You continue, ignoring the sweet smile he’s giving you because your mind will not stop fretting. “I know that you’d much rather have it be Jane so, I’m only saying that you don’t have to force yourself to hold my hand or show me affection when you don’t feel it.”

Thor sighs heavily, a huff as he takes hold of your head with both massive hands and pulls you towards him to meet his lips.

This time your surprise only lasts a second before you squeeze your eyes shut and pucker your lips back against his.

You can feel his body shake and you tear your eyes open, searching for what’s making him laugh but find him watching you.

He pulls back, thumbs caressing your cheeks.

“Relax. There’s no need to be nervous.” He whispers, deep. It settles in your chest cavity and you really like the sound of his voice.

“I’ve never kissed before.” You remind him. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Kissing is easy.” Thor tells you. “Just pucker your lips,”

You do as he asks, self-conscious but eager to feel that kiss again.

“Then let me do the rest.” He pulls you back to him and your eyes shut as his lips meet yours.

It’s only a peck. A held one. Until Thor’s hands guide your head to the right as he tilts his to the left and suddenly his lips are overlapping your own. They’re hot, wet, and his breath tickles.

You jump as the tip of his tongue rolls along the seam of your mouth and without making the choice to do it, you open for him and he delves in slowly. Your body is suddenly humming, your mind overcome, and it all feels like a dream.

He inhales as he kisses you, tongue swirling around your own and you don’t know what to do so you reach out to grip the edge of his armor around his chest, hands fisted around the leather while he leads you in this dizzy dance.

He tilts your head the other way, breaking the kiss to take a breath giving you a second to gasp, but then he’s back on you, smothering your whimper of surprise with his lips.

As he presses against yours again, he dives in with more excitement, mouth open, tongue tasting.

You’re trembling, legs shaking with nerves as your hands hold on harder.

As he pulls away, lips smacking quietly, he caresses your cheeks again, letting you come down from your high.

He waits patiently until your eyes open, searching wildly to see what you might find in his.

All you find is his own searching, his own curiosity.

“Um…” You mumble, voice barely audible.

“If you let me in,” He says, his breath washing over your lips again making the past few minutes replay in vivid color. “I will open for you. I think we can do this right. I want to do this right. Will you do this with me?”

Your hands are shaking around his arm, still reeling from that kiss. Holy shit.

“I already said yes.” You point out.

“Say it again.” Thor pleads, scooting closer.

You’re almost completely pulled against his chest, hands squished between your bodies.

“This is happening so fast.” You gasp, confused but happy.

“It has to.” He nods. “I want it to.”

“But how do I know it’s real?” You wonder, and to answer you, Thor crushes you against his chest, head dipping until he meets your lips again.

“It’s real.” He says, tilting your head again, coaxing your mouth open.

You respond more eagerly this time, letting your tongue swirl around his to meet it in its frenzy. Your heart pounds with excitement. This is new and you can understand why people like it. You’ve wondered in passing what it would feel like when you saw it happen in films and shows, taking the books you’d read as gospel for what it feels like but they pale in comparison to the reality.

It’s a haze of pleasure. Foggy but the emotions sharp. It’s also possessive. It feels like yours now. This with Thor can never belong to anyone else. The very thought of it being felt by someone else breaks your heart and also boils your blood.

It makes you bolder, pulling him closer where you have hold of him.

“Let me in.” Thor whispers against your lips, giving you one small final peck. “It’s real for me, I swear to you.”

Can you trust him?

Everything he’s said so far makes sense. His disillusionment with his relationship with Jane is not fake. You were able to hear the sadness in his voice, the acceptance when he explained what was happening with her.

“If you can try to love me, I will try to love you.” He whispers, reaching down with his thumb to trace the shape of your lower lip.

You shut your eyes, seduced by his touch.

“You’re not playing fair,” You sigh. “This is coercion.”

Opening your eyes, you find Thor smiling, and you wonder if this is what he looks like when he likes someone. Is this him smitten?

You don’t think so.

You can’t wrap your mind around him being anything but tolerant of you. He’d been so vocal about loving Jane that you can’t see how only meeting with you twice might override that, even if they are currently struggling.

“I already told you yes! Brunnhilde was right about you.”

“And I want to hear you say it again. For good measure.” He traces the line of your jaw, cup your chin from beneath once he reaches it. “Look me in the eyes and tell me that you’ll try with me. We’ll do everything in our power and devote ourselves to each other. You’ll love me and I will love you.”

His words give your stomach flutters and the way he’s holding your chin makes it so that you can’t look away to clear your head.

So, you nod. “I will love you, Thor. We’ll make this work. As long as you never touch me unless you really want to. I don’t want you to force it. I want it to be real.”

Desperately, you want it. Now more than ever.

