#and if it hadn’t already done it for me prior then this scene sure as heck did

[lylaseb]

春风十里不如你

[pretty-blkgirl]

Soul’s Desire [Ch. 29]

- Masterlist -

A/N: Contains a written part. There is a TW for this chapter. Scenes of physical assault are present, it’s also a very heavy chapter in general. Please be mindful and don’t read anything that may upset you!!!

~~~~|~~~~

“This is a cute place,” Your mom remarked when you three stepped into the house. Hyunjin was standing close to you, already a little put off by your mother, considering she asked him what business he had been doing at your apartment less than three minutes prior.

When he explained he was a “friend” of yours, your mom rolled her eyes and told him you couldn’t have possibly had so many friends.

Hyunjin was done with her after that, but you still allowed her in the dorm despite his looks of disapproval.

“Thank you,” You said, “Yumi and Hana decorated it for the most part. They have an eye for-”

“You have no pictures of me and you” Your mom frowned as she looked at the photo wall you and the girls had.

To be fair, there were no pictures of any of you guys’ families. The wall was only meant for pictures of you and the group.

“I have a picture of us in my room” You revealed, “I’ll show it to you”

“I want a picture of us out here though.”

“Let’s go see the picture,” Hyunjin smiled. To your mom, he looked polite, to you, he looked beyond pissed.

You set the food down and took them to your room. After setting your purse down, you pointed in the direction of your bedside table. As you said, there was a picture of you and your mom. It was an older picture, you were maybe one or two years old, but it was a picture nonetheless.

“That’s nice” She mumbled

You took your guests back to the dining room to finally eat lunch. You wanted your mom to leave quickly, you could tell her mood had soured for whatever reason and you didn’t want to deal with that.

As you three ate, she started to get a little antsy, which made you nervous.

“Mom, are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine baby” She grinned, but her leg shook violently and she kept looking back towards the hallway.

“You sure?”

“Well” She sighed, “Can I use the restroom?”

“Of course” You nodded, “Do you remember the way to my room? The bathroom is right across from it”

She nodded and stood up, excusing herself and leaving you and Hyunjin alone.

Once he was sure he heard a door close, Hyunjin gave you a look

“I know that’s your mother, and I’d never disrespect her, but… I don’t like her!” He whispered, “I don’t know baby, she just gives off this….vibe. It’s a bad vibe, she seems so spiteful”

You crossed your arms, taking in Hyunjin’s words as you replayed the last couple of days in your mind.

Her whole demeanor just didn’t sit right with you. Either she was too sweet or very passive-aggressive. A few times she swore at you, and you could tell she hadn’t really changed.

At least, she didn’t change enough for you.

“She’s supposed to leave in a couple of days. I think I’m gonna do low contact. I don’t think she grew as a person. It’s like she’s trying to appease me”

You two continued to talk. Five minutes went by. Then ten. Then twenty.

“Why isn’t she out yet?” you asked your boyfriend, who looked just as concerned as you

“Let’s go check on her”

You got up with Hyunjin following close behind. As you walked up to the bathroom, you noticed the door was slightly ajar and the light was off.

You peeked in and didn’t see anyone there.

Then, you noticed your bedroom door was closed. You knew you left it open when you three walked out earlier.

A bad feeling settled in your stomach as you barged into your room.

The first thing you saw was your clothes all over the floor. Your shirts, pants, shorts, and even underwear were scattered everywhere.

Naturally, your drawers were opened, some even fully emptied. Your closet was ransacked and you saw a pile of coats and purses on the floor.

Pieces of paper were crumpled up in a pile, and a dark blue journal was close by, so you immediately knew your diary had been destroyed.

All your posters had been ripped down. All the pictures Hyunjin drew for you were torn apart.

Every love song Han wrote for you that you taped up, destroyed.

Every Polaroid you took with I.N., was destroyed.

The pictures of Soonie, Doognie, and Dori that Lee Know gave to you that featured little words of encouragement on them, were destroyed.

Love poems from Seungmin

Sticky notes with reminders to “keep being cute” or “keep doing well” from Changbin

Origami boats from Felix

And every single flower Chan had ever gotten for you.

He knew you loved roses, and he insisted on getting you real ones even though you couldn’t take care of them.

They were dead and fragile, but you still kept them in a vase just for memory's sake.

Now they lay on the floor. Crushed.

The very last thing you saw was your mother, sitting on your bed, with your wallet in one hand and your debit cards and cash in the other.