“Deal.” Thor says, then wraps one arm around your shoulders and meets your lips again.

~~~~~~~~~~

You wake with a gasp, reaching around for something though you don’t know what. No one had slept with you.

The bed is rightfully empty. As you sit up, you remember every little detail of last night. The words that were spoken, the declarations made, the kisses.

Oh, fuck, the kisses!

You lay back down, heart pounding while you urge yourself to think of every single shift of Thor’s lips against your own.

They’d been so hot, and wet once he’d French kissed you. His tongue had been thick and smooth in its movements. Skilled though you don’t know what you’d compare it to in order to know that for sure.

His arms had been huge and strangely safe. Wrapped up around you, he’d been a powerhouse of heat and strength, lulling you into a calm you’ve never felt before.

Reaching up to scratch your forehead, a small shine catches your eye, and you find your engagement ring, dazzling you with its beauty and the memory of Thor on one knee.

For a moment you’re almost sure that you’ll wake up and all of this will be a dream. A good dream that you had no idea you could ever have wanted.

Then a knock on your door makes you jump, and you sit up again.

Through the door marches Brunnhilde with the swagger of a soldier heading into battle, her clothes relaxed however, plain jeans, a red sweater, and heavy work boots.

“Good!” She smiles at you, “You’re awake! Estrid, bring in Her Highness’s breakfast and set aside one of the other dresses His Majesty bought for her.”

“I’m wearing another uncomfortable dress?” Your sorrow is clear and Brunnhilde smiles at you, her eyes flitting towards your ring. “So, that’s what they were up to.”

You follow her gaze and take a long look at your ring, “Who?”

“Loki and Thor.” Estrid moves past Brunnhilde, heading towards the desk at the far side of the room and places it there before she hurries to the armoire to sift through the dresses. “They’d disappeared a few days ago, went shopping or so they said. I didn’t believe them but clearly, they told me the truth. Just didn’t think they were shopping for a ring. It’s pretty.”

“It’s a lotus flower.” You tell her, throwing your blankets back and sliding to the edge of the bed. “He said he didn’t know that I liked flowers but was happy that I did since I’d like the ring more.”

“He said that?” She wonders, grabbing your robe from the vanity seat then offering it to you.

Taking it, you slip it on and tie it loosely around your waist. The smell of the food pulls you to the desk and you sit, immediately picking apart the eggs and toast.

“Mm.” You nod. “He did. He also said that he really wants to try. He’s willing to really give us a shot.”

Brunnhilde sits on the end of your bed, watching you eat with the space between her eyes puckered.

“Then he’s chosen to give her up finally.” Brunnhilde realizes, surprise painting her tone.

You look at her, intrigued by her own surprise.

“Is that weird?”

“No. Not weird, just unlikely. I never thought he’d really give up on Jane. They were so in love in the beginning when we first arrived. They were always together. Slowly they saw each other less and less, but his devotion never wavered.” She explains.

This doesn’t make you feel good. In fact, hearing about how deep their love was—is—unsettles you.

Fork still in your mouth, you watch her, mind racing.

“Eat up, Your Highness.” Brunnhilde says, rising. “Get dressed and meet me in the main hall. We have to go into town for your wedding dress fitting.”

As she moves for the door and Estrid crosses the room to your bed to lay out a stunning navy dress that looks way too formal for a dress fitting, you turn in your seat, hands grasping the back as you twist to follow her.

“Is Thor awake?”

“Yes.” Brunnhilde nods. “He left about half an hour ago for Wyoming to go see Jane, I assume to break things off with her.”

“Oh,” You shrink, fears you didn’t know you could have choking you.

What if he sees her and realizes he loves her too much to let her go? What if she changes her mind and decides that watching him marry someone else is unbearable? She decides to marry him and then he comes back to tell you that she’s agreed to be Queen and he no longer needs you?

Last night had only cemented your growing feelings for Thor and there is no way you can ever go back to before those kisses.

“He’ll be back tonight.” Brunnhilde assures you, but it only drives you crazier.

Why does he need until tonight?

Why so long? How many kisses will he give her? How many hugs will she take?

You shouldn’t begrudge him this goodbye. You should accept that with it will come with tears and affection that you already see as yours. You don’t want her to have it but it’s not yours yet. It’s intended for you, but right now Thor’s love is still hers.

This God of Thunder has absolutely wrecked you and it’s clear to you that you can never go back to your little home without him. You can never live a life where his arms are not around you.

You’re absolutely fucked.

[commander-hanji-zoe]

Hi~ can I request Mike and Nanaba with s/o who is stressing with college life like hw or study please? 🥺🥺🥺

Hey - of course! I imagine they'd both be very supportive and caring. In many respects I think their reactions would be very similar, so you may notice some repetition. Mostly I think they'd want you to remember your studies do not define you as a person and anything you're struggling with is not a failure and is nothing to be embarrassed of. They'd want to make sure you had plenty of water, snacks and took plenty of breaks (especially with fresh air as that's very important!) Breathing exercises, meditation, allowing you to vent to them without interruption. Tears with no shame. Lots of hugs and rewards at the end of difficult sessions. I hope you like the below and that it helps. ♡

Mike

Mike knows exactly when to leave you alone to your studying, when to leave you alone but occasionally bring snacks/drinks and when he needs to intervene and remind you to take a break. He’s someone who is very in-tune with those around him, especially those he is close to so he’s a good judge of when you’re pushing yourself too far and will step in to tell you.

At the beginning of your studies he’ll ensure to set up an area either in the space/room you share or in his room where you can study in peace. There might even be a little DIY involved. They’ll be a plant or two, plenty of stationary and paper, a stress toy and some lovely scented candles.

With his keen nose he’ll pick out candles that not only smell gorgeous but help to aid in concentration.

He’ll ensure you have a constant supply of water, occasionally bringing you tea, orange juice or whatever your favourite drink is. He’ll also bring snacks known for their ‘brain power’ like nuts and berries, but he also likes to treat you so he’ll bring cookies too.

If you need help setting up a study schedule he’s the perfect partner to assist with this and will create a

If you need someone to test your knowledge Mike will really get into the teacher role, which will likely make you giggle but it’s also a little bit hot. He’s incredibly patient with you and if you’re really struggling/there’s any gaps in your knowledge, he’ll design little note cards with the information on (and adds a little heart).

If you’re feeling super stressed with studying he’ll remove you from the situation, even if you’re panicking about time and feel you cannot leave the desk, he’ll remind you that if you’re running at 1% you’re not going to be studying effectively or retaining information. It’s better to take a break (away from the desk and the room) for half hour or possibly even the rest of the day if you’ve been studying for hours, than to burn out completely.

Mike makes sure that you get plenty of fresh air so if you have a break from studying you’re not just sat in the same place. Instead he’ll encourage you to go for a walk, he’ll come with you if you want but also understands personal space is important.

He’s very good at shoulder/back/head/neck massages (let’s be honest he’s great at massaging any part of the body). If you’re feeling tense/stressed but want to study a bit more, he’s happy to stand behind you and gently give you a massage to help release some of that tension.

There’s rewards whenever you finish studying, whether it’s a nice meal he’s prepared, a romantic evening, drinks with friends, a cake Mike has baked, a hot, romantic bath etc. Mike makes sure that your place is clean and tidy and dinner is sorted so it’s one less thing for you to worry about and you can focus your energy on studying.

He’s overall very supportive and will tell you how proud of you he is everyday. If you need a quick pick me up and you’re struggling to believe in yourself, he’ll get you to do some affirmations with him or help you write some that remain private.

Any tears when you’re studying and Mike will be there with tissues and plenty of hugs. He has a way of making you feel completely safe and secure when he wraps his arms around you. He’s happy to hold you as long as is needed.

Will remind you that you’re doing the best you can and that he thinks you’re amazing. Will also remind you that no one is perfect and that as long as you’re doing your best that’s all anyone (yourself included) can ask for.

At the end of every study session if he’s there or when he gets home he’ll press a kiss to your forehead in the same place every day. “Proud of you love.”

Any breakdowns you have or moments of extreme stress where you feel you can’t go on, Mike is there to hold your hands and let you vent. He helps you to take deep breaths and focus on a happy memory. He’ll remind you that your worth is not determined by how your studies go or your results in an exam. This does not define you and if you don’t get it this time you can try again and that is absolutely okay.

Nanaba

Having Nanaba around when you’re stressing about college is incredibly helpful, she’s a ray of sunshine who reminds you to take frequent breaks and ensures you’re looking after yourself as well as studying.

She curates the perfect study space for you that’s full of light and near a window so there’s plenty of air.

Makes sure you start the day with a healthy and brain-power inspired breakfast, she’ll say with

Kisses to the cheek and reassuring squeeze of your shoulders to let you know that she’s there for you if you need her. But Nananba is never over-bearing and certainly never treats you like a child. She appreciates that sometimes especially when you are stressed that you will need your space.

Like Mike she’ll ensure you’ve got plenty of water throughout your studies and if she’s home/around she’ll occasionally bring you snacks and ensure you take a decent break for lunch.

If the sight of paperwork and books is stressing you out and the words seem to blur into one, Nanaba will suggest going out for lunch - to sit on the grass with a picnic or buy lunch out. Something that is completely detached from the work you are doing.

Occasionally when you’re studying you’ll hear Nanaba singing or humming, half the time she doesn’t even know she’s doing it but it’s comforting and reassuring. When you point it out to her she’ll go a little red and feel bad for disturbing your study. But you explain, it actually helps you to focus, so Nanaba will sing a little every day while you’re studying. It’ll be in a different room so it’s quiet but somehow that makes you feel safe.

At the end your study sessions when Nanaba sees you she likes to know how it went, what went well and what didn’t go so well. She thinks it’s important you talk openly about it and encourages you to express any doubt rather than bottling it up. Together you come up with a plan to tackle the areas that are stressing you out the most.

If you start to cry or feel incredibly frustrated and stressed, Nanaba will guide you away from your work space to the window so you can listen to the birds, breeze, chatter of children etc. She’ll help to ground you and do some breathing exercises with you to calm your heart rate and make you feel more like you again.

She cooks the most amazing meals for you so you have a hearty dinner in the evening once you’ve finished working.

Nanaba will mostly leave you to study alone as she doesn’t want to disturb you, but she will pop her head round the corner every now and then to check you’re doing okay and see if you need anything.

Reminds you that even if you don’t do as well in the exam as you’d like, it isn’t the end - you can always try again and there’s absolutely no shame in that.

If you have difficulty sleeping due to worrying about your studies she’ll spoon you and stroke your hair, whispering soft affirmations and reassurances. She reminds you of how far you’ve come and how proud of you she is. Then she’ll paint a pretty picture with words, describing a dream day out with her so you fall asleep with this imagery instead of a busy mind.

[qjhughes]

The View From Both Sides of The Mirror

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: 23.5k

Summary: Who would have thought that being stuck on a boat with your worst enemy would be a good thing?

Warning(s): Cursing, some mentions of yachtrry, Harry being a softie, Harry also being a dick, reader being down on herself

A/N: So this is my submission for @stylesharrys​ 10k follower celebration! I chose the picture above, the trope enemies to lovers, prompt “That’s not what I meant, I swear. I know I can be an asshole but I'm not that heartless.”  I’ve been working on this for quite a while and I really debated deleting the entire thing a few times, but here she is, all finished and ready to be enjoyed!!

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*

Harry Styles is a lot of things. Annoying, over the top, self obsessed, judgmental, self indulgent, careless, overly flamboyant, rude, narcissistic. He’s a lot of things, but perfect is not one of them.

The media continuously had a lot of ridiculous ideas about him, most of which were laughable. You’d often scroll through your social media and snort at the things that people would post about him. You had seen some things that were quite funny, but nothing compared to the article that your best friend, Lexi, had shown you. You full body cackled after reading the title, and who could blame you? “The Perfect Man the World Didn’t Know It Was Missing” was top tier comedy.

There were a plethora of things wrong with the title that the up and coming news station had so foolishly chosen.

The most obvious of which being the fact that he was literally 26, and he’s been in the spotlight for over ten years. The world hadn’t been missing him at all. He’s been shoved in everyone’s face for over a decade and they find a new reason to act like he’s the best thing that ever happened to the universe. They over exaggerate everything, make it seem like he was either born an hour ago or just discovered yesterday. Which was definitely not the case, as you had been told numerous times by the man himself. 

The second being that they all acted like they knew him when really they had absolutely no idea who he is. The ones that covered the stories acted like they knew him as well as his childhood best friend when really they had taken a statement, at most. They had no clue who he actually was. They couldn’t tell you his favorite number, or how he fixes his toast. They don’t know the reason why he no longer wears skinny jeans. They don’t know why he’s so open with who he is and how he presents himself. None of them know anything about any of that, and it’s more bothersome than you’d like to admit. But it’s not just the people that praise him that rub you the wrong way. No, it’s even the ones that say bad things about him, that claim that he’s Satan's spawn. It was still exasperating to hear them say things about him. They acted like they knew him well enough to hate him, to paint him as the villain in their article.

Yeah, sure, you and Harry didn’t get along, but at least you had a reason. Most of the people that didn’t like him were just upset because basically everyone wanted something to do with him, and they were all mad because he was seemingly perfect. He never lost his temper (he definitely did, just not in public), he was nice to everyone (yeah, besides you), and he would never turn down a picture with a fan if it was safe to do so and he had time (that one was true. The one part of him that you don’t absolutely hate is the love that he has for his fans. He’d be nowhere without them, and he realizes that. And, although he’s not appreciative of a lot of things, he is of them).

And the final thing about the article, the one that irked your nerves the most, was that they were yet another news group to paint the picture that he was perfect, that he was the golden boy. That he had never once done something that could be seen as wrong. Which, yet again, goes to show that they don’t really know anything about him, at least not personally.

Sure, Harry Styles came off as perfect. He had to. He’s in the public eye, spotted everywhere that he goes by at least one person. He had been coached from the ripe old age of 16 to come across in that way. In his career, there has never been any room for error. One mistake could have brought down everything that the managers of One Direction were trying to accomplish.

He was conditioned into media perfection long ago. He had been told how to speak, how to act, what to wear, what to sing. Anything that could possibly cause an upset in the fandom was immediately changed, edited to make it look better. He was shaped into the boy that the world had come to love. 

But Harry, the guy that you spent the majority of your waking hours with, due to the numerous mutual friends that you had, was annoying at best. Most of the time, though, he was a complete prick.

There was nothing about the man he was behind closed doors that was perfect. He was utterly and completely himself. Most people would think that’s a good thing, him being comfortable enough to himself to the fullest extent. But you? You absolutely hated those times. He was much easier to deal with when you were out in public, when he was too worried about keeping up appearances to do anything particularly shitty. 

The two of you had never gotten along. From the very moment that the two of you had met, there was a tension. It was like there was an immediate distaste for one another. All of your friends could tell that the two of you would never get along, but they tried to force it anyway.

That night, he had seemed completely uninterested, like he’d rather be at some party that only had A-List celebrities on the guest list than there meeting you. At first, you had been hurt. But then you came to accept it. Came to accept the fact that you just weren’t good enough for him. You weren’t like the rest of your friends. All you did was work in photography, and you weren’t even one of the well off photographers. Sure, you didn’t struggle, but you weren’t on the same level as the rest of the people that you had formed friendships with.

Your mutual friends had tried their best to ease the tension between the two of you. They had done everything in their power to force the friendship. You had to give them props, they pulled all the stops, but there was nothing that anyone could do that would make you not loathe the mere thought of him. Maybe it was the fact that he made you doubt who you were. Maybe it was the fact that he gave off the asshole vibe. Or maybe, it was just because he seemed to not like you, but from that day forward, you weren’t on good terms with him.

Things had gotten so bad with Harry that you had even tried to find a new group of friends. You were tired of feeling like you were the odd man out, feeling like you had ruined every outing because you couldn’t just suck it up and get along with him. There had come a time when you didn’t even feel like you had belonged. All of the people that you had surrounded yourself with were extremely successful. Most of them were CEOs of something. But when Harry had met them, he had introduced the singers, writers, and musicians into the group. You weren’t any of those things. Sure, a lot of people saw you as an artist, but you could barely be seen as anything compared to the others, and that haunted you until you began to believe that your occupation as a photographer wasn’t valid.

So, you searched for new friends. You tried to find people that would make you feel like you belonged, like you were their equal. You just wanted some people that you could relate to. You hadn’t felt that in way too long, and being around Harry and his super successful, extremely famous friends wasn’t helping any.

You tried for a few weeks before realizing that it was pointless. He found a way to weasel himself into that aspect of your life as well. 

Every single time you met someone new, the same thing happened. You’d talk to them for a few minutes, get to know each other a little. But each time, without fail, they’d ask “Hey, aren’t you that chick that’s friends with Harry Styles?” And each time, you’d immediately walk away, never looking back.

Nobody cared about making friends with you, they just wanted to have a way to Harry. Every cell in your body was filled with regret. You had made the decision to openly be in the same friend group as him. You hadn’t taken into consideration that once you were spotted with him repeatedly, your life would never be the same.

It left you wanting to rip your hair out. Or at least go back in time so that you never had to meet him, never had to be in public with him. It sucked that no matter how hard you tried, he wouldn’t stay out of your life. He was present even when he physically wasn’t, and it was aggravating beyond belief.

It was safe to say that you hate Harry Styles.

It was also safe to say that Harry Styles hates you.

You were so uptight, always sticking up your nose at everything that he did. You had done it since the moment that you had met him and it seemed as if you had never stopped.

You had given him a look that could only be described as one filled with disdain the moment that you met him, and from that moment on he had tried his best to distance himself from you. With the both of you running in the same circle, though, that was pretty hard.

So, he had just tried his best to ignore you. That didn’t work very well either, seeing as you always had a reaction to everything that he did. And none of those reactions were ever positive.

You acted like there was something wrong with him spending the money that he earned. It got on his nerves more than just about anything. What was he supposed to do with it? Was he just supposed to let it sit in his bank account for the rest of his life? He donates a large chunk of everything that he earns every year, it wasn’t like he was just blowing his money on meaningless things. He had his priorities straight.

He had come to despise nights out, knowing that you would be there. You always had something to say. Or not say, rather. You’d never tell him that it was exactly that made you so upset with him. Every time you would send him a look, he’d ask why, but you’d simply turn on your heel or slip out of the booth, heading to the dance floor to be as far away from him as possible.

He was a simple man, really. He just wanted to go out with his friends, buy something strong off the top shelf, and drink until he was in the cuddly mood that his mind automatically switched into when there was enough alcohol running through his veins.

But with you there? Oh, he couldn’t do that. God forbid he buys something expensive like that. God forbid that he spend his money on what he wanted to. Every time he’d order his drink, you’d curl your nose up, as if you were completely disgusted by his choice. And every time that he would get overly touchy and want to cuddle someone, he would automatically seek you out. He didn’t know why, and he despised his brain for thinking of no one else but you. 

He knew that the fact that he never chose someone else to agitate probably made you hate him even more than you already did, and he went home every weekend feeling awful about it. He never meant to annoy you. Sure, he hated you, couldn’t stand the way you acted like you were better than him, like you were higher up than him even though he saw the two  of you as equals, but he never meant to purposefully get on your nerves. He never went out of his way to cause you to hate him even more. 

However, that didn’t stop you from thinking that he did. Didn’t stop you from thinking that he’d do anything in his power to pester you. It didn’t stop you from hating him more and more every day.

*

When your friends had called you and told you that they wanted to go on vacation, you were excited. You could use a break, a bit of time to forget about all the stress and just relax on a boat with your friends. Plus, you had never been to Brighton, so there was no way you were going to say no to that experience.

However, the initial glory of the idea wore off the moment that you realize Harry’s the only one with any kind of boat. Which means in order to have the relaxing getaway that you want, you'll have to deal with him for at least a few hours every day, if not every moment that the sun is up. If you’re completely honest, you don’t even understand how he’s going to get the yacht to Brighton when it’s kept in the States. You didn’t question it, though, because that’s the reason that Lexi gave you. Which means that has to be the reason that he has to go.

To top it off, it won’t even be like it normally is. If he gets you worked up enough, you can’t even just walk away and leave, you’ll be stuck on his boat in the middle of a body of water, with no way to swim to land without risking something bad happening.

You had already paid the deposit for the house, but you were fully willing to let someone else take your place on the trip. Were fully willing to give up the vacation because there’s no way in the world that you could spend an entire week with Harry without something terrible happening. Plus, there was only room for four people and there were many more than just that in your friend group. They could easily find a replacement.

When you had called back to tell Lexi and Sam that you weren’t going to be attending, they all but guilt tripped you into coming along, saying that they had invited you for a reason and that they would be really bummed out if you decided to stay behind and give someone your spot.They also gave you the look, the one they always hit you with when you back out of something just because of Harry. 

You felt bad, always ruining plans because you were in a constant argument with him, so you tried to put your pride to the side for a moment and at least listen to what they had to say.

Against your better judgement, you agree to go, but only because you would have your own room with a private bathroom attached, and your friends confirmed that they wouldn't say anything about you hiding away from Harry if he got to be too much. They also assured you that you and Harry would be separated for the majority of the trip. 

They knew that the both of you need a vacation, but neither of you can stand the other, so they promised that you would have an adequate amount of alone time to have the relaxation that vacations are supposed to bring.

After doing your shoot that night, you go home and pack the suitcases you'll need for the week that the four of you plan on staying there. You don’t pack much, just a single suitcase and a carry on. You check to make sure that you have your passport and that it’s valid, and that you have all the items from around the house that you’ll need.

Once everything is settled and put together, you flop down on your bed, switching on a random Netflix show that you’d been obsessed with lately and allowing yourself to drift off to sleep..

*

You’ll never know how your friends had let them talk you into letting them plan the entire trip. The only thing that you were told was how much your portion of the bills were and when they were due. It has annoyed you to no end, seeing that you are the type of person that likes to know every detail of what’s  going on. You had been on more than enough trips that had absolutely everything that could go wrong do exactly that, leading to ruined trip after ruined trip, that you’d rather know all the plans, maybe even make a list or two so that there are no missteps or slip ups when it comes to the actual vacation.

You texted Lexi a few hours before you had to leave to board the flight to ask if you could scan over the plans and the details of the trip, not to change anything, just to double check. Of course, she said no immediately, not understanding that you just wanted to look over it and make sure that everything was in order to calm your nerves. You didn’t want to explain this to her, though, knowing that she would begin to feel guilty for not letting you see it immediately, and that’s not what you wanted to happen.

If you had talked to her and she had actually allowed you to check literally anything for the trip, though, the first thing you would have ensured was that you wouldn’t be stuck on a plane right next to Harry for hours. You’ll never understand how she could put you in this situation, making you sit next to the most loathsome person in this world, who she knows that you can’t even be in the same room as for more than a few hours.

By the time the situation registers in your mind, however, he’s already loaded his carry on and sat down in the seat. Which means that it's definitely too late to do anything about it. Yeah, you’d rather not sit next to him for hours on end, but you’re definitely not going to cause a scene on an airplane full of people. Especially not when half of them already have their phones out, trying to discreetly take pictures of Harry.

Besides, the flight attendant is already coming around checking belts and the pilot is introducing himself and spouting out information that seemingly no one is paying attention to. This flight will be over in no time. At least that’s what you tell yourself to get through the next ten hours.

You groan, rolling your eyes at the irony of the situation. Of course something like this would happen. You had only agreed to a vacation because you needed relaxation. You needed a break from all the stress. But here you were, stuck right next to one of the biggest stress inducers in your life. Yeah, Lexi had promised you that you’d have plenty of time away from Harry at the rental house, but you were definitely making up for all the time that would be lost right now.

If you didn’t know better, you would think that Lexi and Sam were plotting against you. But that’s crazy, right? They wouldn’t do something like this on purpose, would they?

You lightly shake your head, pushing the thought from your mind. They wouldn’t do that.

You pull out your phone, queuing up the playlists you had downloaded prior to boarding. You knew that you’d want to shut yourself off from the world for the duration of the trip there, so you prepared accordingly.

You take one final glance around the cabin, seeing that everyone else has begun settling in and nobody else is announcing something important. You slip your headphones in your ears, ready to relax as much as possible throughout the flight. You know that the only way to completely avoid being pestered by Harry is to completely block him out.

The first song that comes on makes you want to laugh. You obviously don’t do such a thing, knowing that the outburst would cause every single person on the plane to look at you like you’re crazy. 

You couldn’t catch a break today. Of course one of his songs would be playing in your ears while your face was less than a foot from his. Of course it would actually be one of your favorites. You had never once in your life pressed the skip button on this song, but knowing that he’s as close to you as he is, you’re hesitant to even listen to the opening chords of the song.

“Carolina” blared through your headphones for a split second before you made up your mind and hit skip. You couldn’t risk being caught by him. There’s no way you would survive this if he found out that you listened to his music, especially since you have it saved to your playlist. There’s no way that you’d be able to play that off as you simply listening to it so that you could make fun of him for it later (which you wouldn’t do in general, you know how important his music is for him, and you’d never dampen the light that appears in his eyes when he talks about it. You’re not that cruel.).

It was quite frustrating, really. His music is fantastic, a perfect blend of the basic attributes that hook audiences that hear songs on the radio and a uniqueness that you can’t find anywhere else. His music was absolutely amazing, but the man that sang it… he was a different story.

You didn’t like to judge his tracks based on how fond of him you were when you first heard them. If you did that, you’d never listen to them in general. 

You’d never admit it to him, but every song of his, even the covers, was scattered throughout your playlists. And every once in a while, when nobody was around, you would listen to them and genuinely enjoy them. Sometimes you’d even dance along, and that’s a secret that you’ll take to the grave.

You wanted to drift off to sleep, but didn’t want to risk him hearing if one of his songs came on. Lord knows that he doesn’t need the ego boost. So, you turned the volume down until you were confident that nobody else could hear it. You lean your head back against the rest and let your eyes slip shut, finding sleep in seconds.

*

What seems like moments later, you’re being awoken by someone. You think that maybe it’s Lexi at first, but then you feel them, the rings that he never seems to take off. You jerk your body away from him, not wanting his hands to be on you. 

“Hey, it’s time to wake up. We’ve landed.” You open your eyes and glare at him, taking your headphones out. You can tell that he’s holding in a laugh and it makes you want to punch him right in the jaw. You choose not to do such a thing, however, because you’d rather not cause a scene on an airplane. So, you settle for flipping him off.

He chuckles before mimicking your action. You roll your eyes, standing up from the seat and grabbing your carry on. Harry steps back, letting you walk ahead of him. You think nothing of it until he pushes at the back of your knee, almost making you fall to the ground. What is he? A middle schooler? 

You can already tell that this is going to be a long trip, regardless of what Lexi and Sam had assured you. So far, what they had said had turned out to mean absolutely nothing to you. Not for the first time since you woke up this morning, you find yourself wishing that you hadn’t given in. That you had just said no and not let them talk you into it.

You walk with a bit more speed after you step off of the airplane, trying to get as far away from him as possible. You don’t want to have to add falling over in the middle of the airport to the list of reasons why you despise flying. You had only agreed to get on the plane this time because it was absolutely necessary in getting to Brighton.

You meet up with Sam and Lexi by the luggage pick up and all of you wait for your bags. You put all your effort into ignoring Harry, only looking in his direction or humming an approval when the conversation called for it.

“Alright, well. We need to get to the car rental service and then I have to go rent the yacht.” Harry says, making you snap your head up, looking straight at him. After a second, you turn to Lexi and Sam, looking between the two.

“Oh, no, no, no. Tell me you’re fucking joking.” You spit. “Harry just had to come, huh? And you wouldn’t let me back out? Harry’s the only one with a yacht? Yeah, he’s the only one with a yacht but he’s fucking renting one.” You can’t believe this. “Look, if I had known that me being stuck in a foreign country with him wasn’t completely necessary, I would have given someone else this vacation in a heartbeat.”

“Y/N come on…” Sam starts, but you cut him off.

“What, Sam? Want me to hold my tongue yet again so I don’t hurt Harry’s feelings?” You scoff. Why did they care about his feelings when he had never once taken yours into consideration? “Well, you know what? Fuck Harry’s feelings. He’s rude to me for absolutely no goddamn reason and I’m tired of it. I wanted to come on this god forsaken trip so that I could relax. Both of you,” you point back and forth between Sam and Lexi, “promised me that I would get to relax, that I would only be around Harry on the boat. But it seems like your word is bullshit, doesn’t it?”

Your luggage rolls around and you yank it off the conveyor. “Let’s go get the stupid ass cars. And Harry?” You turn to him, pointing your finger at him and tapping his chest. You ignore the way that the contact sends shivers up and down your spine. “Don’t you dare fucking say a word to me on the way there. Don’t touch me, for any reason. You know what? Just don’t even look at me. That should make everything a little more bearable, got that?” 

He nods, and with that, you walk towards the exit of the airport, knowing that there was no way you could continue that argument without bursting into tears. You weren’t upset in that way, you just had the habit to start crying when you were pissed off at someone to this point. They had really lied to your face. You know Lexi though, she’ll use the fact that she ‘technically didn’t lie because Harry is the only one with a yacht.’ 

You wait outside, knowing that they have the address to the car rental place, and there’s no way that you want to get lost here. You don’t look at any of them once they come out the doors, and they don’t make any effort to talk to you. 

The entire walk to the shop, you stay a few feet behind them, not wanting to be too close to any of them. It’s not even so much so that you were mad anymore, that had subsided. You were hurt. The fact that they lied to you? That was something that all of you had promised to never do to one another, even you and Harry. And what hurt even worse was the fact that the people that did lie to you weren’t who you expected to ever lie to you. If anyone was going to do something like that, you expected that it would have been Harry that did it, not them. It probably wouldn’t have hurt as much if it had been Harry, but only because you had mentally prepared yourself for him to betray you, had kept your walls up against him since the moment that he showed you who he was around you.

The walk to the rental store was a short one, leaving you barely any time alone with your thoughts, which you were completely fine with. You didn’t really want to be in your head right now.

Lexi walks in, leaving the three of you outside. She comes out a moment later with two sets of keys. “Alright, who’s riding with who?”

“I’ll ride with Sam, give Y/N some time away from me.” If he hadn’t said it with the hint of sarcasm that he did, his words could have been mistaken for sweetness. But you know how he is. He makes everyone else think that he’s such a sweetheart when really he’s a prick.

*

The house is nice. Really nice, actually. The moment you walk in, you’re met with the high ceilings of the entryway. You must admit that Lexi and Sam did a great job on picking the house that you’d be staying in for the week. You walk through the entryway and see a kitchen off to the side, it’s really modern, looks like it was just redone. There’s a sitting room directly adjacent to where you’re standing. And you can see multiple doors and a hallway that leads to other rooms, which you assume are bedrooms and the half bath that would be used for guests.

You immediately go to pick a room, knowing that nobody else really plans on being in their rooms at all, so it’s not like they’ll mind. You venture down the hallway and see a few art pieces. You smile to yourself. The house is really cute. You wouldn’t mind living somewhere like this when you find someone and settle down.

You look through all the rooms before choosing the one at the very end of the hallway. There’s a large four poster bed sitting in the middle of the room. There’s a bookshelf to the right of the bed and a nightstand with a cute little lamp on it to the left. Upon walking further into the room and scanning the entirety of it, you see that there’s a dresser against the wall opposite the bed. There’s a tv sat upon the dresser. To the right of that, there’s a door that leads to the bathroom.

Even if Harry does get on your nerves during this trip, you can always come in here and escape from it all. You smile at the thought. That was truly the first thing that had been seen as a positive since you had left your house that morning. 

Since it was already pretty late, you decided to hop in the shower. Grabbing your clothes for the night and walking into the bathroom. As soon as the door is closed, you begin peeling off your clothes. Just doing that puts you in a better mood, you had been wearing those clothes for far too long. They probably didn’t smell the best, having sat on your body for an entire plane ride.

You fiddle with the temperature settings on the shower for a moment before stepping in. The moment that the hot water hits your skin, you let out a sigh of relief. You can feel the muscles that had tensed up throughout the day start to relax.

After spending what feels like an adequate amount of time in the shower, you towel off and get dressed, making your way to the bed. You crawl under the plush comforter and immediately feel the exhaustion rack your body. You turn off the lamp and roll onto your stomach, letting sleep pull you into the blissful state where nothing bothers you

*

Lexi busted into your room early the next morning, shaking you awake until you turned to face her.

“Do you need Sam and me to get you anything from the store?” She chirped, far too giddy for any normal person to be this early in the morning.

That makes sense, though, because Lexi is far from normal. She has this electric personality, usually bringing out the absolute best in everybody.

She has been your best friend since high school. She took you under her wing during your sophomore year, her junior year.

Since then, you have been through a lot together. Crushes, relationships, heartbreaks, you and her yelling at the guy or girl that broke the other’s heart. You helped each other pick up the pieces when nobody else was there to help do so.

You had been through dozens of friendships since sophomore year, but the only one that has been a constant is her.

Sure, the both of you had changed. But you had changed together and supported one another through every decision.

You had seen her cycle through different haircuts - she had chopped off her brown curls during her senior year and instantly hated them, choosing to let them grow back out to their rightful place, right below her shoulders - and hair colors - when she cut her hair, she also dyed it a bright red, which you’re still convinced is the real reason she hated the length of it as well. You had also experienced her ever changing sense of style, which was actually a plus for you most times, because when she changed her taste and cleaned out her closet, she’d give you all of the clothes that no longer satisfied her, leaving you with a new wardrobe at least once a year.

And she had been there for you too, sticking with you through your ‘whore phase.’ Which really just consisted of you dating the ‘hottest guy in school’ - he wasn’t really that hot - and then rumors spread the next year that you were messing around with the ‘hottest girl in school’ - that one was the one that got you the label, all the guys being mad that they couldn’t get with her, seeing as she was strictly into girls. 

Lexi had also dealt with your late night calls, riddled with anxiety, not knowing what it is that you could possibly do with your future. She had calmed you down multiple times, talking through options with you. She was the reason that you came to realize that you wanted to be in the fashion industry in some way. 

She had already known what she wanted to do, had been aware of her dreams since before she even made it into high school. She used to tell you all the time, “Y/N, one of these days, I’m going to own a Fortune 500 company.” And that’s exactly what she had done. 

Which is the only reason that you got to be friends with all the people that you do. She’s also the one who introduced you to Harry, starting the rivalry between the two of you.

“No, I’m fine.” You groaned, rolling back over.

“Alright, sleepy head.” She chuckled, walking back out of your room and latching the door.

Once she’s gone, you reach over and grab your phone, checking the time. Seven A.M. You groan. Was she crazy? 

You’re definitely not pleased that you’re up this early. However, you decided to go ahead and stay up. Your alarm would be going off in two hours, and you know that you’ll be grumpy if you go back to sleep just to wake up then.

You pull yourself out of bed, trudging to the bathroom. You run through all the steps of your morning routine and emerge from the bathroom, ready to take on the day.

Your way of taking on the day is going to be picking a book from the bookshelf and laying in bed until around ten, when you’re scheduled to go out to the water for the day.

*

It’s almost ten when you get the text from Sam.

We’re running late, you and H go ahead and get on the water, we’ll rent jet skis to get out there. X

You roll your eyes, of course they’d be late. And of course they’d leave you to fend for yourself with Harry.

You quickly get dressed in your dark blue bikini, the one that accentuates all your curves perfectly. You then throw an oversized band tee over your head, making sure that you’re covered enough before walking out and making sure that Harry's ready and has everything that he’ll need for the day. You’re really not in the mood to have him forget something and have to come all the way back to the house.

When you reach the living room, he’s already by the door, dressed in a pair of yellow swimming trunks and a cream colored tee. He has the yacht keys in hand, along with his phone. He already has the cooler and the bag Lexi had packed with supplies for the day (sunscreen, portable chargers, etc.). 

You just stand there for a moment, looking him over, trying to ignore the feeling that you got in your stomach. You couldn’t place exactly what it was, but it had to be one of disgust, right? You couldn’t stand being around him, he was unnecessarily rude to you and you can’t tolerate him. That feeling couldn’t be anything good, it had to be disgust, or maybe it was resentment. Either way, it stopped you in your tracks.

“You coming or what, loser? It’s enough that it’s just us, do I need to hold your hand too?” He smirks.

You push down the rising feeling in your chest, and push past him, walking over to the passenger side of the suv that he had rented for the week. 

He takes his sweet time strolling over, popping the trunk and placing the bag and cooler in before slamming it shut again. He unlocks the doors and you slide in, buckling your seat. You refuse to look at him, knowing that if you make eye contact with him, he’ll be more inclined to say something dickish to you.

The ride to the water is mostly quiet, the only sound in the car being the music from the radio. Some top 40s song that you haven't heard yet was filling the air, causing the silence between you and Harry to be slightly less awkward. 

“What’re you gonna do when we get there?” He asks. You’re taken aback for a moment. Why was he even talking to you, let alone asking what your plans were for the day? Why was he being weird? “Because, honestly, you should probably tan, you look like a ghost.” There it is, the snide remark that was missing.

You scoff. “Harry, maybe don’t check me out every two seconds and you won’t notice.” You joke, knowing that he’s the last person on the planet that would ever check you out.

You expect him to hurl an insult back at you, tell you that he’d never check out someone as ugly as you, or tell you that he was only scanning to see what he could make fun of, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t say a word, and when you turn to him, you see that the tips of his ears are red and there’s a blush creeping up his neck. Was it really that embarrassing to be accused of checking you out? 

You don’t push him, thankful for the returning silence. It only takes a few more moments to get to the docks anyway, so it’s not like the silence is stretched out for too long.

You grab the cooler and the bag this time, knowing that he’ll have to drive the yacht, and you don’t feel like hearing about how lazy you are because you didn’t do enough.

The walk to the boat is silent and filled with tension. It’s like both of you want to say something, are dying to talk to the other, but you won’t. You don’t want to talk to him, you just want to talk to someone. It’s not the same. 

Once Harry gets everything ready, you climb onto the boat, setting everything down and pulling out the sunglasses that you had decided to bring at the last moment.

“So, where do you think we should go?” You ask, knowing that he’s been here before. He’ll know how far out you can go while still being able to anchor the yacht.

“Out on the water, duh.” His words are laced with sarcasm and it makes you want to throw him overboard. Too bad he’s the only person on this vacation that’s ever had enough down time to actually learn how to handle one of these things.

“You know what the fuck I meant, stop being an idiot.” You spit, hating how easily he got a rise out of you.

He chuckles before waving you off with a, “I know what I’m doing, darling, don’t worry about it.” 

He seems to catch what he says as soon as it slips out of his mouth, his eyes widening and the blush coming back to his features. You choose to ignore it. You’d rather just go up to the deck and tan.

For a split second, you debate on whether or not you should lay out, knowing that he would think you were doing it because of the comment that he made. But then you realize that you don’t actually give a fuck about what he has to say or what he thinks with his final two brain cells. 

So, you head up to the upper deck, stripping yourself of your shirt and laying out a towel for you to rest on.

You stay in that position, only moving to flip over so that each side gets an even amount of sun, until you hear jet skis approaching.

You push yourself up, wandering down to where Harry has set up his towel. Apparently he decided to sunbathe as well. It’s not like he needed it though, he has a tan that any woman would absolutely die for. 

You quickly give him a once over, halting when you realize that he’s put a stupid hat on his head. And not even just that, he has it on backwards. What was he trying to do, absolutely kill you? 

Here’s the thing, you hate Harry, sure. But you aren’t blind. You can see how attractive he is, how his tattoos run over his tanned skin, making you want to trace each detail with the tip of your finger, or more honestly, your tongue. His muscles always accentuate everything that he wears, regardless of whether it’s one of the custom Gucci suits or a random Nike tank that he threw on to go on a run. His face is damn near perfect, so much so that it makes you want to throw up. His cheekbones are high, jawline sharp. He was blessed with the dimples, which are only made even better by his eye crinkles. And God, his hands. His hands that are constantly adorned with rings, all of which could probably pay your rent for at least a year.

It’s really not fair. In all honesty, him being as completely flawless his physical attributes seem to be is absolutely not fair. You used to scoff at the fact that people were blessed with good looks. It was all genes, right? Wrong. Sure, Anne’s gorgeous and you’re sure that Desmond had to have had something going for him when Anne met him, but Harry? He came out to be a whole lot more attractive than anyone you had ever seen. And just to add on to everything, he was the person that you hated the most in the world.

You’re broken out of your thoughts by Lexi pulling up to the side of the boat and climbing in. She doesn’t even look at you, just walks farther into the yacht. You don’t think to question her, she’s probably annoyed by something that Sam said. But then you notice that Sam isn’t getting off his jet ski, does he plan on just not taking his shirt off the entire time?

Lexi comes bounding back to where you and Harry are standing, but she again doesn’t stop. She just keeps walking, clambering back onto her abandoned vehicle. You’re confused for a second, what’s going on? But then you see them, the keys dangling in her fist. You’d know those keys anywhere. They were put on Harry’s keychain the moment that he had picked them up. She has the yacht keys.

Before you can say anything about it, she’s driving off, yelling, “Have fun!” into the wind.

“They did not just-” You start, only to be cut off by Harry. Usually, you’d be annoyed by him, but this time, you have another source of irritation.

“Yeah, they just pulled an Outer Banks on us.” He sighs, walking back to where he had originally been laying. 

“Are you not mad?” You try to stop your eyes from tracing the expanse of his back, but it seems to be impossible.  The way that his muscles are flexing under the expanse of skin drawing you in.

“No, are you?” He sounds like he couldn’t care less, which is odd. Shouldn’t he be upset that he’s forced to spend an entire day alone with the person that he hates?

“Um, yeah.” You groan. Of course you’re mad, you don’t want to be here. How can he seem so calm?

“Why are you so fucking uptight all the time?” He blurts, catching you off guard. The words hit you like a train, knocking all the air out of your lungs. So this is why he hated you. You just thought that you gave him the wrong vibes or something, he seemed like the kind of person to judge based on that type of thing.

“What do you mean?” He looks over at you and rolls his eyes.

“I mean, why are you so uptight all the time?” For some reason, your chest tightens up and you feel like you’re going to cry. You’d known that he couldn’t stand you, that he’d rather not be around you, but hearing the real reason? Hearing what he really hates about you? That fucking hurts.

“Is that why you hate me?” At most, you had thought that maybe he just looked down on you, thought that you weren’t good enough to be part of the friend group because you didn’t own a fortune 500 company, or sell houses for the richest people in America, or sing to thousands upon thousands of adoring fans. But apparently not. Apparently he had an actual, legitimate reason, and for some reason, that stings.

“I don’t hate you.” You scoff and roll your eyes at him. Did he really think you’d believe that? “I just think that you’re uptight and you get on my last nerve.” 

“You hate me, Harry. Don’t try to lie about it.” He can say what he wants, but people that don’t hate you don’t act the way that he does.

“I don’t hate you, I just strongly dislike you.” This makes you snicker. He’s such an idiot sometimes.

“That’s literally just you saying that you hate me with a different word choice.” He looks over at you, and you see the little tufts of curls sticking out from the side of his hat. The sight makes your chest ache, why does he have to be so fucking cute? Why couldn’t you be blessed with an ugly enemy?

“Whatever.” He sighs, brushing the conversation to the side.

You want to continue, but you’re almost scared to. You could just walk back up to the upper deck and continue tanning, or you could even go for a swim, but instead, you stay right where you are. You subconsciously start to play with a loose string on the shirt that you had slipped back on before coming down to Harry.

“I’m not uptight, by the way.” You say after a few moments of silence. 

He scoffs, “Yes you are.”

“How so?” You’d love to hear him explain this one, even though it’ll probably either hurt you even more or infuriate you. But you’d like to know why he thinks you’re so uptight,

“You think you’re better than everyone, especially your friends. You have the money to do what you want but you turn your nose up at the finer things in life and give all of us dirty looks when we drink from the top shelf or buy something super expensive.” You’re speechless for a moment, but he doesn’t seem to be done, so it doesn’t really matter. “You act like there’s something better about you getting cheap tequila and wearing the same clothes over and over again. Well, think about it this way, yeah, I buy from the top shelf and I wear a lot of new clothes, but most of those clothes, I get sent. Most of them I don’t even pay for. Which honestly, you’ll probably find to be worse. But yeah, you’re uptight.”

After a moment, the words ignite a fire in you. “First of all, that shows how little you know about me, Styles. I don’t have the money to do what I want. I have money, sure. But not that much. I have enough money from my job to pay for rent, bills, food, and then have a little bit to splurge on myself.” You really don’t want to have this conversation with him, you don’t like to talk about your financial situation with anyone, let alone him. “But nowhere near enough to spend excessive amounts on alcohol or drop almost a grand on a striped t-shirt with a pig on it that’s literally the size of my fingernail. Not all of us can be big shot CEO’s or superstars.”

He looks shocked by your words, which just further added to your point. He didn’t know you, not at all. He pretended to know you, made assumptions about you, all of which seemed to make him hate you more and more.

“Well you still give us dirty looks.” You almost snort at his feeble attempt to save his argument.

“I literally don’t but okay. I don’t really care what you think about me. Hate me if you want to. You’ll be annoying either way.” You turn on your heel to get as far away from his as possible, but he stops you with his words.

“I’m not annoying.” This time, you actually do let out a chuckle. Him thinking that he’s not an annoying little prick is honestly better comedy than the specials they try to run on TV.

“The fuck you aren’t, Harry. All you do is make snide comments.” Who did he think he was? A saint?

“I do not. Don’t start your shit, Y/N.” He glares at you, but his looks don’t have the effect that he wishes this time, they just add fuel to the fire still burning bright inside of you.

“Don’t start my shit?” You snicker. He has to be fucking kidding. “You tell me how trashy I look in outfits that I think I look great in. You tell me my makeup looks like shit and that if I was trying to impress someone, I failed, even though all I do is put it on for myself. You tell me to stop trying so hard to get attention when I’m literally trying to blend in as much as possible.” You’re trying to hold the emotion back, to not cry in front of him, because you’ve already spent enough time crying over the things that he’s said. “You call me a slut when I have a one night stand like you don’t literally bring a different girl hom every fucking night. So I don’t wanna hear it, Harry.”

If looks could kill, the one that he’s giving you at the moment would have you six feet under. “You don’t fucking know me. I don’t bring a new girl home every night, you make me sound like a fuckboy.” 

You roll your eyes. “I could make you sound a lot worse. And maybe there’s not one every night, but there’s at least one a week, and I have a one night stand what, maybe once every couple months? If even that?” You let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, maybe I don’t know you, but that’s not my fault. I didn’t make the choice to not know you. You pushed me away the second you met me, even though I did nothing to you. You didn’t let me know you. But you don’t know me either.” The tears are gathering in your eyes and threatening to spill onto your cheeks. You look up towards the sky, trying to make them subside. Once you feel confident enough in the fact that they won’t drop, you look back at him. “You’re not just annoying, you’re a dick. The shit you say? God, if you knew how much that shit can hurt someone.”

“Don’t come at me and say that any of that hurts you. You fire right back and then go on with your day.” The smirk that he has plastered on his face makes you want to knock him into a new dimension, but you compose yourself. He isn’t worth it.

“Yeah, of course I just let it roll off my shoulders while I’m around you. Have you ever thought about why that is? About why I seem to not care?” Your voice has slowly but surely become louder. “It’s because I’m not going to cry my eyes out and let myself wonder if maybe you’re right, that maybe I do look like shit and should cover up as much of my body as possible, right in front of you!” By the end, you’re screaming, and you don’t even care. 

You take a deep breath and continue, “I can’t give you the fucking satisfaction. Because Lord knows that you’ll just hold that over my head too.”

That seems to have some sort of effect on him. His face falls almost immediately, that god awful smirk disappearing. His eyes seem to get softer, and a part of you wants to walk over and hug him. But you don’t. Of course you don’t. He’s the guy you hate the most.

“I didn’t know you felt that way.” He mumbles as you’re getting ready to head back to the upper deck.

“I’m sorry.” He tries, but you’re not going to let him off the hook that easy.

“Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it, Harry. It’s not like you're even sorry anyway. You don’t care about me, so don’t start acting like you do now.” With that, you turn on your heel and make your way back up to continue tanning.

Once you get back to your towel, you let the few stray tears fall. You hate that he has the power to make you cry, but you can’t help it. He just gets to you, regardless of how hard you try to guard yourself from him.

He comes up after a few minutes and you look over at him, waiting for an explanation.

“I’m going for a swim. If you need anything, I’ll be in the water.” He states, and you turn back around.

“Have fun.” You spit, the words laced with sarcasm. 

He doesn’t reply. You hear his footsteps receding and then a splash signaling that he’s jumped off of the boat.

For some reason, you have a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach. At first, you ignore it, but then you stop hearing the sloshing of the water. You can’t help but let yourself get a little panicked. You may not be the biggest fan of the guy, but you can’t just let him drown.

You stand up from your spot on the towel and walk over to the side of the boat that you heard the initial splash come from.

You make your way back down to where you and Harry had fought. You grimace at the thought. Had that really been one of the last things he ever heard? No, you can’t think like that. 

You look to your right and notice that all four life jackets are still hooked on the railing. Of course he didn’t take a life jacket. Anything could have happened to him and now you wouldn’t even be able to float. He could be sinking to the bottom, never to be found again.

Yeah, he can swim. He’s actually a really good swimmer, but he could have hit his head on the boat when he jumped in. Or he could have dove down under the water and ended up getting caught on something. 

You rush over to slip one of the life jackets and grab an extra. The last thing that you needed was to find him and not be able to drag him back to the boat because he’s too heavy.

You jump in, the life jacket keeping you afloat. With there being no need to concentrate on not drowning, you focus all your efforts on finding Harry. You can’t see him anywhere in the general vicinity, so you start looking under the water as long as you’re able to.

You’re trying your hardest, but you can’t find him. 

You start to panic. Suddenly you find it hard to breathe and the tears are streaming down your face. You immediately blame yourself. You should have just stopped earlier, should’ve realized that there’s a better time to argue with him. Maybe if you had just been a little nicer, the two of you could have gotten along for the day. Why didn’t you just stop? Why didn’t you at least accept his apology?

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by a strong pair of arms wrapping around you. You scream, not knowing who it could possibly be. You twist in their arm, realizing that it was only Harry.

You push away from him. “What the fuck, Harry? I thought you died!”

“Really? And you came out here to look for me?” He asks, and for a moment, you think he might be grateful, but you can already see the smirk forming on his lips. You choose to ignore it for the moment, though.

“Yeah, I couldn’t hear you swimming around anymore and I thought maybe you had hit your head on something or gotten pulled under or something like that. Where were you?” You’re trying to wipe the tears off of your face, but your hands are just as soaked as your face, so it does absolutely no use.

“The other side of the boat, why didn’t you just check over there?” His smirk is present in full force now.

“I don’t know, slipped my mind, I guess.” You mumble, knowing that this could have all been avoided if you had just looked on the other side of the boat.

“Seems pretty fucking stupid of you.” He chuckles.

You push even further away from him, throwing the life jacket you had brought for him in his face. “You’re such a fucking dick! Sorry that I cared too fucking much about your life to check the entire perimeter of the boat before trying to save you!”

You can’t believe him. You didn’t think of one thing, in the heat of the moment, and now you’re stupid? Wow. Okay, next time you’ll just let him drown.

You start to swim back towards the boat. He’s following you, but you don’t care enough to acknowledge it.

“I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant, I swear. I know I can be an asshole but I'm not that heartless.” You don’t even turn back to him.

“Problem is, Styles, you really are that heartless.” You spit, climbing back onto the boat, trying to get as far away from him as possible.

He clambers up after you, trying to get your attention. You actively ignore him, though.

He grabs your wrist, wrapping his fingers around the joint. You spin on your heel.

“Let me go, Harry.” you demand.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” His eyes are pleading with you, but you genuinely can’t care any less. 

“Seems pretty fucking stupid of you.” You throw his words back at him.

His face immediately falls, not liking how the words hurt him. He deserves it though. All you were trying to do was help him and he was an absolute prick. 

You storm back up to your towel, laying down and trying to dry yourself off. 

Not too long after you head back up, he brings you a sandwich that he made with the supplies he had packed in the cooler.

“Thought you might be hungry.” He mumbles when he sits the plate down. He doesn’t wait for you to respond, just turns back and heads to where he came from.

You wait until he’s gone to eat, only doing so because it’s already made and you wouldn’t want the food to go to waste.

*

What seems like eons later, but was definitely only hours, Lexi and Sam get dropped off at the boat by a random couple you’ve never seen before.

You rush down to where they are.

“Did you guys get any closer?” Sam asks. 

You just roll your eyes and stick your hand out. “If you don’t hand the keys back this fucking instant, I will not hesitate to jump off this boat and swim back to the docks.”

Lexi looks at you with wide eyes and hands over the keys. The moment that you have them in your hands, you stomp over to Harry and chuck them at him.

“Drive this stupid ass boat back to the docks, and don’t you dare fuck around or you’ll get thrown overboard and I won’t bother to come looking for you.” He doesn’t argue with you, just picks up the keys and makes his way to the wheel.

“What happened?” Lexi questions, but you just brush her off.

“Ask him, he’ll tell you with a fucking smirk on his face.” You walk over to the bench and sit down, not wanting to talk to anyone else throughout the trip back.

*

It only registers with you that you’ll have to ride back to the house with Harry after you get to the docks.

“I’m walking home.” You announce, knowing that it’ll only take fifteen minutes tops to get back to the rental.

“What are you talking about?” Harry and Sam ask at the same time.

You ignore Harry, turning back to Sam. “I’m walking back to the house. It shouldn’t take me long, and there’s no way in hell I’m riding with him.”

With that, you turn and start walking. The road is secluded, lined by trees.

After a few minutes, they drive up to you. Harry rolls down his window. “Y/N, come on, I’ll walk if it’s that big of a deal.”

You raise your hand, flipping him off. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your Gucci shoes.”

He sighs, rolling the window back up and continuing to drive. He knows better than to argue with you right now. There’s no way that he’ll win.

You slow your stride, wanting to prolong the walk as long as possible. You only speed back up when the clouds start to turn into a viscous shade of gray.

The one thing that could bother you more than Harry is thunderstorms. And you can tell by the state of the sky that a bad one’s coming.

*

You sneak back into the house, pushing the door open as quietly as possible. Thankfully, there’s nobody in the living room. Everyone seems to have retired to their rooms. 

As you’re creeping down the hallway, you hear Harry talking to Lexi. Her door is slightly ajar and you can’t help but stop and listen.

“No, no. Lexi, I know. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have called her stupid. All she was trying to do was help me. God, I’m such a fucking idiot.” You can hear his voice waiver and you think for a moment that he might be crying. You quickly push the thought from your mind. Why would Harry be crying over you?

“Yeah, you did fuck up. Harry, this isn’t how you treat people that you care about.” Every trace of air leaves your lungs at that. Since when does Harry care about you? You want to blame it on him lying, but why would he? It’s just Lexi. And they have no way of knowing that you’re here. He must be telling the truth. 

“I know, I know. We were arguing before then, She told me about how shitty I make her feel and it absolutely tore my heart into pieces. I don’t mean to make her feel that way.” You can’t deny that he’s crying, hearing the sob come less than a millisecond after he finishes.

“I know that, H. But she doesn’t, She thinks you get a kick out of hurting her. She really thinks you hate her.” You can visualize what she’s doing, knowing how she comforts like the back of your hand. She’s running her hand over Harry’s back, trying to soothe him. And if that doesn’t work, she’ll push his hair back and wipe the tears from his face, tell him that it’ll all be okay.

“I’m aware. But I don’t, I hate hurting her. That’s what I hate, not her.” If he doesn't hate you, then why does he act the way that he does?

“Then go show her.” You smile, Lexi knows you so well. She knows that you judge people off their actions. And that you don’t believe a word anyone says until they show you that their words actually mean something.

“Alright. I will when she gets home.” The determination in his voice makes your heart swell. 

You hear him get off of his bed and you scurry to your room, not wanting to face him, and really not wanting to get caught eavesdropping. You slip inside and close your door just in the nick of time. Half a second after you’re out of sight, you hear his feet padding along the hallway to his room.

You sigh, a million thoughts running through your head. 

Could he really care about you?

If he does, why is he so rude to you all the time?

How does he expect to make this up to you?

You decided to take a shower. Not only to get clean, but also to clear your head. The second the water hits your skin, you know that there’s no way this shower is going to be as quick as you had planned. For a long time, you just stand under the stream of water, letting your mind run rampant with the thoughts of Harry. 

Is it a good thing that he could care about you? Sure, you see how he is with everyone else, and you’ve always craved to have that with him. And hating him is absolutely exhausting, most of the time you’d rather just fall into the easy conversation that he’s able to have with the rest of his friends. 

But would it be that easy? Probably not. Nothing was ever that easy when it came to him.

Are you willing to work for it? If Harry takes the initiative and tries to show you that he does care, then yes.

Once you come to that conclusion, you realize just how long that you’ve been in the shower. Your body is starting to prune, and the water has gotten significantly cooler.

You step out and throw on the shirt that you slept in the night before, but not slipping on the shorts.

You open the bathroom door and trudge over to the bed, flopping down and switching the lamp off. 

Usually, you could never fall asleep comfortably during storms, but after the day that you’ve had, your eyes are shut and sleep is overtaking you in mere moments.

*

Far too soon, you’re being shaken awake. 

The first thing you notice is that it’s dark outside. Who in their right minds is waking you up before sunrise, you don’t know.

The second thing you notice is the chill of someone’s cold rings on your skin. The contact makes a shiver run down your spine. 

You immediately roll over and face him. The sight of him is not great. He’s soaked from head to toe, water dripping on the floor. You almost have the nerve to scold him for not drying off, but then you realize that he has no reason to be wet. What did he do? What happened to him?

“When did you get home?” He asks, voice sticking in his throat.

“Earlier. Why are you wet?” Your voice is hoarse from sleep and you pray that you don’t sound revolting.

“Went out in the storm.” He shrugs. “None of us heard you come home. I guess when I checked in here earlier you were in the shower or something.”

“Why did you guys go looking? You could’ve just called or texted.” You say, then realize that you may have seemed ungrateful. “Not that I’m complaining, thanks for worrying about me.”

“Well, you see, Sam and Lexi thought you’d be fine. You know the way home, after all. They just thought you had stopped somewhere to cool off and wait out the storm. I went looking though, I was really worried. And I didn’t text or call because I, um, don’t exactly have your phone number.” He lets out a dry chuckle, running his hands through his hair.

Your heart swells. Harry went looking for you. He walked right out into a thunderstorm because he was worried that you were stuck out there by yourself.

“Hey, um, so I didn’t mean to eavesdrop or anything, but I heard a snippet of your conversation with Lexi earlier while I was walking to my room.” You gulp, hoping he doesn’t think you’re creepy or anything. “Did you really mean what you said?”

“Which part did you hear?” His question is laced with anxiety and he looks like he’s seconds away from passing out.

“Um, from the part where you said you fucked up and didn’t really hate me.” You mumble.

“Yeah, I meant every word. I also meant it when I said I was gonna show you that I care about you.” He looks up, meeting your eyes. You can’t help the feeling you get in your chest. This man just went out into the pouring rain, lightning falling all around him, just to look for you.

“I think you already did, H.” Regardless of how he treated you in the past. Hell, how he treated you in the past twenty four hours, you can’t help but see tha the really does care about you. Lexi and Sam, the two people in the house who were supposed to not hate you in the slightest didn’t even go looking, but the one person who was supposed to not give a fuck about whether you’re breathing or not did.

“Did you- you just called me H?” He stumbles, and a smile comes to your face.

“Yeah? So?” He said it like it was a good thing, but you could never be too sure with him.

“So, you’ve never done that before.” His expression is unreadable. Usually you can tell exactly what he’s thinking, but right now you’re coming up blank.

“Do you not want me to? I can stop saying it.” You wouldn’t ever want to do something that he’s uncomfortable with, you just thought that’s what everyone called him.

“No!” he blurts. “No, please don’t stop. I like the way it sounds coming from you.”

“Alright.” you grin “H.”

The smile that breaks out over his face is the biggest that you’ve ever seen. “Wait, what did you mean I already did?” He wonders. 

 “You just risked getting sick to go out in the pouring rain to try to find me.” Which reminds you, if he doesn’t get in a warm shower and some dry clothes soon, he’s going to catch something.

“It’s the least I could do.” His cheeks are turning a light shade of pink, and you really hope that it’s a blush and not him being cold.

“Yeah, but that shows me that you care, H.” You say, getting up from the bed and checking to see if you had brought the extra sweatpants and sweatshirt. Unfortunately, you hadn’t. 

“I’m sorry, by the way. Like really sorry. I hate myself for what I said. I’m so stupid. You were just trying to save me and I was a dick.” You appreciate the sentiment, you really do, but right now, that’s not your concern.

“It’s fine.” You mumble, because, really, it is.

“No, it’s not.” He doesn’t want to believe it, but it really is. You wouldn’t be letting him drip excessive amounts of water on the floor if you were still mad at him. 

“Yes, H, it is. Now come on, let me go get you some clean clothes. Go get in the shower, there are towels in the bathroom.” You’ve come to the realization that you’d have to retrieve his clothes, seeing as you hadn’t exactly planned for something like this.

“Y/n, it’s fine. I can just go take a shower in my room.” He tries, but you immediately refuse.

“No. You can take one in here so I know that you take one and don’t just change into dry clothes.” The look he gives you lets you know that was exactly what he was planning to do.

“I’m not gonna win this, am I?” You chuckle, pleased that he knows well enough to not argue with you any further on this.

“Not a chance, now get your ass in there.” You put your hands on his shoulders and nudge him towards the bathroom. You try your hardest to not think about the way his muscles ripple underneath your digits.

“Alright, alright. I’m going.” He concedes, trodding into the bathroom.

You wait until you hear the water running before you exit the room to find his clothes. You make the journey to his room, grabbing boxers and a pair of sweatpants from his bag. You don’t bother trying to find a shirt, knowing from the countless times that he’s stripped out of one to take a nap at a friends house that he never wears them to bed.

You make your way back to your room, sitting the clothes down on the small table sat outside the bathroom door.

His vast collection of rings is placed on the table as well. He must have taken them off and sat them there after you left. 

Without thinking, your hand reaches out and picks up the rose ring that adorns his hand more often than not. It’s gorgeous, and you can’t stop your fingertips from running across the designs. The band is etched with leaves and vines, and upon further inspection, you feel that there’s a little caterpillar seemingly hidden on the inner part of the ring.

It’s heavy in your hand and you can't help but wonder just how much metal was used to make this ring. It’s obvious that it was hand etched, so your mind tries to picture how big the piece was before the carving started.

After a few moments, you place it back on the table, picking up his Cartier ring. You wonder for a moment how something so simple could cost the ridiculous price that it did. Sure, it’s absolutely gorgeous, but the price tag that you know it carries is enough to make the appeal fade. You don’t have the luxury of dropping thousands on a ring.

He opens the door and you immediately drop the ring, cheeks burning from being caught. You know how much he adores his rings, and you’re scared for a split second that you’ve overstepped, crossed a boundary that he wouldn’t be comfortable with.

All your worries are washed away, though, when he says, “Wear it.” He reaches over for his clothes, a towel wrapped around his waist.

You gawk at him. Was he serious? “H, I can’t do that.” You go to scramble away, before your eyes get caught on the way that the water droplets from the shower cling to him, the sheen making his tattoos even more vivid. God, what you would do to trace every line and seemingly miniscule detail.

He gives you a soft smile, and your heart speeds up to a rate that has to be unhealthy, especially since you’re sitting still, your back rimrod straight. “Yes you can. Go ahead, put it on.” He urges.

You sigh, picking up the Cartier ring that you had been admiring moments prior and slip it on your ring finger, that being the one you wear all rings on. You glance up at him through your lashes and you can see the way that his eyes seem to have lit up. You try to ignore the way your stomach flutters, the butterflies going absolutely wild.

He chuckles, looking down at your finger, where the ring sits, looking about five sizes too small. You join along, letting a lighthearted laugh slip through your lips. It truly was ginormous on you, but you expected no less. He does have large hands, after all.

“I’ve got a chain around here somewhere, keep the ring.” He says nonchalantly, like he’s not gifting you a fucking Cartier ring.

“Harry, no, it’s too expensive.” You can’t possibly accept this ring, so you really hope that he doesn’t fight you on it. You’re pretty sure you’d say yes to just about anything if he keeps looking at you like he’s just seen the most precious thing in the world.

“If you don’t keep it and wear it, I’ll never wear it again, so it might as well be worn by you.” He argues, giving you the stern look that you know well. It’s always the one that says not to argue back, that he’ll just continue pestering you if you do.

Knowing that the argument would go on for hours on end if you didn’t, you reluctantly agree.

He gives a triumphant smile before returning to the bathroom, clothes in hand.

A moment later, he comes back out into your room and your ability to breathe is gone. You swear he’s the most perfect person you’ve ever seen. Sure, you’ve seen how pretty he is before, but you’ve never let yourself truly see how perfect he is. Maybe you prematurely judged that article. Maybe they had a point. 

The muscles in his upper body ripple under his tan skin, making your mouth damn near water. You avert your eyes from his shoulders to his chest, admiring the butterfly inked onto his abdomen. You had always adored that tattoo, at times you even wished that you had thought of the idea before he had. You see the way that the ferns underneath trace his lower stomach, the endings leading a trail right to the band of his sweatpants. 

God, why would you get him gray sweatpants? At this view, your mouth actually does water, wondering how good he would look with even less on.

Him shuffling over to pick up his rings is what breaks you out of your trance, your cheeks heating up from the thoughts that had been running through your mind.

He places each of the rings carefully back on his hands, sans the Cartier ring. He left that one on the table, looking up at you with a smirk.

He begins to make his way out the door, but you stop him.

“H,” you give him your best puppy eyes when he stops and looks over his shoulder at you, “Will you stay with me? I’m scared of thunderstorms.”

“Are you really?” He doesn’t say it in a mocking way, it’s more in a perplexed way. You’re not confused by this in the slightest, as far as he used to be concerned, you’re not scared of anything.

“Yeah,” you admit, “but I also want to get to know you. Feel like we’ve missed a lot while hating each other.”

He sighs, “Never hated you.”

You smile, “I know, I know, but I thought you did. Made me not able to get to know you very well.”

“Alright.” He agrees. “Let me go put my rings up and get that chain for you and then I’ll stay.”

You wait patiently as he does just that, wondering why you had never just taken the time to talk to him before. Would it really have been that simple? 

“Here you are.” He speaks when he reenters the room, walking over to the stand and placing the ring on the chain. Once he’s done, he gently sets it back down, ensuring that the chain doesn’t get tangled, and then trudges over to you.

He sits on the edge of the bed, probably just intending to stay until you fall asleep, and at first you’re fine with that. But then you start to get progressively more tired, and your clinginess starts kicking in, that fact that you’re touch starved not helping.

“H.” you groan, making his ears perk up and his eyes snap to yours.

“Hmm?” he wonders.

You make grabby hands at him. “Come cuddle with me.”

A smile breaks out on his face and your stomach does the flippy thing that makes your heart race.

He slowly crawls towards you, as if he’s giving you enough time to take back your words, to give him any sign that you regret ever asking him to come up to you. Once he’s right beside you and you’ve made no move to stop him, he slips under the covers and pulls you close.

You immediately sigh in content and place your head on his chest, the sleepiness taking over more and more as you listen to his heartbeat against your ear.

RIght before you completely drift off, you mumble, “You’re not as bad as I thought you were.” You hope he hears you, but you don’t have the time to check, sleep overtaking your body and pulling you under.

*

When you wake up the next morning, you let your eyes stay shut, not wanting to be greeted with the sunlight just yet.

You shift slightly and realize that you’re still laying with Harry. You can feel his solid chest under your head, your legs are tangled with his. 

After a moment, you can feel him looking at you, “It’s rude to stare, H.” You joke, expecting him to laugh.

He doesn’t, though, instead he just whispers, “Can’t help it. You’re beautiful.” 

You immediately blush, burning under the compliment. You’re still not used to being this close to Harry in general, but receiving compliments from him is even weirder.

“Can I tell you something?” You look up at him, waiting for him to accept your question.

“Yeah, anything.” He holds eye contact with you, your faces mere inches apart. You could very easily push yourself up and attach your lips to his, but you refrain, not wanting to push too far. You had just started really talking to each other last night.

“I never hated you either.” You say, the words barely audible. You’re ashamed of it, of the fact that you pretended to hate him, probably making everything worse than it had to be.

“Really?” He looks hopeful, like he’s praying that you’re not joking with him. 

“Really. I just thought that you hated me. Figured that we should at least balance each other out.” You let out a humorless laugh, trying to make light of the situation, but you still can’t shake the guilt. You probably could have been lying in bed with him a long time ago had you just made it clear that you didn’t hate him.

“So all this time, neither one of us hated the other, but we both thought we did?” He has a smirk etched on his face, and a very large part of you wants to close the space between the two of you. You can’t handle the smirk right now, not when his chestnut curls are framing his face the way that they are. Not when his bare chest is still pressed against you, warming you up in the most delightful way.

“Basically.” You can’t help but giggle. The situation really is quite ridiculous.

You move to get up and he pouts, holding onto you and trying to get you to stay in his arms, he’s enjoying the warmth that you’re radiating. 

“Where are you going?” He whines, making your throat constrict. He sounds so pretty when he whines.

“I’ve gotta pee, I’ll be right back.” You promise, knowing that the words will soothe him.

“Don’t go…” He tries giving you puppy dog eyes, but they won’t work this time, not when you can feel the urge to use the bathroom growing.

“I have to pee, but I promise I’ll come back to exactly where I was when I’m done.” You reach over to him and push a stray curl behind his ears, reveling in how soft that his hair is.

“Good, I wanna keep cuddling.” He mumbles, and you can’t help but feel the butterflies return yet again. You can’t believe that Harry was just begging you to stay curled up in bed with him.

It all seems a little off, having him in your bed, cuddling with you. Less than twenty four hours prior, you were screaming at each other on a boat about how much you can’t stand each other, and now neither of you do? You come to find out that the both of you were faking it this entire time? The entire situation is a little confusing, but you’re a lot happier with it than you were with being at each other's throats all the time.

Now that the two of you are being more honest with each other, you figure it’s probably time to start being more honest with yourself. And that starts with admitting the feelings that you’ve been suppressing for him. 

You had seen how attractive he was the moment that you had even laid eyes on one of the numerous articles about him. You aren’t shallow though, that’s not what made you have the feelings that you had developed for him. You could also see just how nice he was to everyone else, how he lit up every room that he walked into. How everyone was always put into a better mood just by his presence. You began to fall for that version of himself, the one that he was with everyone else. You had caught feelings before he even said a word to you. There were times when you had been at the same party or event, and you’d be able to feel the effect he had on everyone else. And at first, that was intimidating, but then you felt a pull to him. Like the two of you were magnets and were destined to be together.

But then you actually talked to him, and everything went south.

Now, though, you’ve realized that he’s only like he is with you because he thought that you hated him. Which is absurd to you, but you were quite distant that night. You had been overwhelmed, thinking that you were inferior to him in every way that night. Maybe that’s why he thought that you hated him, because you didn’t show that much interest, because you seemed like you didn’t want to get to know him.

You don’t really know how to process that information. This entire thing had initially been your fault, had you just gotten over yourself and realized that you’re good enough to talk to him, all of this could have been avoided.

As you wash your hands and get ready to exit the bathroom, you can’t help but wonder what everything’s going to be like. How are you going to act around each other? Is it gonna change? Are you still going to bicker or are you going to act like everything’s perfectly fine? 

You scoff at yourself, of course you’re still going to bicker, that’s who you are. Plus, nobody’s perfect, all friends argue about something at points.

When you come out of the bathroom he’s sitting on the end of the bed. You raise your eyebrows in question. “Thought we were gonna keep cuddling?” 

He quickly rises when he sees you. “Had a slightly better idea.” He holds out his hand and waits for you to take it.

“I’m more of a touchy kind of person.” He starts after you take his hand. “I show that I care about people by physical touches.” He pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist. “If we’re gonna tell them that we don’t hate each other, we’ve got to at least make it believable.”

“Stop making it sound like we’re pretending.” You laugh. “You just cuddled with me throughout the night. There’s no way in hell we hate each other. But yeah, I’m that way too, so I don't mind the touches.” You assure, pulling back and reconnecting your hands.

He gives you a reassuring look as you walk out of your room and into the sitting room. Sam and Lexi stop the conversation they were having immediately and look over at the two of you. Their jaws are on the floor within moments, obviously not believing what they're seeing. 

“Why are you holding hands?” Sam blurts, breaking the silence that had blanketed the room.

“H, you only do that with girls you’re dating or girls that you’re friends with. What’s happening?” Lexi adds, a hopeful glimmer in her eyes.

“Wanna explain?” Harry asks, squeezing your hand.

“Sure.” You say.

You begin to explain it to them, making sure to get all the details. Harry’s mostly quiet beside you, only inputting anything when you forget something.

For a moment after you finish, the silence is back. Lexi and Sam look at you like you’re absolutely insane. After a minute of letting their brains process the information, they finally let smiles break out on their faces, jumping up from the couch to hug the both of you, excited that you guys can finally get along.

*

After a little while of the four of you sitting around and talking, it’s decided that everyone should go out on the yacht. This time, though, nobody will be stealing any keys.

Once you get out to the desired spot on the water and anchor the boat, you turn to Harry. “Hey, H?” 

“Yeah, love?” He used the term like it’s no big deal, but it makes your stomach churn in the best way possible.

“Wanna go swimming? Promise not to think you’ve drowned again.” You chuckle.

Harry doesn’t seem as amused though, still feeling guilty about how he treated you. “Sure, promise not to be a dick again.”

You walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your head into his chest. “I told you it was alright, H. Stop beating yourself up over it.”

He sighs, nodding his head. You grab his hand, pulling him along the deck to the edge of the boat.

“Wanna jump together?” You look over at him and see the smile break out across his face, the dimples and eye crinkles out in full force.

“Yeah, love, let’s do it.” Before you can think too much about the second use of the word, he’s counting down from three and then you’re jumping, body submerging into the crystal water.

If you had been paying more attention to anyone besides Harry, you would have seen the way that Lexi and Sam were caught up in watching you, wondering how in the world the two of you had done a full one eighty in less that twenty four hours. Sure, they wanted the two of you to get along, but they never expected you to get this close as fast as you did.

After a while of swimming around with Harry, you decide to get out and try to tan, seeing as not everyone can be actors that get paid to go swimming and get tans.

As you do so, you can feel Harry’s eyes on your body, but you choose not to acknowledge it. For a moment, you want to invite him to come tan with you, but you don’t want to make your feelings too obvious to him.

*

When it starts to get dark, Lexi proposes that everyone head back to the deck. You agree, ready to go home and get out of your bikini. 

Harry tries to get you to drive the yacht, even trying to teach you, but to no avail, you have absolutely no skill when it comes to driving boats.

Once you get to the docks and clamber off the yacht, the group splits up, Lexi and Sam going towards their car while you and Harry head towards his.

“Are you hungry, darling?” He ponders once you’re settled in the car.

“I mean a little bit, why?” You reach over to turn on the radio, letting the soft sounds of music play through the car.

“I saw this cute little diner when I was looking for you last night.” He says, handing you his phone. “Plug up the aux cord and play something from Spotify.”

You scroll through his spotify, seeing that his work out playlist is just One Direction songs. You almost snort, but don’t want to give away the song you’re going to choose.

After another moment of scrolling, you turn the volume on the speakers all the way up, clicking on “What Makes You Beautiful” and letting the opening chords play through the car.

He smirks, looking over at you. “I hope you know that you’re expected to scream this with me.”

Your features mirror his, “Oh, trust me, I planned on it.”

*

When you reach the diner, you see just how cute it really is. But then you realize that the two of you had been in the car for almost twenty minutes, which arguably isn’t a long time, but to walk this far it would have taken forever.

“H, you walked this far looking for me?” You ask, although you already know the answer.

“Yeah. Well, technically, I walked further.” He blushes at his words and your heart melts in your chest. You can’t help but feel a little guilty, though. It had been storming, full on thunder and lightning every few seconds. He could have gotten hurt, yet he put his safety to the side because he thought that you hadn’t come home yet. If only you had put aside your pettiness and just let everyone know that you had arrived home safely, he wouldn’t have had to walk out in the storm at all.

You walk into the diner, shaking the thoughts from your head. Harry leads you to a booth near the back, one that’s placed right next to a window with a wonderful view.

Moments after you’re settled into your seat, a waiter comes up to you and takes your order. You notice that he’s paying special attention to you, and it makes you slightly uncomfortable, so you turn to Harry after reciting your order. “What do you want, baby?”

He gives you a questioning look but ultimately goes along with it, not even missing a beat. He gives his order to the waiter and waits until he walks away to turn back to you. “What was that about?”

“He was staring at me, looking me up and down, it made me really uncomfortable.” You say, looking down at your hands. “Thought if he believed we were together that he’d stop, which he didn’t.” You scoff at the audacity of the waiter. “Sorry if I ended up just making you uncomfortable too.”

He reaches over the table, taking your hands in his. “Hey, it’s alright. I wasn’t uncomfortable, just took me by surprise, is all.” He gives your hands a gentle squeeze. “If he comes back over and makes eyes at you, I’ll put him in his place, okay?”

You chuckle, nodding at him. Hopefully, the waiter would get caught up with other customers or would learn some manners so that he didn’t say anything, but either way, you knew you’d be okay.

“So, anyways, how can you be so bad at driving the yacht? It’s just a boat.” Harry asks, obviously trying to hold in a laugh.

“It’s really not that hard to be bad at it.” You defend. “I know plenty of people that can’t drive a boat.”

“Have they ever tried?” His eyebrows raise.

“No.” You mumble, flicking your eyes from his gaze.

“Well that explains that.” He pauses until you meet his gaze again. “No, but seriously, it’s way easier to drive than a car.”

You clear your throat. “I’m not that good at that either, H.” 

“Really?” He looks embarrassed, sorry to have pushed you, like he was worried that he had gone too far. 

You really didn’t mind, though, it’s not something you’re ashamed of, you just don’t really like driving. “Really. Ever noticed how I don’t drive anywhere?”

His eyes widen in realization. “Yeah, actually. If nobody else is available, I used to drive you places.” 

“Yeah, well, that’s because I suck at driving.” You say, looking down at your hands, which you realize are still being held by his. “I just feel more comfortable with other people driving me around.”

You feel him squeeze your hands again, the rings biting into your skin slightly. “I thought maybe you just didn’t have a car.”

Your head snaps up, eyes meeting his. You flash him a dirty look and go to pull your hands from his. Before you can, though, he squeezes tighter, making you stop for a moment.

“Not like that! It’s just that everything you do is in close proximity to your house.” Your hateful look subsides. You had seemed to forget for a moment that you weren’t enemies anymore. You were… friends? “There’s not really a need for you to have a car unless you were to drive somewhere far away, but usually that’s only for work and you fly.” He continues.

“Well, yeah, that’s true. But I do have a car, I just prefer not to drive it myself.” He nods his head, seeming to understand enough to let it slide.

You fall into a comfortable silence, his hands still clutching yours. You let your eyes scan over his face before wandering back to his seafoam green eyes. God, his eyes are beautiful. Everything about him is beautiful, honestly.

You’re broken out of your examination of him by the waiter coming back with your food and beverage choices. He sits Harry’s down first, and then places yours down. He doesn’t look at Harry again, just looking at you as he asks if there’s anything else that’s needed. You see his eyes trail downwards, and you give Harry’s hand a squeeze, causing him to clear his throat at the manager.

“Excuse me, sir?” This catches the waiter’s attention, making him turn back to Harry. “Could you maybe not eye fuck my girlfriend right in front of me?”

The waiter balks at him, and then tries to deny it. “I- I wasn’t!”

“Let’s not lie about it, you definitely were.” His voice is raspy and it makes your heart rate pick up. “And you were making her uncomfortable, so how about you explain to one of your coworkers why you need to switch them tables, yeah?”

The waiter just nods, walking away without so much as a glance back.

“Thank you, H.” He doesn’t reply, just squeezes your hands to let you know you’re alright. He lets go to eat, but you can see the way that his jaw is clenched.

“Hey, what’s up, you’re tense.” You try to meet his eyes, but he won’t look at you.

“I just don’t like the way he was looking at you.” He mumbles. 

You make the split second decision to walk over to his side of the booth and slide in next to him. He immediately makes room for you, lifting up his arm so you can crawl into his side.

“I’m alright, you know. I just don’t like being looked at like an object.” You whisper into his side.

“I know, love. I know you’re alright, you’re strong.” He squeezes you closer to him and you feel a smile come to your face. “And I don’t like it either. I’ll punch him next time he looks at you like that.”

You reach up and run your hand through his hair, smiling at him. He leans into your touch, and that’s when you realize just how close you are. He’s got you pulled into his side, one of your thighs is slung over his, and your faces are what seems to be only a few millimeters apart.

Every part of you wants to close the difference, to press your lips to his. Every fiber of your being wants to know what his lips feel like, wants to know how they taste. You don’t lean in, though, not wanting to ruin what the two of you have going on.

You look back down, pulling your food over to you and finishing your meal.

After the check is paid, he drives you home, the only sounds in the car being the radio and the tap of his fingers against the steering wheel. 

*

The next day flows by smoothly, everyone just chilling on the yacht and going for a swim.

When you get back to the house that night, though, Sam and Lexi come to your room to tell you that they’ll be leaving early, babbling on about some really good sale on jeans or something. They ask if you want to go with them but you politely decline, having absolutely no interest in jeans that, even when on sale, probably cost thousands of dollars.

They bid you a goodnight and let you know that they’ll be leaving early in the morning, most likely before you get up.

You wish them a safe trip and then roll over in bed, thinking about what this would mean. It would just be you and Harry for a few days. Would you spend a bunch of time together? Would you even talk that much? 

You don’t know how to spend that much alone time with Harry, mostly because you’ve only been close enough to spend any amount of time with him for a few days.

You’re anxious, probably more than you have been in a while. You can feel your hands sweating and your breath getting caught in your throat.

Suddenly, a knock comes at your door and you immediately yell, “Come in!”

You expect it to be Lexi or Sam, but it’s Harry.

“Hey, don't you mind if I hang with you?” He asks, fiddling with his fingers. “I’m kinda bored, plus the other night I saw that mini puzzle you brought so I was thinking maybe we could do that?”

You smile at his observational skills. “Yeah, it’s no problem. Come on, I’ll get the puzzle.”

You walk over to the carry on that you had packed and grabbed the puzzle. It’s only a hundred pieces, but each one is so small and oddly shaped that you had never been able to get the placement right. You had figured you’d try to do so on this trip, but you hadn’t seemed to have the time.

You trudge back over to the bed, sitting down a piece of cardboard that you had found in a storage closet when exploring the closet a few days prior, and spread out the pieces.

You immediately get to work, him doing the same. Every time he would reach to grab a piece, his rings clack together, and you can’t help but gaze at them. You love the way that the rings look on him.

He looks over at you, catching you staring at his hands. He chuckles, before hopping off the bed, seeming to remember something.

“I’ll be right back.” He promises, not waiting for your response before coming back with one hand behind his back.

“Hold out your hand.” He demands, and you do so, holding out your right hand. “No, no, palm side down.” You flip your hand over and then he slides a ring onto your right hand. 

After it’s placed on your hand, you look down, realizing that it’s a replica of his rose ring, but this one actually fits you, which means that he would have to have bought it specifically for you.

You can feel your chest tightening and your eyes begin to get a little blurry. His gesture is so cute and all you want to do is wrap him up in your arms.

“H, when did you even get this?” You say, gesturing to the ring.

“The other day after everyone went to bed, I drove to London and got it.” He says, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “I saw you looking at it the other day, figured I’d get one that would fit you so that we could match.”

“Thank you, H. That’s so sweet of you.” You wrap your arms around him, and without thinking, you crawl into his lap, straddling him. “How do you even think of things like this?”

He doesn’t say anything about the way that you're sitting, just wraps his arms around your back and pulls you impossibly closer.

“When I’m not pretending to hate people, I’m actually pretty smart.” he chuckles, and you can feel the vibration of the action throughout your body.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Styles.” You mumble into his neck. “You’re still an idiot.”

“Hey!” He whines, pushing you off of him only to tackle you into the mattress, tucking his head into the crook of your neck.

Subconsciously, you raise your hand up, digging into his hair and beginning to play with it. Neither of you say anything, just enjoying each other’s presence. After a while, you start to feel Harry getting heavier and heavier, his breathing getting more even. 

You try to stay in that position, loving the feeling of him wrapped up on you, but he’s a lot bigger than you and all the muscle he’s put on makes him a lot heavier than you can handle, the weight being too much on your chest and making you feel like you can’t breathe.

You roll him off of you, trying to be as gentle as possible so that you don’t wake him up, but you fail epicly. The second that you’ve got him completely off of you, he grabs your waist, pulling you over to lay on him like he was on you moments prior. Your legs are tucked between his, your face pressed into his neck. His warmth is radiating into your skin and his scent is swirling around you.

“Night, love.” He mumbles, angling his face down to kiss the top of your head.

“Night, H.” You murmur back, pulling the blanket over the two of you.

You focus on the way that his chest feels rising and falling underneath yours. You can feel his heartbeat, the way that it seems to be slightly faster than usual. You don’t think too much of it, though, he’s probably just hot.

Slowly, your thoughts begin to slow down, the prospect of a good night’s sleep pulling you further and further under until you’re dreaming about Harry.

*

When you wake up the next morning, you’re sweating. At first, you don’t think much of it, you were sandwiched between Harry and a wool blanket, after all. But then you realize that there’s something off with the way that Harry feels.

He’s radiating more heat than he normally does, which is already more than most people do.

You’re worried that he could be sick, so you scurry to the bathroom to find the thermometer that you saw when you first started staying in the house.

You make quick work of cleaning it off with an alcohol wipe, not wanting to risk him getting anything worse than he possibly already could have.

You shake him awake, ignoring his groans of protest, and make him put the thermometer under his tongue. You press the button and wait for it to beep, signifying that it’s done. 

You feel like you’re going to be sick when you look at the digital number that’s being presented to you. 102 degrees. That’s not ideal. 

“Hospital, H. Now.” You demand, not giving any room to argue on this. There’s no way that you’re going to let him lay in bed with a fever when you don’t even know what’s causing it. Maybe some people would, but you refuse. There are countless reasons why he could have this high of a fever, and each of them had different recommended treatments. You weren’t going to risk it and treat him for the wrong thing, only to make something worse.

He grumbles a “no” and you shake your head. Of course he would fight you on this.

“I’m not risking your life, H. Get the fuck up.” You wait for a moment, watching him shake his head no again. Once you know he won’t get up, you wrap your forearms underneath his arms and lift, dragging his lanky figure out of bed. 

Once he’s completely off the bed and standing next to you, you lift his arm, wrapping it around your shoulders so that you can support his weight. You grunt from the added stress on your shoulders.

You begin to make your way out to the car, making sure to stop on the way out the door to grab the keys from the hook and a water bottle from the fridge for him.

You unlock his car and all but shove him into the passenger seat, leaning across him and buckling his seatbelt for him.

Once that’s completed, you rush around the car and slip into the driver’s side, buckling your own seatbelt before inserting the key in the ignition and turning the car on.

“You hate driving, you can’t get me there.” He tries to argue, and you just laugh.

“You couldn’t drive even if you wanted to. Plus, I can get you there. I’ll be fine.” There’s no way that you were going to chicken out of this. Sure, you hated driving, but you hated the idea of something happening to him even more.

“No, y/n, it’s fine, if you don’t like driving you shouldn’t have to drive me.” The fact that he’s thinking of you right now, of all times, makes your heart rate quicken. How was he always so sweet? “I’ll be alright. I’ll just sweat it out.”

“No, Harry, you will not just sweat it out.” You say, rubbing a hand over your face. “You could die if it gets too much worse. There could be something seriously wrong. And you’re probably like this because you went out in the rain looking for me.” Sure, it’s been a few days, but that doesn’t mean that it wasn’t from that. The symptoms could have just not been showing up until now. “And trust me when I say that I am most definitely not letting you die.” You give him a look when he starts to protest again.

The drive to the hospital is shaky. There’s a few times where you think you’re going to freak out, but each time, Harry reaches his hand over and squeezes your knee in reassurance and you instantly feel your breathing even out again. 

Thankfully, you make it there safely. Throughout the trip he had drank the entire water bottle and he seemed to be more alert than he was when you woke him up. You still come over to his side of the car and help him hobble into the hospital, though, not wanting him to accidentally fall and break anything.

You sit him down in one of the chairs and walk to the counter to check him in. You come back with the paperwork that the lady handed you, and you’re surprised to know that you know the majority of the answers. You only have to pester him when you get to the section about his family’s medical history and when you need him to sign the paperwork.

You quickly go back to the counter to give her the pages back. She smiles and assures you that she’ll get everything entered and that the doctor will be right with him.

The doctor comes out and calls his name. He takes one glance in her direction and then grabs your hand. “Y/N, can you come back with me?” He gives you the best puppy dog eyes that he can manage.

You chuckle, agreeing immediately. How could you ever say no to that face?

Once you get to the room that the doctor led you too, she begins to ask a few questions. After answering them, she takes Harry’s temperature, the thermometer that she uses reading the same as the one at the house did. She decided to do a few tests, some of which nearly make Harry throw up, and then comes back with the results a little while later.

“It seems like he has the flu. Nothing too serious as of right now, though. I’ll give you a prescription to get filled for him since it doesn’t seem like he’ll be doing much for himself until his fever goes down, at least.

You smile, thanking her for letting you know, and gather Harry and the prescription paper. On the way back to the house, you drop off the prescription and wait for it to be filled. 

“Can I go in and get some candy?” He asks as you get out of the car to go pick up the medicine.

“No, H,” You see him pout at you, so you quickly continue, “but I can go in and get it for you.”

The smile that he gives you makes your world slow. All you want to do for the remainder of time is just make him smile and bask in the light that it gives off. But you can’t focus on that right now, you have to go in and get his candy and his medicine and then get him back home.

He tells you what he wants, whining about how it’s his absolute favorite candy. You go buy it for him, deciding to get a few of them so that he’ll have some for later, hopefully for when after he feels better. You also get him another water bottle, knowing that he’ll have to take his medicine once you get back to the car.

You quickly go to the counter, giving them his information and then walking back out to the car. 

After paying for everything, you rush back to the car and give him his medicine. After he’s taken it, he begins to munch on his candy as you drive the both of you back to the rental.

Once you reach the rental, the ride back goes much smoother than the one there, you take him back to your room and lay him on the bed.

“I can’t sleep in here.” You frown, wondering why he’s had the sudden change of heart. “You’ll get the flu too.”

You roll your eyes at him. “I’ve slept in the same bed as you already.” You sit on the bed next to him, reaching up and combing your hair through the sweaty tendrils. “I literally woke up on top of you, if I’m going to get it, I’ll get it whether you sleep in here tonight or not.”

He grumbles, but ultimately doesn’t put up that big of a fight, knowing that if he doesn, he’ll lose. 

“Do you wanna take a shower?” You mumble, still letting your digits card through his hair.

“Are you trying to tell me I stink?” He tries to laugh but it comes out more as a cough and you can’t help but want to wrap him up in your arms and take any and all of the pain that he could be feeling away.

“No, you actually smell really good for being sick, but you have a lot of dried sweat on you from your fever.” You smile down at him, seeing him give you a lazy, lopsided grin in return.

“Can I take a bath?” He asks, eyes lighting up at the prospect of being able to sit down but still get the sweat off of him.

“Yeah, that’ll work, bubs.” You don’t even think about the pet name until it slips out of your mouth. You want to take it back, scared that he’ll hate it.

All your worries, along with any trace of regret, washes away when you see his smile grow, the dimples popping deep into his cheeks.

“If I put bubbles in the water so that you can’t see anything, will you wash my hair?” He questions, and there’s no way that you’re going to say no to him. And you realize that it’s not just because he’s sick. It’s because it’s just so easy to give into him, to want to give him everything that he asks for, just about no matter what it is.

You’re not going to let him know just how easily that you want to agree with him, though, so you drag it out just a little longer. :You’re really milking this for all it’s worth aren’t you?”

“I mean, I guess. I don’t know.” He sighs, looking like he’s trying to find the right words. You stay quiet, waiting for him to find the ones that he’s searching for. “I just really like it when you play with my hair, and I’m assuming that it’ll feel even better if you were to wash my hair.” His cheeks flush crimson. “Just really like having your hands in my hair, I guess.”

You feel like you’re going to explode with the overflow of emotions that you’re currently experiencing, so you decide not to drag it out any more than you already have, knowing that you’ll regret it if you do. “Fine, yeah, H. I’ll wash your hair for you.”

The way that his eyes light up makes it all the more worth it. You’d do anything to see him have that look on his face more often. You used to see a lot more of that, before things started happening that scared him. You found yourself wishing, more often than not, that he had never had someone find his address, and that he had never had people hold him at knife point. He had been slightly less open after that, kind of like he didn’t trust that many people anymore. And, even though you hadn’t admitted it since you were pretending to hate everything about him, you had missed the way that his eyes would sparkle at the simplest things, and how he would be the first to jump at the idea of a night out.

“Thank you!” He lunges up from his spot on the bed to hug you, wrapping you in his arms and not letting go for a moment.

After letting him keep you in his embrace for what you deem is long enough, you push him towards the bathroom.

“Go get the bath ready, I’ll go get you some clothes.” You nudge him, but then realize something. Before you walk out, you take his hands in yours, sliding his rings off this nimble fingers one by one until they’re all in your palms. “I’ll take these to your room and put them up, alright?”

“Yeah, do you still have yours?” You nod, pointing to the rose ring on the dresser, sitting right next to his Cartier ring on the chain. He smiles, then waddles into the bathroom.

You make your way to his room and rifle through his suitcase, trying to find something that isn’t another pair of sweatpants or swimming trunks. You want him to be comfortable but not too hot, and you don’t know if he’d be comfortable in just boxers. 

You end up finding a pair of shorts at the very bottom. You grab those and some boxers, along with a hoodie of his for yourself, before heading back to your room.

You don’t hear the water running when you enter/ “Are you ready, H?” 

“Yeah, you’re good!” You slip on the hoodie before entering the bathroom. You place his clothes on the counter, out of the way from everything, and come sit on the floor next to the tub. 

The water and the bubbles come up to the bottom of his butterfly tattoo. You trace it with your eyes, and before you can even think about what in the world you’re doing, your hand is reaching out to trace it. You stop yourself halfway there and look up at him, your cheeks aflame.

“Go ahead.” He urges. “You can touch.”

You let your hand travel the distance to his abdomen. You begin to trace the lines of the butterfly. The wings, the patterns, the antenna. You can feel the muscles in his stomach clench as you venture towards the bottom of the wings, so you travel back upwards with your hand. 

After you finish tracing what seems to be every line in the tattoo, you look up at him, slowly moving your hand north, but stopping slightly above the butterfly. Once he gives his nod of approval, you move up to the swallows, loving how they look on him. 

Before you’re even done with those, he nods again, urging you to continue. So, you do just that, tracing the lettering on his body and moving down his arm to run over the ship, the rose, the hands. You trace everything that you can, ending at the little cross tattooed on his hand. 

“You missed a few.” He rasps, and you quirk your brow in confusion. The only ones that you know of that could have been missed are the ones submerged under the water. 

He doesn’t say anything, just lifts up his arm to show you the tattoos. You immediately reach back out, tracing over the bird cage and the masks, along with the lettering there. You can feel his body shiver at your touch, and you can’t help but mimic the action. The feeling of his skin under your own is electrifying.

“They’re all so beautiful, H.” You whisper, not completely trusting your voice yet.

“Thank you.” His voice isn’t much higher than yours.

You shake your head, trying to rid your head of the thoughts of him. You clear your throat and reach for the shampoo bottle. You pour a generous amount into your hand and begin to lather it into his hair, massaging his scalp with your fingers as you do so.

He lets out a sound that’s a mix between a pleased sigh and a moan and you almost choke on the air that you’re filling your lungs with.

“Feels so good.” He mumbles, letting his eyes slip shut. You can’t help but smile at him, the way that he looks so peaceful, so relaxed and utterly himself that all you can do is grin at him.

“Does it?” You inquire, knowing for a fact that it does, just wanting to keep the conversation going for a little longer. There’s something about the raspiness in his voice that makes you never want to stop hearing it.

“Yeah, feels better than just about anything else I’ve ever experienced.” This time, he lets out a groan that’s so close to a growl that you have to take a moment to breathe.

“I’m glad.” You all but squeak.

After you rinse his hair out and begin to apply the conditioner to his hair, he looks up at you. “Hey, mind if I tell you something?”

“Yeah, go ahead, bubs. You can tell me anything.”

He seems to mull it over in his head for a moment and then speaks up again. “Promise not to get weird or anything?”

You’re beginning to get slightly worried. Part of you is scared that he’s going to tell you that he killed someone and now he needs help hiding the body or something extreme like that. Although, if he asked, you definitely would help him, that’s just the kind of friend that you are. “Yeah, I promise.”

He looks up at you through his lashes, making sure that he’s holding eye contact with you. “I kinda, um, like you.”

You smile, he’s so dramatic for no reason. “I kinda like you, too. You’re not as awful as I thought you were.”

“Thank you, but that’s not really what I meant by that.” He has a slight grimace on his face, like he’s scared that what comes out of his mouth next will hurt him in some way.

“What did you mean then?” He still seems hesitant, scared even. “You can tell me, bubs. I don’t bite.”

He takes a deep breath, settling himself. “I meant, I have feelings. For you.” You feel like your heart stops. All the breath is sucked from your lungs. Harry Styles? Likes you? “I don’t know for sure when they turned from ‘oh, she’s pretty and seems sweet’ to ‘I Wish that she didn’t hate me so maybe I’d have a chance’, but they did.” You feel him reach out and take your hand in yours, and all the emotions running through your body threaten to spill out. “And, trust me, I know that I treated you like shit and I don’t deserve you or your love but I just had to tell you.”

“Are you telling me that Harry Styles has a crush on me?” You ask, slightly chuckling.

“If that’s what you wanna call it, yeah.” He says, cheeks getting more and more red by the second.

You shake your head, not wanting to get too excited. He had a fever. Fevers can cause confusion and can make people think things that they don’t mean. “You don’t mean that. You have a fever, you'll feel different when you wake up in the morning.”

His face falls, and you immediately want to take back what you said. “I promise you that I won’t.”

“How do you know that?” You don’t think you could just forget the words that he’s saying to you.

“Because I didn’t just start feeling this way.” Relief surges through your body, and you can feel the tears start to prick at your eyes.

“Really?” You really won’t be able to handle it if this is all a side effect of the fever.

“Really.” He assures, brushing his thumb in soothing circles on your hand.

“Well, lucky for you, I happen to understand why you acted like you did and I think that you deserve me. I’m the one that doesn’t deserve you.” You had never thought that Harry would like you as any more than a friend, even before you actually met. All your friends had told you that you guys would be great together, you just had to meet him. You always had your doubts, though.

He scoffs, “Yeah, alright, we can pretend that’s true. You’re literally perfect.”

Your heart expands at his words, how does he always seem to know exactly what to say? “So are you, H. I’ve seen it for a long time, just didn’t wanna be the girl that loved you even though you hated me.”

HIs eyes widen and a smile covers his face. “You love me?”

“I’m getting there.” You admit.

“Come here.” He gestures for you to get closer.

You scramble towards him, getting as close as possible without physically climbing into the tub.

He leans in, closing the gap between the two of you, letting his lips ghost over yours for a moment before you pull back.

“Let’s rinse out your hair and then finish up and I’ll kiss you for real, alright?” There’s no way that you’ll be able to kiss him the way that you want to while he’s still sitting in the bathtub.

He nods and lets you continue. You rinse the conditioner out of his hair, then get up to leave the bathroom so that he can get dressed. Before you can walk away though, he grabs your hand and pulls you back. He makes a kissy face and you lean down to peck his lips, knowing that he’ll just pout until you give in.

Moments after you exit the bathroom, he walks out looking completely perfect. You can see the tiger tattoo on his thigh, and you make the mental note to kiss over it later.

“Kissy?” He asks, coming towards you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You sling your arms around his neck, slotting your hands into your hair. You nod, leaning in to kiss him, for real this time.

He wastes no time in kissing you back, this one holding a lot more passion than you ever thought a kiss could hold.

Your lips are molding with his, fitting together like they’re the missing piece that you needed to complete your puzzle.

His tongue slides over your bottom lip, asking permission, which you gladly give, opening your mouth and letting his tongue explore.

You pull away after a moment to catch your breath. Looking up at him, you see everything that you had been missing. “Promise me this doesn’t change when we go back to our real lives.”

He brings his hand up, cupping your cheek. You lean into your touch. “I promise you that, as long as you’ll have me,” he kisses your forehead,  “I’ll always be right here to tell you that you’re beautiful,” your temples, “that you’re all I can think about.” your cheeks. “And, as long as you’ll let me, I’ll kiss you over and over again.” He finally lets his lips glide over yours again.

After he pulls away, you breathe, “Good, because I don;t think I’d be able to go back to normal after that.”

“Neither could I.” He assures you. “Come on, love, let’s go lay down.”

With that, you crawl into bed next to Harry, cuddling into his side. After a moment, he decides you're not close enough, pulling you in until your head is on his chest and your leg is thrown over his thighs. 

You smile in content as he kisses your forehead. Who would have thought that you’d be in this place, with him? Never in a million years could you have dreamed this up for yourself. And honestly, if someone had told you a mere weeks ago that you would be kissing Harry and falling asleep next to him, you would have laughed in their face, probably even asked them if they had gone mental.

But now, here you were, laying cuddled up with the man that makes your entire world seem to light up, and you couldn’t be happier. It had been a rocky road getting here, but you would go through that day on the yacht a million times as long as you ended up back here, held tightly in his arms.

Listening to the beat of his heart, to the way that his breaths are evening out die to the comfort that having you near him brings, you drift off to sleep

*

You’re being shaken awake much too earlier, and you turn to gripe at whoever chose to wake you up. But then you realize that it’s Harry, and your face immediately softens.

“Hey, you.” He says, pecking your nose.

“Hey, why are we up so early?” You grumble.

He chuckles. “We’ve got a plane to catch.” You audibly groan, probably a lot more dramatic than it has to be. “Come on, it’s time to get out stuff together. Gotta go back to the real world.”

You sigh, not wanting to go, but you know that you have to, so you stumble out of bed and get all your stuff together. 

You scramble to ensure that everything’s ready, even making sure that you clasp your new necklace on your neck and slide the new ring on your finger.

Once you zip up your bag and stand up, wracking your brain to make sure that everything is in order, Harry comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you. You immediately lean into his embrace.

“You look really fucking cute in my clothes.” He mumbles, pressing his face into your hair.

“Why thank you, never got your tour hoodie, thought I’d see how it looked.” You smirk, knowing that you had, in fact, received a tour hoodie, you just hadn’t worn it yet.

He says nothing about that, though, just groaning, “It looks fantastic.” before pushing away from your body.

“Are you ready?” He asks, looking over all the packed bags, and then over to you. HIs eyes stop at the ring around your neck, heart swelling in pride that you’re wearing his ring.

“Yeah, don’t wanna go, but I know I have to. I’ve gotta go back to work.” You groan.

“I meant what I said last night, you know?” He blurts, and you can’t help but feel relieved. He had been acting like he meant it, but the verbal confirmation made you feel even better.

“Which part?” You say, playing coy.

“All of it.” He promises. “Every single word.”

You hum in content, walking back into his arms and pressing into his chest. “I mean what I said too.”

You pull away after a moment, walking to pack your stuff into the car.

After dropping off the rental car and going through the motions of getting ready and boarding the plane, you finally sit down, right next to Harry. This time, though, you aren’t dreading the plane ride.

*

After the plane lands, Harry throws you his keys, telling you that Sam and Lexi were supposed to have dropped the car off with his extra set an hour prior. He assures you that he’ll get your luggage.

“I can tell you’re tired, sweets, go on to the car, okay?” You nod in agreement before heading out to the parking lot to find his car.

On the ride back to your apartment, you doze off in the passenger seat, his hand on your knee and fingers tracing random patterns lulling you to sleep.

He wakes you up by kissing all over your face, and you must admit that it’s probably the best way for someone to wake you up. Well, not just anyone, just him.

He gets your bags from the trunk, walking you to the door. As you’re about to go inside, he kisses your cheek, letting his mouth linger there for a moment. “Can I come over later? Gotta put up my stuff and check the mail, but I wanna see you again.”

You smile. You’d like to see him again, too. “Yeah, sure. Just come over whenever.” 

He leans down and gives you a quick peck on the corner of your mouth before heading home.

In the time that you’re alone, you put everything away that you ended up not wearing and throw the dirty clothes in the wash.

As you’re fixing yourself dinner (which is arguably enough for two, but that’s just a coincidence...maybe), you hear a knock on your door. 

You rush over, checking through the hole to make sure that it’s Harry. When you open the door, he immediately sweeps you up into a hug. “God, I missed you.”

“You were gone for less that three hours, H.” You breathe.

“I know, but I still missed you.” He pulls back from you slightly, still keeping his arms wrapped around your waist. “Am I not allowed to miss my girl?”

Your heart skips a beat. “Your girl?”

“Um, fuck, I- you don’t have to- don’t feel pressured.” You cut him off by placing your lips on his.

“Calm down, H.” You urge.

“It’s just, I don’t know, do you want to be my girlfriend?” He asks, eyes looking down between the two of you at his shoes. 

“God, yes.” You clear your throat, realizing how desperate you probably sounded. “I mean, yeah. But I’m not gonna be able to be like all your other girlfriends were.”

“What do you mean by that?” He wonders.

“I can’t just drop everything and come with you while you’re on tour.” You give him an apologetic look. You know how much he loves having his girl with him while he’s performing. “I can’t go on excessive vacations with you, and by excessive I mean for months at a time. I don’t get paid to stand around and look pretty like the rest of them did.”

“I don’t want you to be like the rest of them were. I want you to be you.” He says, stroking your cheek with his hand. “Plus, I mean, you could technically come on tour with me as part of my crew if you wanted.” He suggests. “Be one of the photographers, or help me get everything ready. That could be your new job if you were interested.”

“Harry, I couldn’t ask you to do that.” You argue. “That’s just another person that’ll have to be paid. I didn’t do anything to get those positions anyway.” You know that all of the people on his crew were exceptionally talented, and that just wasn’t you.

“You let me see how wonderful you are at photography, that’s what you did.” You’re surprised that he remembers that. You had only shown him your work once. And it was the only time when the two of you were enemies that he didn’t have anything rude to say.

“H…” You’re still not sure about the idea. Of course, it would be fun, but you really have no business being there.

“Please? I don’t think I can go months on end without seeing you.” He whines. “I could barely go three hours.”

“Fine.” You give in. “But only if I get to stand in the audience and watch the show at least a couple times.” You had always wanted to see one of his shows from the audience, to see how well he interacted with everyone.

“Deal.” He says without hesitation.

“Alright, fine. I’ll go.” You concede. He does a mini celebration, shimmying his body slightly.

“You wanna go tell our friends after dinner, baby?” You suggest.

“Baby? I like it.” He says, blushing because of the pet name.

“I mean, you are my boyfriend now.” You reason, but also just liking the way that it sounds coming out of your mouth.

“That’s true, love. And yeah, let’s go tell our friends after dinner.” He leads you to the kitchen, fixing the both of you a plate and sitting down with you to eat.

*

After you clean up from dinner, you head out to the bar that your friends told you to meet them at.

You walk into the bar hand in hand with Harry. He sits in the booth first, dragging you in after him. 

“Do you wanna tell them?” You lean in and whisper into Harry’s ear.

He just nods, turning to Lexi and Sam. “Um, guys, we’re kinda, um, dating.” 

“Okay.” Sam says. Lexi nods, looking completely unfazed.

“What?” How are they being so calm about this?

“We figured it would happen. The chemistry between the two of you is impeccable. You had more passion towards each other when being dickheads than either of you have for anything else. It was just a matter of time.” Lexi explains, as if it’s completely obvious.

How they knew it was going to happen, you have no clue. You couldn’t even see yourself ending up with him. But maybe it was because you didn’t have the outside perspective. 

*

A few months later, you’re on a tour bus to the first venue, and you can already feel the adrenaline running through your veins. 

The very first show, you watch from the audience, taking in the scene. Seeing how his fans react, how he works the audience.It was good to study the subject before photographing them. 

Also, though, getting to watch your man live his dream is pretty exhilarating. And getting to go along for the ride with him is even better.

*

Thank you for reading!! You can come discuss with me here!!

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[imkylotrash]

Peculiar World

Pairing: Saul Silva x reader

Request: Can you do a Saul x wife reader who has magic. She was raised by Damon and was maybe a teen in season 1 of TVD so she was involved with all the crazy. She's also bffs with Klaus and Hopes godmother. She's is a teacher at alfea and the SBS. She is also a mentor to Riven like Saul/Sky.I kinda want to see Saul reaction to all of this as he knows about TVD but never met them. Anonymous

A/N I'm a little limited in my knowledge of Legacies so I've had to leave a little of the request out but I hope you like it anyway! 💛

Tagging: @grey-girl @intoanothermind @anreeixcobra @kingunder221b @lflores2008 @alexiapayne12 @quuenofblacks @quarterback-5 @estelmei @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody @artsyle​ @baueoud @glowingatdawn @shadowhuntyi

"This is going to be an amazing place, you know." You're standing in the doorway of the newly funded Salvatore Boarding Scool remembering all the memories it holds. Alaric turns around with a smile crossing the room to hug you tightly.

"I thought we agreed you wouldn't become a stranger when you moved." You can't help but chuckle. It's not exactly like you just moved a state over.

"I moved to another realm, Ric. It's a little harder than an hour's drive." A couple of students hurry outside laughing. It takes you back to your own high school days though you didn't have a place where you could practise magic openly and safely. You'd lost count of the number of times you'd had to use your magic to save everyone alongside Bonnie, how many times you'd grieved the loss of a loved one and the joy you felt when they made their way back to life.

"I thought I heard my favourite witch." Damon comes walking down the stairs and you must admit that humanity looks good on him. The biggest surprise is Elena not being next to him. When you left, they were quite literally joined by the hip.

"Don't let Bonnie catch you saying that," you chuckle but you're really just happy to see him. He took you in when your parents died and since then the Salvatore mansion had been your home. Back then you'd been his only redemption before he actually started being a good person. Elena had brought it out in him but you like to think you were the beginning of the development. He'd saved your life more than once.

"Don't worry. I tell her the same thing when you're not here." He ruffles up your hair making you feel like a little kid all over again. But this time you're a married adult with your own life and Damon knows that too.

"You look good," he says pulling you in for a hug.

"You too. Apparently, married life suits us both." You know Damon has been torn between wanting to hate Saul for stealing you away and appreciating the fact that he makes you very happy.

"Who would've thought?"

You return to the present realising that you've been standing under the running water long enough for it to turn cold. You use a little magic to quickly dry off your hair so you can be on time for class. You still have no idea how Saul managed to get you a job at Alfea when you're not even a fairy but it makes your marriage a lot easier. Neither of you likes being away from each other but working at Alfea has kept you from your family a lot. You love Saul but you miss Mystic Falls. It clouds your thoughts all through class and by the time you've finished, you're calling Damon to hear how everything is going.

"Hey," you say trying to keep your voice neutral.

"Hi stranger," he replies but you can tell he's busy judging by the sound of chatter in the background. That's when you remember it's family dinner night.

"I completely forgot. We'll talk later." You hang up before he has any time to respond. Your eyes sting but you refuse to cry. It's just tough being away from them all the time. You have more than enough here with Saul and Riven but you miss home.

"I know I'm not a mind fairy but the look on your face says more than enough. What's wrong?" Saul asks. He's just entered your shared bedroom and he looks ready to collapse after a long day.

"It's nothing. I just miss home." You wonder how big the twins have gotten by now and how Hope is doing. You hate to admit that as her godmother you haven't done a pretty good job at being there for her. You text constantly but it's not the same as seeing her. You had promised Klaus to take care of her before he sacrificed himself and then you moved to another realm.

"We could always go visit?" You lock eyes with him never having been more in love with him than right now. Saul has never visited Mystic Falls. Frankly, you'd been terrified to merge those two worlds but now you felt like you had to. You wanted him to know the people who had helped save you and been there as you grew into your own person.

"I'd love that."

==

"This looks pretty impressive." Saul is standing next to you by the gates of the Salvatore Boarding School looking in awe at the place. You know Alfea is a gorgeous place but it has nothing on the Salvatore mansion.

"Walk me through it again. Vampires, werewolves and witches all in one place?"

"Also, hybrids and tribrids which still doesn't really make sense to me but essentially that's the big three, yeah." You laugh a little as you watch the confusion cloud his face. You grew up here and you still struggled to understand all the stuff that happened.

"We're not staying here for long. Damon invited us over for dinner but I just wanted to stop by here." You keep a lookout for any familiar faces and much to your surprise you spot Hope locking lips with some curly-haired boy.

"Hope?" you exclaim. She is definitely not old enough to be dating and the sight makes you temporarily forget about Saul who's currently fighting the urge to draw out the dagger he always hides in his boot. The soldier in him is terrified of vampires and werewolves thinking of the horror stories he always heard as a child despite your reassurances that they were people the same as the fairies.

"Y/N?" Hope runs right into your arms not believing her own eyes.

"What are you doing here?" she asks excitedly. Seeing her makes you realise just how much you've missed this place. You introduce her to Saul who's trying to take everything in and relax a little. You don't blame him. Hearing about vampires and werewolves is very different from actually being around them. Some vampires still give you the creeps even now.

"Thank you for coming," you whisper as Hope leads the way to Alaric's office. She's talking so much she doesn't even notice you saying anything. It's nice seeing her so happy and confident in herself compared to seeing her back in New Orleans. This school had really helped her.

"Here we are," she says stopping in front of a set of doors with Ric's name on it.

"We're staying for a few days. How about you ditch school tomorrow and tell me all about that lover boy I caught you with outside." Hope is quick to agree before heading back outside. It's nice seeing her happy. You know Klaus would've enjoyed it too.

"You ready?" He nods his head and you open the door to see Ric and the twins. It's a happy reunion adding to the feeling of missing out on everything.

"If you miss it so much, I've got a job opening? You could come to teach every other week to make your schedule work." Could it work? Could you have the best of both worlds? You look over at Saul who looks just as surprised as you. It would take some work and planning but you needed this.

"Do you think we could make it work?" you ask Saul hoping he'll say yes. Hoping he'll support you.

"I think you gave up a lot for me by moving to Alfea so it would only be fair that we made this work. Of course, we can make it work." He's still freaked out by the number of supernatural people running around here but he has to admit that it's pretty impressive they all manage to co-exist. He's eager to learn more about them and the history behind their existence. It's also a huge plus that he gets to see you happy.

"I guess my answer is yes then."

[jostepherjoestar]

Drawing inspiration to this request —> [Hi dear 🖤 La Squadra's reaction to their fem reader's rough and low voice. She is a La Squadra member] May I please request what would La Squadra's reaction be to a member that never speaks who finally speaks for the first time and she has the sweetest and cutest voice ever despite looking very intimidating and cold? Turns out, she's a total shy sweetheart that just looks cold and intimidating since she's part of la squadra

Quiet and intimidating La Squadra member who actually has the cutest voice (fem reader)

Before we start, I’ve reached 100 followers!!! Thank you all so much, I wanna squish all of ur lovely faces!!! Now onto the fun stuff! Made these a bit longer in celebration :))) they’re more like little scenarios

Risotto

Risotto liked the fact that you were more quiet than the rest of his team. It’s not that he hates the noise, it’s just a nice change to have someone who rarely even speaks... now that he thinks of it you’ve actually never spoken around them. He liked that the two of you had the same aura surrounding you, intimidating and perhaps a bit cold.

He’d grown curious to what your voice may sound like, his ears like that of an alert cat whenever he heard an unfamiliar voice around him. Always disappointed to see that it wasn’t you.

What he didn’t know is that you were just horribly shy and never thought you had anything useful to add to the wild conversations. (your own thoughts were wrong ofc)

When you finally spoke for the first time it was to ask about details of a mission, Risotto and you were going on a mission together, alone, for the first time and he hadn’t provided that much details. Which unbeknownst to you was his plan all along. He can be a sly bastard.

You quietly asked him what the plan was after you got his attention when stepping into his office. He couldn’t believe his own ears when he heard the sweetest little voice coming from you. Of course he asked you to repeat yourself and when you did, louder than before, he had to try his hardest to cover up the massive smile growing on his lips.

On the mission itself, you talked more and more to him, warming up to conversation. Risotto felt his heart skip a beat every time you did. He never knew how much he’d appreciate such a cute one like you. 

Formaggio

Formaggio had been trying his hardest to make you talk or even produce any sound at all. Telling joke after joke, calling your name out in the middle of a different conversation so you’d perhaps even just say “Yes, what?”. He’d even tried scaring you, using his stand to shrink himself and hiding behind the coffee machine.

Of course his prank didn’t work, you almost threw him in the trash with an unamused look. But whenever Formaggio truly did his best you walked away from him with a cold look. When you were in a different room you’d silently laugh or let out a big sigh, if only he knew how shy you were and that you’d love to talk to him, but it was yourself stopping you from it.

He liked you, he knew that, you knew that. But when it came to your opinion on him, he actually wasn’t so sure and it gnawed at him. He’d grown a bit insecure, to calm his own thoughts he decided he’d ask you tonight.

He came into your room with a quiet knock while he opened the door, seeing you at your little desk reading a book. Greeting you, he sounded a bit off which worried you, you doing your best to stay stoic. “Do you like me? You know, as a person? Cause I get the feeling you don’t.” the question visibly surprised you. You put down the book and walked over to him, he wasn’t sure what you were planning by the sweat starting to form on his forehead. “Of course I like you Formaggio.” you said in earnest, holding the side of his arm.

That’s it, the man is now a mere puddle on the floor. Your soft, sweet voice mixed with the utter shock has made him melt. He excused himself with a smile and ran out of your room yelling in the hallway that you liked him. He wanted all of Italy to know.

Illuso

Illuso had been intrigued by your cold and quiet nature. Every chance he got he studied your behaviour, trying to figure you out. He didn’t really find out much, only being able to study your habits. In his mirror world he tried his best to observe you, trying to even include a few new extra mirrors in your room.

But after finding weird new mirrors you’d grown suspicious of him and threw them all out. Your room would be a mirror free zone to Illuso’s chagrin. You didn’t dislike him, it was just that his sneaking and investigating bothered you. At least the others made an attempt to talk to you.

He grew tired of waiting, frustrated even that you never talked and he was having a hard time figuring you out. He was good assassin, confident in his own skills. He had to think outside of the box to get you to talk or just catch you doing it.

After much thought he decided on a plan. No plan. He accepted that everything he would concoct would just push you away, a top notch assassin like you knew when they were being played with.

When you woke up today, you felt light and the soft sunshine made you feel positively energised. Everything around you was quiet, no conversations downstairs, no clattering in the kitchen, no showers running. You hummed along to a song while brushing your hair in the bathroom, for a moment feeling completely at ease.

The door was open, not having bothered to close it since no one seemed to be home. But Illuso was. He stood in the doorway, a smile on his face, it finally worked. The soft melodic hums putting him on fluffy pink clouds, wanting the cute voice to soothe him to sleep tonight. Content with what he’d heard, he silently walked away. You knew he was there and honestly relieved that he didn’t approached you, you’d have turned bright red  from embarrassment if he did.

Prosciutto

Prosciutto sighed after realising he’d have another Risotto to look out for. Don’t get him wrong he had great respect and love towards his capo and good friend, but he worried about him. Perhaps too much. So he did what he did to Risotto before. Give you space.

He know’s that pushing you or forcing you to talk would only have the opposite effect. The silent communication you had of nods was enough for now.

The way you were around him made him softer, to his own surprise and chagrin. Of course he cared for his teammates and capo, but don’t let them know all the time and so openly. They’ll get cocky.

It comforted you knowing the space he was giving you, thankful that he hadn’t pushed you. In the beginning you were a little intimidated by him, his stern looks really chilled you to the bone. But his deep voice and (weirdly aggressive) pep talks showed you his more approachable side.

You had tried multiple times to talk to him, you’d built up your courage and were so close to opening your mouth to talk when someone always came and interrupted. Sometimes you even felt a little relieved when they did.

On a quiet afternoon Prosciutto invited you to the empty sitting room, small espresso cups in hand. You felt a little nervous since it was just the two of you, hand shaking a little as you grabbed your cup. The shaking causing you to spill coffee on your knee, the hot liquid burning a red spot on the exposed skin of your leg. You sighed out a ‘Merda!’ as you patted you leg dry.

A sly smile growing on Prosciutto’s face, finally your little facade had cracked a little. You could hear him chuckle in front of you. “Who knew such a sweet voice could produce such nasty words.”

Pesci

This man was quite intimidated by you and your cold exterior. It made you laugh in private since you were shy and sweet just like Pesci. Because you could see your reflection in him, you hung out around him a lot. Just silently watching tv together, sitting next to him at meetings, cooly handing him your leftovers at dinner when he still had room left for more.

It made Pesci blush, your sweet gestures not matching the cold expressions. But on the inside you felt so comfortable and perhaps a bit jealous that Pesci wasn’t as shy as you and expressed himself so honestly.

But the cold expression and the limited eye contact during you friendly offerings were not because you didn’t like him, it was because if your eyes met you’d also be blushing at the sweet man in front of you.

Still, after all your silent offerings he was not assured to approach you by himself. He was cautious and also didn’t want to push you out of your comfort if you didn’t feel like talking. He’d create awkward silences that didn’t even need to be uncomfortable, he just couldn’t help himself.

Whenever there was time, between the jobs that offered enough physical training, you’d all train together. On one of these days, everyone was working hard, sparring, lifting and running to built up stamina. You were done with your exercises, muscles tired, body sweaty but feeling the rush of the after workout bliss. Pesci was on his last set of arm lifts when you walked over.

His arms were shaking and it looked like he was on his last straw. The bar resting on his chest as he took deep breaths. You stood behind him, signalling you’d spot him for safety. His strong arms shaking under the weights, struggling to do the last lift. “Come on Pesci, I know you can do it.” Your sweet encouragement was loud enough for him to hear but not so loud that the others noticed.

With one last grunt he pushed up the weights, an excited sound ringing out loudly as he puts the weights back on the rests. His face seemed red from the strain but the goofy smile betrayed him, it was you that did that to him.

Melone

Oh little melon man figured you out so fast. He was of course polite and friendly to you, always the gentleman (you’d be surprised at how nice and considerate he could be) but behind all this he was waiting patiently.

He knew as soon as he noticed your cold facade and silent nature that you were hiding a sweetness behind it. But he was excruciatingly patient, to a degree that he didn’t even care anymore about hearing your voice or seeing you smile for once. Just the excitement of waiting for you to crack is what invigorated him.  

His behaviour worried you, you’d known from seeing him interact with the others what he was like and it was blatantly obvious that he treated you different. He left you alone, didn’t push of prod, didn’t joke around to extract a reaction.

You were already shy but the way he was acting made you even more nervous. Maybe perhaps a little angry since you knew the game he was playing and you felt yourself losing. The way he acted actually making you want to talk to him, wanting him to give you the attention he gave to others so teasingly.

You decided you were going to play along, while also working against him. At least trying to reverse the effect of his game. You’d dress a little more provocatively, bending and pushing your best assets forwards whenever he was near, knowing that was an easy way to get his attention.

You weren’t even sure you wanted him in that way, pining over your body. But you had to play dirty if that’s the way he did things. But nothing worked, every attempt failed. He didn’t budge, his sly smiles only lasting longer, he knew he was winning.

Melone was sitting comfortably on his legs on the couch, he looked lost in thought when you approached. You made sure no one was around. Defeated and not even sure why you were even going to reward him. “You win, Melone.” You plopped down next to him with a deep sigh. Your sweet voice like heavenly harps at the gates of heaven to Melone’s ears. “Well played, kitten. You almost got me, maybe if you kept going you’d have actually won.” he purred while winking. Oh you could kill him right now...maybe you will. Just a little.

Ghiaccio

Ghiaccio didn’t mind your quietness at all. But he made you nervous and, afraid to set him off if you did something wrong or looked at him the wrong way. He’d notice your shoulders tense up every time he yelled, he wasn’t yelling at you though, probably at Melone.

It got him a little fired up that he made you tense, perhaps more at himself since never actually wants to be mad, it just happens. He’s been avoiding you for a while now.

You’d noticed him acting cold to you and avoiding even the slightest contact between each other. It made you wonder if it was your fault. If only there was a way to help this problem out of the way. Oh wait there is, it’s called communication. But you just couldn’t do it, not yet.

Both too stubborn or scared of talking to each other, it continued. Your teammates also noticing the air in the room get colder once Ghiaccio and you entered. Risotto and Prosciutto weren’t really sure what to do, no idea what the actual problem was, and you weren’t talking. Ghiaccio wasn’t either.

The idea sprung to Prosciutto to get you in the same room together and not let you out until you’d talked about it. And as dumb as it sounds, his plan proceeded, Ghiaccio was already in Risotto’s office, the capo also part of the plan. Luring you in was easy enough, since you didn’t know that Ghiaccio was in there already.

By god they ‘Parent Trapped’ you. You sat in the chair next to Ghiaccio who had slowly begun calming down. His tirade of insults at the closed door had already come and gone. It felt like an hour had passed, it actually did, before he began talking. “Why do you get so tense around me? I know I get angry but it’s rightfully so. There’s just so many stupid people. I’d never actually hurt you or the others. Not that much...” he sighed, finally saying what’s been on his mind.

“You’ve talked to everyone but me. Am I that horrible?” he sounded so sad when he talked, almost a whisper. You couldn’t handle your own silence anymore. “You’re not horrible, I- I just don’t know how to-.” you couldn’t string the right words together but Ghiaccio understood. Your sweet voice softening the emotions. The two of you actually hugged it out, but you’d never let Risotto or Prosciutto get the satisfaction of knowing that.

[shoichee]

Hello and congrats on the 100 milestone! Can you do prompt #19 for Midorima? 😁

MAN OH MAN IT’S BEEN A LONG TIME BUT I’M FINALLY BACK, TSYM for being here since the beginning, i rlly rlly appreciate it <333 so HERES SOME FLUFF

Midorima x Reader

19. “I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me”

Word Count: 3349

prompt list here

»»—————　☼　—————««

“Seriously, are you sure you’re not secretly related to Shin-chan?” Takao shoves another helping of rice into his mouth and you instantly frown at his messy eating habits.

“Takao, it doesn’t hurt to wipe the grains off your cheeks with napkins that the cafeteria always abundantly provides,” you say, not once taking your eyes off of the study guide you compiled for the class final. “And please don’t talk with your mouth open.” You can easily sense Takao groaning before slapping his eyes while leaning back in frustration, but you still carried on in skimming your notes instead.

“And that’s exactly why Shin-chan doesn’t know how to approach you,” he petulantly mumbles. You spared a glance above your packets, not catching his inaudible words.

“Pardon?”

“Never mind,” Takao sighs, settling to childishly stabbing the shrimp tempuras with his chopsticks and popping them into his mouth. “You werdn’t gert it.”

“What did I just say about your eating manners?” You roll your eyes, choosing to brush off his words as you continue to devote your attention to your papers. Takao simply opts to noisily munch on the rest of his lunch while being deep in thought, letting you study in some relative peace. He then gets up, tosses his trash away, and plops back down on his seat, and he props up his chin on his arm, watching you completely engrossed in your own world and figuring out how to exactly figure out his next best course of action.

“Y’know what? Screw this, I’m not getting paid to be a wingman for two difficult people,” he dramatically sighs, purposely trying to get your attention, and it worked. “You might wanna start paying attention to poor Shin-chan before he over thinks himself to death.” Takao does an exaggerated shrug and a shake of his head to emphasize the “seriousness” of the situation. You merely frown.

“You never cease to amaze me with your convoluted words. If you want something from me, just spit it out already.” You reluctantly let down your papers to give him your undivided attention, and Takao leans closer, dropping his voice to a hush.

“Look, I know you see him in a different light from the others,” he whispers conspiringly. “And he does too.” He makes pointer-finger motions in front of him to represent “you” and “Midorima.”

“... This again?” You pinch your nose bridge and release a harsh sigh, but you nonetheless let Takao continue.

“Come on, would it really hurt to do a confession? For someone so blunt and straightforward, you’re really dragging this out for way too long.” Takao frowns at your deadpan expression but continues his little movements with his makeshift “finger puppets.” “Once you”—he takes his left index finger—“and Shin-chan”—he brings his right index closer to his left—“do the chu”— he brings his index fingers together to imply the situation—“I can finally be free from the clutches of Shi—”

“I already told you,” you smoothly interrupt, “that we don’t see each other that way. He’s been a reliable partner in class projects and a very helpful person to share notes with. I’m very certain it’s like that on his end with me too.”

“Why do you sound so disappointed when you say it like that?” Takao slowly grows a shit-eating (yet hopeful) smirk. You scowl at his implications. Takao amusedly notes that you’re way too similar to his best friend.

“There’s no chance that we’ll ever get to that stage… ever. Okay? Satisfied now?”

“So you are disappointed at the possible outcome,” Takao gleefully says, his face showing all signs of plans being concocted in his mind. You completely widen your eyes at your simple slip-up.

“I… it’s not a possible outcome, damn it,” you vehemently insist. “It’s a guarantee.”

“Puh-lease (y/n)-chan, how do you know unless you try it?”

“Alright Takao,” you dryly reply. “Why don’t you try staring directly at the sun first before confirming that you become blind from that?”

“That’s not the same!”

“Same logic,” you huff. “Look, you know Midorima-san more than anyone, and even you know how he thinks. He finds the concept of friends and teammates to be pretty unnecessary, and frankly I can empathize with him. If he finds camaraderie to be a hassle already, dating is already beyond off the table. It takes much more to be a genuine friend to him than your average person, and if I do, by chance, confess, I’d be throwing away everything that I built up with him like an idiot… just being like this with him is more than enough for me. Besides, a relationship isn’t important right now, not when class takes up most of the time.”

“Well, normally yes, but in this specific case, there’s an excep—”

“I already came clean with this,” you say, furrowing your brows. “So can you finally let me study for this class in peace? Obviously, it’s a given for you not to open your mouth to anyone else about this.” With that, you tune out any further noise and burrow yourself into your class materials, and Takao could only sigh as he tries to wrack his brain for another way to play wingman.

“... Seriously, they’re both so stubborn.”

———

“(y/n)-san.”

“Hm?”

You turn around from looking at the bulletin to the person who just addressed you. Midorima stares down at you quite seriously before he promptly clears his throat.

“You’re blocking the way, nanodayo.”

“Ah… I apologize,” you say, immediately stepping closer to the bulletin to clear up the hallway. You turn your face to appear fixated on the bulletin board, but still sensing Midorima staring at you, you reluctantly peek at him from your peripheral vision. “... Is there something else you need, Midorima-san?” Midorima looks at the bulletin board for a moment before he turns back to your face.

“Regarding the group project we were paired to do in chemistry,” he starts, “the teacher praised our work very highly and wants to know if he can use it as an example for future lectures. I’m here to hear your answer on his behalf.”

You mentally sigh from the secretive disappointment. Of course Midorima was here for straightforward business. Nothing more, nothing less. Still, Takao’s words begin flitting through your mind now… of all times.

“Of course he can use it,” you smile. “I think it’s an honor to have our project regarded so highly like that, especially since so much effort was put into it… although… I think you’re the reason why we received such a high score, Midorima-san.” You train your gaze on Midorima, trying to gauge his reaction from the compliment, but he gives no such sign away, not any that you were aware of as far as you were concerned.

“(y/n)-san, I believe your own efforts and work ethic shouldn’t be trivialized,” Midorima replies, briefly closing his eyes and adjusting his frames. “After all, you are the one who made this project a cohesive final product, one that is also comprehensible to other peers in our presentation.”

“Ah… well…” You were definitely thrown in for a loop, not expecting Midorima to compliment you back so openly, albeit probably not for the reasons you were hoping for. “... Thank you, Midorima.” In an attempt to curb your growing flusteredness, you opted to stare at the bulletin board again, pretending to be occupied in reading the pinned papers.

“... Right.” Midorima softly clears his throat. “I’ll be taking my leave back to the faculty office. It was good talking to you.”

He swiftly turns around and walks back in the direction he came from, and when you were certain that he was walking judging from his footsteps, you turn your head to stare at his back before averting your gaze.

You frown once he exits out of your sight as you ponder about his particular diction.

“It was good talking to you”? Had Midorima ever said that to anyone before? You sigh to yourself and pinch your nose bridge to chastise yourself. Takao was right; you might’ve fallen a little too hard for the reserved individual, but even still, a relationship isn’t something you wanted to actively chase after.

Amidst your dilemma, you were completely unaware that Takao watched the entire exchange, holding back his laughter from seeing you uncharacteristically look like an absolute love-stricken fool. He got too much of a kick out of seeing the both of you trying to flirt… and an even bigger kick when he saw Midorima turning around to briefly “discreetly” stare at you while you were having your inner monologue.

———

“Takao, I’m having none of your bullshit today.” Midorima simply scowls as he prepares to leave the main building to the gym. Takao merely tags along while taunting him in a sing-song voice.

“Come onnn,” Takao insists, slapping Midorima’s back a little too harshly. “You said it yourself didn’t you? Favorable outcomes come to those who prepare the most. Don’t lie, I know you’ve been planning to naturally bump into our (y/n)-chan in different scenarios. Like yesterday in the hall—”

“You knew?!” Midorima jumps out of his skin to shoot an accusatory look at him, but Takao merely struggles to hold back a snicker at his reaction.

“Shin-chan, how hard is it to say three specific little words to someone else?” Takao sends a frustrated look. “You’ve always gone the extra mile to prepare your lucky items, read the Oha Asa predictions, and do little rituals not just for yourself but also for (y/n)-chan too, yet you don’t want to do a simple thing like confessing?”

“A confession isn’t that simple,” he retorts. “It can alter my fate for potentially worse if I’m not prepared.”

“Jeez, only you can take this so seriously,” Takao sighs, which only earned him a withering look from Midorima’s end. “But then again, it’s nice that you see it as something serious… but when are you actually gonna do it?” His response was only silence, as if he didn’t really give much thought about it until it was brought up now.

“That’s none of your concern.”

“Oh come on, Shin-chan!”

“To be honest,” he says, stopping in place. “The horoscope says that Cancers would be rejected by signs like of (y/n)-san’s, much less be compatible. Predictions state that such relationships between the two would be troublesome.”

“Okay, Shin-chan,” Takao says, patting Midorima’s shoulder. “I know I constantly joke about this Oha Asa and this entire thing with (y/n)-chan, but”—he stops when he sees Midorima giving him another scathing look—“even if the horoscopes state it so, it’s like you said: favorable outcomes come to those who do the most. If you did everything you could, I see no reason to be scared. Plus, you have me to help you.”

“... It’s not that. Part of this is beyond what I can do to prepare. Whatever I do will not influence (y/n)-san’s answer, and that is something out of my control.”

“You know, you could just say that you’re nervous.”

“I am not.”

“Well, if you want me to be honest,” Takao says. “I think it’s because the two of you are so eerily similar that you find it hard to approach (y/n)-san. Like, when’s the last time you’ve met someone as serious and stiff as yo—I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Please don’t raise your fist at me!”

“That being said,” he continues, “Just talk to (y/n) like you’ve talked to everyone else. I mean you both always hit it off when you talk together in class.”

“I… suppose…”

“Trust me,” Takao grins, slightly elbowing Midorima’s ribs. “I’d like to think of myself as an accurate guy in ball-passing and in detecting social cues.”

———

You really tried to carry yourself normally.

You really did.

But a part of you is becoming hyper-aware of everything Midorima does, and being your normally collected self is suddenly becoming a lot more difficult. Studying at your own desk is nigh impossible with both Midorima’s words and Takao’s implications running through your mind. Even Midorima, who normally minds his own business, shoots you pensive looks here and there during class, and he approaches you during break after.

“... Your sign is at one of the lowest ranks in luck today… may that be the reason why you’re not being your usual self?” He studies as you pull yourself together.

“Erm… somewhere along the lines, yeah. Most likely woke up on the wrong side of the bed today,” you mumble, rubbing your neck to ease the nervousness.

“Is that so…” he says. He pulls out a small toy that was found in the local gachapon down the street. “Ahem… I hear that your lucky item is this today.” He holds it out in front of you, silently waiting for you to take it, and you gently pluck it out of his large hands.

“Well, what about you?” you inquire. “I’m sure you got this toy for a reason, like say… for your own good luck?”

“Well,” he coughs. “I have my own. I am always prepared for such occurrences should things go awry.”

“You’re always so prepared for everything,” you quietly laugh. “Not that it’s a bad thing, though. I do wish I was more like you in that regard.”

“W-Well, I think you have your own admirable traits to be proud of, er…” Midorima slowly turns red and contemplates backtracking on his words. “I-If you excuse me, I must get going for health committee duties, nanodayo.” He heaves his bag on his shoulder as you wave at him, and he lingers there, debating on something that you aren’t sure what it is. “Might you have time afterschool today?”

“Uh… not that I think of,” you reply. “Are you already looking ahead to the next partner assignment?”

“Actually, no… it won’t take much of your time, (y/n)-san. It’s something quick. Can we meet at the vending machines near the gym? I do have practice around that time, so I hope somewhere nearby could suffice for you too.”

“That’s fine with me, because… I feel like I need to tell you something too or I won’t be able to study at this rate, but if you have practice, shouldn’t you be focused on that more?”

“It’s fine. This one takes… a higher priority.” Midorima fixes his glasses and readjusts his grip on his shoulder bag as he ponders about your own words. “If this arrangement is fine with you, I will be seeing you after school.” You only nod as you wave goodbye at him again, and you exhale a long sigh of relief and nervousness once he leaves. You really wonder if telling Midorima that you had something important to tell him was a good move on your part, considering that you can’t backtrack your words on someone as stubborn as him. Takao may or may not have seen Midorima’s attempt in being forward and silently laughed himself to oblivion in the corner of the classroom.

———

“Were you waiting long, Midorima-san?” You briskly jog with your heavy bag to the destined location to see Midorima thumbing through his book before he looks up.

“You are as punctual as always.” He closes his book with a thud and places it in his bag on the bench before he stands up to face you. “Which is always appreciated considering it is not as common in others.”

“I just think it’s common courtesy.”

“Not quite, considering I asked you rather suddenly to meet me here,” he says. “You aren’t obligated to even agree in meeting me, yet here you are on time, just like with our past project sessions.”

“Well… you did say it was important enough that you put practice as a second priority, and I do want to tell you something too.”

“R-Right…”

An awkward silence dominates the exchange after Midorima clears his throat and goes silent as you patiently wait in agony. You eye at his troubled expression, wondering what sort of thing he was going to tell you that got him so worked up. At the same time, you grew slightly antsier, quietly tapping a foot or rubbing your neck, and you wonder if Midorima was actually waiting for you to say something first.

“I… I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me.”

“I-I believe I may have developed feelings akin to attraction for you.”

“Uh…”

“Ahem…”

Both of you stare at each other in unadulterated surprise.

“... You… like me?” Midorima murmurs, his eyes still full blown in shock.

“L-Likewise,” you reply, opting to stare at Midorima’s bag on the bench instead. Another awkward silence ensues as both of you take in each other’s sudden words and Midorima clears his throat again.

“... Why are you afraid of liking me?” Midorima restores his composure, staring at your flustered state with furrowed brows, thinking that he somehow made you uncomfortable at some point throughout the year.

“Wait… no! That’s not what I meant!” you say, mildly shaking your head. “Uh, let me rephrase that…” Midorima silently watches you as you continue. “Well, you weren’t the person to have romance in your mind, let alone have feelings, let alone for me, and… my friendship with you is something that I treasure, and I don’t want to hinder you with such things that can make you uncomfortable in being around me. That was why I was afraid, although I’ve been in denial about it until recently.”

“I see.”

“And um, I thought that confessing to you would end the friendship we had.”

“... Likewise.” Midorima uses your word against you with an upward curl of his lip. It almost seems like he was teasing you. You grow redder at his response, but he continued. “I suppose the lucky item I gave you provided the most favorable outcome for the day.” You only nod as you processed everything that just happened in a few moments, and both of you went quiet again.

“...”

“...”

“So…”

“... I’m not sure what to do next,” Midorima frowns. “I wasn’t prepared for this particular situation, nanodayo.” You only smile at his own flusters.

“Well…” you say. “We could date, but I don’t think that’s important right now, considering that we still have to focus on school… I mean unless you want to, then we can try to make it work?”

“Ahem, while I do think these things are quite frivolous,” he says. “I suppose we can learn to balance our relationship with other aspects of our lives accordingly.”

“I would like that,” you smile, walking to approach closer to Midorima. “Could we… um, hold hands? If you’re not into that though, that’s okay.” He says nothing in response but his hand slowly reaches out for your own to gently clasp, and closes his eyes in bliss before he opens them to look at you.

“... I must go to practice soon. It’s almost time.”

“I see,” you mumble. “If that’s the case, I’ll be inside the library to cram in extra lectures.” You pull your hand away to separate, but he holds you tighter. “Midorima?”

“... I’ll walk you there, nanodayo.” He peers over your face to gauge any objections on your end, but when he finds none, he gently tugs you along as you both walk to the building next-door.

“I never knew you were into hand-holding.”

“N-Not really,” he quietly says, his ears turning red.

“Actually,” you say, bringing Midorima’s attention back to you in light of the topic change. “I need to thank Takao tomorrow… he’s the one who pushed me to confess.”

“Hmph,” he scoffs. “I do suppose that the idiot has some merits to his words.”

“I do now see what he means when he keeps insisting that we’re too alike in personality and preferences.”

“That just means we’re more compatible than what fate initially predicted, nanodayo.”

“You checked the horoscopes for relationship compatibility? Never would I have thought that such things occupied your mind, Midorima…”

“Urk—That’s…”

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Subjugation.

Word Count: 3.4k

Pairing: Yandere!Kalim/Reader & Yandere!Jamil/Reader

Synopsis: Kalim tends to get spoiled rather quickly. Jamil knows this better than most, and yet, when his self-proclaimed ‘friend’ comes to him with open arms and a problem in his unusual relationship, Jamil doesn’t have a choice but to assist.

TW: Mind-Control, Imprisonment, Mentions of Kidnapping, Delusional Mindsets, and Implied Assault.

Jamil was, first and foremost, a servant.

Less of one than he used to be, sure, but he was still the one to cook the dorm’s feasts, the unlucky savior most hesitantly went to for help when they’ve gotten themselves into trouble, and when Kalim found himself in over his head, Jamil was the one to pay the price. Kalim preferred to dress it up in flowery titles and affectionate descriptions, saying they were friends or rivals or whatever he needed to when he was asked about the nature of their relationship, but in the end, Jamil was the servant and Kalim was the master. It was as undeniable as it is unchangeable, and as much as Jamil wishes it wasn’t, it had to be true.

If it wasn’t, Jamil would’ve walked away the moment Kalim opened his mouth.

“It’ll only be for a day,” Kalim whined, his words pulled into a prolonged, childish drawl as he leaned onto one of the many cushions littered across the dorm’s common room. It was late, too late for there to be any other students within earshot, something Kalim must’ve been counting on when he decided to approach a studying Jamil. His proposal had been simple, albeit one-sided, and Jamil’s rejection had been simple, too. Kalim was never one to take ‘no’ for an answer, though. “Not even a day - twelve hours. Eight, if you want. I’d take five minutes, if I had to.”

Jamil sighed, shaking his head, the gesture more for himself than his companion. With Kalim’s oh-so-frustrating tenacity, denial was pointless. He wouldn’t stop trying to convince Jamil until he lost interest in the idea of arguing, and even then, he would still manage to waste a good few hours Jamil was never going to go back. Currently, they were ten minutes in, and Jamil had already given up scratching down notes in favor of rubbing his temples, and Kalim was either kind enough not to point it out, or oblivious enough not to notice at all. “It won’t be that easy. If I give you a day, you’ll want two. That’ll turn into a week, and…” Another sigh. Kalim swatted his side gently, and Jamil gave him an insulted huff. “It’s not going to work out. I’ve had to deal with you long enough to know that.”

“I have some self-control,” Kalim countered, crossing his arms over his chest. “A little affection won’t turn me into some drooling, thoughtless infant.”

Jamil raised an eyebrow. Kalim glared, but it came off as more of a pout.

“Hypothetically, if I do ask for more time, you can refuse. That’s why I’m coming to you!” Once again, Kalim’s tone shifted, his excitement growing as if Jamil had yet to refuse. “I can’t stop myself from making another potion or casting another spell, but you don’t have to work your magic. You can say no, and I’ll have accepted it. That’s the beauty of it - nothing’s forcing you to help me.” The plea was punctuated with a smile, wide and eager and completely unaware of Jamil’s grimace. “You have restraint, I don’t. You don’t love (Y/n), I do. It’s perfect!”

Jamil clicked his tongue, closing his notebook entirely. With a deep exhale, he let himself fall into the velvety, plush cushion behind him, a hand rising to trace the shape of one of his braids. That was one of Kalim’s many, many problems. He viewed Jamil as a free agent. He thought that, regardless of the circumstance, Jamil would do what he wanted to and little else. In reality, Jamil would do what he wanted to unless it contradicted with what Kalim wanted. He’d tried going against his master, and it hadn’t worked. He wasn’t keen to try again without the aid of a thought-out plan.

He opened his mouth, but Kalim was talking before he could get anything out. Rambling, more accurately, but keeping Jamil quiet all the same. “I know it’s not the right thing to do,” He started. “It’s not like I wanted it to come to this. I just… I thought it’d be easier, once I got them alone. I put together such a nice room and I’m really, really trying to make them love me on their own, but it’s taking a lot longer than I thought it would.” He swallowed, pausing to square his shoulders. Jamil looked on, abruptly interested with the sob-story. “I just want to know they love me, too. I just want to hear (Y/n) say it, even if it’s a lie.”

That caught Jamil off-guard. He’d played a hand in your imprisonment, bringing you to one of the spare rooms in Scarabia while you slept and making sure no one was around to see it, but guessing at Kalim’s infatuation and hearing him admit to it were two very different experiences. Jamil assumed he would be disgusted. That was the right thing to feel, wasn’t it? He should be repulsed, disturbed, revolted, but seeing Kalim fight not to curl him himself, hearing him struggle not to let his voice waver…

It was different. Jamil didn’t think he appreciated the misdirection.

His eyes dropped to the carpet. “I can give you twelve hours, and not a minute longer.”

Instantly, all traces of Kalim’s anguish disappeared, and Jamil was tackled into a hug that left him lying on his back and desperately attempting to pry a boy-shaped mess off of his chest.

Already, he regretted doing anything to warrant it.

~

In the time since Jamil last saw you, a lot had changed.

Most of it was materialistic. Your abduction had been an impulsive thing, a request made by a lovesick boy on a night dark enough to make it seem like a possibility, so the space had been sparse and undecorated, just another single room in a tower no one had occupied since before Jamil was enrolled, but Kalim had made some… renovations, since Jamil’s last visit. Rugs and tapestries hung from the walls, eye-catching methods of sound cancelation, and whatever wasn’t plated in gold had a healthy coat of silver, instead. Evidence of Kalim’s presence was everywhere, from the half-empty can of his favorite energy drink sitting on a bedside table to the chipped paint on the posts of your bed, easily overpowering whatever signs of life you might’ve managed to leave in your weeks of occupation. Even you seemed to be scarce, a reflexive panic flaring in Jamil’s chest when he failed to find you from the doorway. He had to search for you silently for a moment, but there weren’t many places to hide.

Still, he almost wished you’d made a little more of an effort.

You were shivering. You had been since the moment he stepped in, your knees pulled to your chest and your face tucked into your legs and every part of you trembling so violently, it was hard to believe you hadn’t managed to shake yourself out of your own skin. A platinum chain kept you tethered to the furthest wall, and although the shackle was lined with a generous amount of dark, purple velvet, your ankle was irritated around it, the indent red and furious, your bare wrists littered with signs of similar abuse. He wondered if he should’ve brought something, a balm or an ointment or a hacksaw, but before he could turn back, Kalim tugged on the back of his vest, and Jamil remembered what he was here to do.

You uncurled as he approached. Hesitantly, at first, but as soon as you saw it was someone who hadn’t openly glorified themselves as your captor, your shell dropped away quickly. It was a frantic sort of desperation, one that pushed you to ignore the scowl Jamil couldn’t repress as he got close enough to see the bruises around your neck, the deep cuts that stretched down your arms, swirling from shoulder to elbow. Immediately, it dawned on him that there’d probably be more on your back, your chest, your thighs, but Jamil only took a second longer to realize that, if there was, he didn’t want to know. You didn’t seem to sense his aversion, just smiling, too happy to do anything more than sit back and stare.

If he’d been any kind, Jamil’s heart might’ve broken.

You thought he was here to save you.

“Jamil,” You gasped, your voice heavy with hushed excitement. You scrambled away from your safe-haven, your knees and your palms soon pressed against the stone floor, but if you were uncomfortable, it was secondary to your utter, primal relief. He let you latch onto him as he kneeled, resting his hands on your shoulders sympathetically as you buried your face in his chest, but you were pulling away quickly, your gaze flickering from his face to his arms to the open door behind him, like you couldn’t quite believe he was there. When you spoke, it was just as hasty, just as rushed. As concerned for him as you were for yourself. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I don’t know what happened, I can’t… He won’t let me leave. I didn’t think I would ever--”

“I know.” It was a small reassurance, but an honest one. Your smile grew easier, as if he’d already promised to see after your safety. “I’m going to help. I just need you to do one thing before I can.”

“Anything.” No hesitation, no reluctance. You leaned back, but you refused to pull away, your grip on his biceps never loosening. “I’ll do anything.”

Despite his better intentions, he felt his grin broaden. “It’s simple,” He said, a hand coming up to cup your jaw. “I just need you to look into my eyes.”

Confusion flitted across your expression, bewilderment mixed with the beginning stages of betrayal, but following his commands came like a second nature, your stare meeting his before you can stop yourself. In a moment, his concentration sharpened and a familiar sense of power began to broil in his chest, something sharp and hungry reaching out, seeking a mind more malleable than his own. Unfortunately, you were the only thing nearby.

You opened your mouth one more time, but that was all you managed before you went slack, your eyes glazing over and your body going limp in his arms. You never looked away, though, never dared to take a breath he might not permit.

You were ready to serve him. You wanted to serve him.

And until he decided you were allowed to, you wouldn’t take a step he didn’t want you to take.

As soon as you went quiet, Kalim’s head poked around the doorway, scanning over your limp posture and Jamil’s unspoken control before he entered, barely hesitating before he collapsed at Jamil’s side. He took the signal, tilting your head back, making it clear who he meant to address. Not that you wouldn’t leap at any word he said, while you were like this. “Until I give you permission to do otherwise, you’ll treat Kalim as a lover. You’ll do anything he asks, and you will be grateful.” He gave himself a second to think, to add anything more specific that might’ve been necessary. His attention drifted towards your shackle, the cuff tighter than he remembered it being, a minute ago. “Whether you’re restrained or free, you will not leave the confines of this room. Other than that, act of your own volition.”

Your reaction was delayed, but just as Kalim began to get antsy, your face lit up, your neutrality quickly turning into adoration. Again, you moved forward, but rather than attempting to earn Jamil’s kindness, you threw your arms around Kalim’s neck, whispering something inaudible into his ear before giggling as you were pulled into his lap, the blatant display already starting to make Jamil feel sick. You fear was gone, replaced with something tender and affectionate, too loving to be natural. But, Kalim didn’t seem bothered. “This is perfect,” He cooed, his more stoic companion already near-forgotten. “We’re going to have a lot of fun, aren’t we, treasure? And all thanks to Jamil.”

You nodded enthusiastically, and Jamil sighed, more desensitized than he was defeated. “Twelve hours,” He warned, pushing himself to his feet. “And not a minute longer.”

Kalim smiled, his fingers moving to your hair, petting through it idly as he encouraged you to litter quick, playful kisses over his jawline. His stare was just as distant as yours. “That’ll be enough.”

~

It wasn’t enough.

In Kalim’s defense, he did make the effort to act like he was trying to stave himself off. There were weeks between the first request and the second, each day without complaint and only the occasional mention of how nice it was to hold you or kiss you or take you out of your restraints, but his request did come, and it came again two weeks after that, then one, then four days. Always for twelve hours, and always posed as if he’d never asked before. And, with some hesitance, Jamil always agreed.

He was just that generous, he guessed.

It was an improvement, he told himself. You couldn’t resume classes or get away from your captor, but you weren’t chained to a bed, either, or conscious enough to experience the brunt of Kalim’s ‘love’ as he forced it onto you. He caught glimpses of it, your one-sided bliss. You were kept away from the other students, but occasionally, he’d find you leaning on a kitchen counter sometime after midnight, watching Kalim raid the dorm’s pantry, or clinging to Kalim’s waist in the early hours of the morning, pouting because you knew you were going to be left alone until he returns. You looked healthier. You weren’t as afraid as you used to be.

Not when you were under his control, at least.

He could almost see why Kalim preferred you this way, if he was being honest. Laid across Kalim’s bed, silken robes splayed out around you and your arms outstretched above you, allowing you to admire the golden, jewel-encrusted rings dripping from your fingers. Even before your time in Kalim’s care, you would’ve taken any excuse to get something so gaudy away from you, but these were gifts from someone you loved, someone you worshiped. Right now, you’d sooner die than attempt to remove them.

He had to clear his throat before you’d glance in his direction, ripping your eyes away from the finery with a good deal of difficulty. He moved to speak, but you were faster, your reaction instantaneous, rehearsed. Something that’d been drilled into your head time and time again, by himself and by your captor. “Kalim says I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

He smiled, unable to stop himself. “I’m just a friend,” Jamil explained, indulging your induced naivety. “I’m looking for him, actually. You don’t know where he is, do you?”

“Any friend of Kalim’s is a friend of mine,” You chirped, happily rolling onto your stomach. Instantly, your attention went back to your rings, but you were just fiddling with them, now, tracing the shape of perfectly cut rubies and emeralds. “He said he’d be back, soon, but he still left me alone. He never takes me with him, isn’t that mean?” The question was rhetorical, punctuated by a small huff. “He says he cares about my safety, but he’s gone for hours, sometimes. That doesn’t seem like something he would do if he cared about me.”

“How cruel.” If you noticed the dryness in his tone, you didn’t call him out, only nodding and sinking further into the mattress. He went on, if only out of curiosity. “And you stay with him regardless?”

At that, you perked up, straightening yourself just enough to cement your resolve, as well. “Of course,” You said, glad to prove your loyalty. “Kalim does so much for me… Staying put is the least I can do to show him how much I appreciate him.”

He didn’t push you further, only smirking as you babbled on, content to talk about anything and everything, as long as had to do with your never-dying dedication. It wasn’t long before he let the door close behind him, taking a seat on the edge of Kalim’s bed. In the moment, he told himself he was waiting. Kalim would come back to you eventually, so Jamil was just saving time, but even then, he must’ve known he was lying.

He couldn’t say he blamed himself, though.

Anyone would’ve had a hard time resisting a pet so obedient.

~

He’d almost forgotten how hard you kicked.

Even with your hands restrained, a pair of silver handcuffs keeping your wrists chained to the headboard despite your complaints, you still found a way to make your displeasure known. It’d been difficult enough to pin you down long enough to straddle your waist, earning Jamil a bruise on his bicep and a tight ache in his left shoulder, but your squirming wasn’t much of a reward, your closed eyes and your grit teeth only adding insult to injury. You didn’t try to scream, but your thrashing could’ve drawn attention on its own, violent and frantic and frustrating. For once, Jamil was glad to be alone with you. The mild-mannered reputation he’d taken so long to perfect certainly would’ve taken a hit if anyone saw him lose his temper so quickly.

“Stop!” You didn’t scream, but you weren’t afraid to yell, your voice pitchy, uneven, desperate. As distraught and as futile as the feet still beating at your mattress. “I’ll behave, I promise, I just--” The thought fell short, fading into a stuttered breath as Jamil took you by your collar (a thick, titanium thing too heavy for anyone to wear casually), shoving you down before you could attempt to sit up. You didn’t attempt to resist, grudgingly accepting the change with a practiced defeatism. A week ago, he might’ve felt bad for you, given you some space or let his mind wander to all the many reasons you had to polish such a specific skill. He wasn’t feeling that considerate, now. “I don’t want to be like that again,” You went on, quieter, but no calmer. “I won’t try to get away, I just can’t keep... existing like this.”

It was a messy promise, poorly worded due to panic and uninformed distress, but Jamil smirked, letting you go. You didn’t waste time, twisting your head to the side and pressing your cheek against the wrinkled sheets, but he didn’t move to stop you, either. “It’s not your call,” He grunted. “Kalim likes it, and you can’t act like a brat when you’re under my control. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he preferred it when you were dumbed-down and easier to handle.”

You shrunk, but you didn’t argue, didn’t correct it. You were desperate, but you weren't delusional. “I… I don’t care. I can be ‘easier to handle’ without your help.” You swallowed, your expression relaxing, but you never opened your eyes. “You’re not a monster, I know you’re doing this because you have to, but I need you to help me. You don’t have to let me go, just… please, I can’t keep doing this.”

He pursed his lips. “If Kalim--”

“Kalim doesn’t have to know.”

You spat the proposal abruptly, leaving Jamil stunned. The shock lingered, even when he processed what you were suggesting, rendering him speechless, silent. For a moment, he didn’t react. For a moment, he didn’t know what to say.

And then, just as suddenly, he laughed.

“That’s so sweet! You think we’re friends, you think I want to help you,” He chuckled, the words coming out between forced, erratic gasps, only distorted further by the jagged edges of his stark, inescapable smirk. You stiffened, but it didn’t make a difference. Before you could steele yourself, his fingers were entangled in your hair, wrenching your head back by the scalp, prying your eyes open with all the grace of a drunken brute. You tried to look away, to focus on a wall or the ceiling or anything but Jamil, but he didn’t care. He was so, so sick of using his magic for something so easily accomplished.

He wanted this to be personal. He wanted you, the real you, kicking and writhing underneath him until you stopped. He wanted to see you submit and surrender all on your own, without his merciful, numbing help. He wanted you to scream and beg and act like you loved him just as much as you pretended to love Kalim, just as much as he deserved to be loved.

And he didn’t want anyone getting in the way, friend or master or something inbetween.

“I’m not doing this for Kalim, anymore.”