“Wow” is all you said

Hyunjin felt your rage build up. The symbol was practically burning a hole through his palm. He knew the other boys could feel it, and they were probably calling and texting you both non-stop.

Your phones were in the other room though, and honestly, you couldn’t give a damn about answering a phone at that moment.

All you felt was pure anger.

All of a sudden you were fifteen years old again, watching your mom demolish your room after she found out you kissed a boy at a school dance.

Then you were twenty, right before you left for Korea, watching her smash every plate, vase, and picture frame she could get her hands on after she learned that you’d be “abandoning her”

You don’t know what set her off this time. You didn’t want to know.

“How could I be so damn stupid?” You wondered aloud, “Why didn’t I tell you to go fuck yourself the moment I found out you showed up at my fucking place of work?”

“Watch your mouth, girl” Your mother snapped, still holding your things in her hands.

“Nah, FUCK THAT. I allowed you to waltz your ass back into my life and this is how you repay me? Wrecking my room? Ruining everything I cherish most?”

You walked further into the room, slowly getting closer to your mother.

Hyunjin knew you were about to do something drastic, so he sprung into action, grabbing your arm before you had a chance to raise it.

Your mom seemingly took this as a challenge. She threw your money and cards down, standing up and getting in your face.

“I read your little diary. I saw all the things you said about me. You think I’m a failure as a mother? You think I don’t give a fuck about you, huh? You called me a narcissistic bitch. I’ll show you a bitch alright”

Her hand raised and she slapped you.

It was so quick, you could barely process what had happened. Hyunjin, though, moved you behind him.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” He fumed, “Don’t you ever put your fucking hands on her again”

“Please move Hyunjin” You trembled, hands visibly shaking as he continued to yell profanities at your mother.

“No! I’m gonna call the fucking police, you think you’re gonna get away with hitting her? Are you fucking dumb?”

“Hyunjin leave the room please”

“Y/n she HIT YOU! I’M NOT LEAVING YOU ALONE WITH HER”

“Please leave and call Rose. Tell her I need an NDA and my mom on the next flight back home”

He was about to argue more, but you gave him a look so desperate he wouldn’t dare to talk back. Hyunjin begrudgingly left, but made sure to leave the door wide open just in case he needed to rush back in.

When he was gone, you faced your mother.

You loved her.

You loved her so much.

Despite how much she mistreated and hurt you, all you wanted was for her to love you back.

You needed her approval, you craved her attention. But the moment she had the nerve -the audacity- to hit you, any hope for reconciliation was out the window.

“My manager will be here any second. You are going to sign an NDA because I don’t trust you won’t try to make money off this situation. Once you sign it, you will get the fuck out of my house. Someone will drive you to your Airbnb, you will get your shit, and you will go back home. As soon as you’re out my eyesight I’m getting rid of any and every trace of you. After today, you will not be able to get a hold of me again. And I swear to God, if you ever find yourself thinking you’re gonna try and ruin my life any more than you already have, I’ll get a lawyer and sue your ass so quickly that you won’t even have a pot to piss in by the time I’m through with you.”

As if on cue, Hyunjin walks back in with Rose.

“Y/nnie? What happened? I got here as quick as I could- what happened to your room? Is your face bruised up?”

“Do you have the NDA, Rose?”

“Yes, I mean I have a regular one? What did you want one for specifically?”

“What are the guidelines in that one?”

She quickly skimmed through the papers, “The person who signs it can’t reveal any details about any situation that could harm the artist’s reputation or image in any way, with certain stipulations of course”

“Let’s say my mom destroyed my room, hit, and planned to rob me. If she signed those documents, would she be able to talk about it in exchange for money or even…exposure?”

Rose was quiet for a few seconds, finally understanding the gravity of the situation

“No” She finally said, “Not unless she wanted to get a couple of lawsuits”

“What if she made up a story to try and harm my reputation?”

“That wouldn’t be a very smart thing to do, especially if she planned on living a peaceful life”

You wordlessly took the papers and grabbed a pen off your desk, giving both the items to your mom. With a look of disbelief mixed with hatred, she signed the papers and threw them on the floor.

“You were a mistake” She sneered, “I hate you”

You thought your heart would break, you thought you would crumble at her words, but you simply nodded.

“Goodbye Mom”

Rose escorted her out, and you finally started to feel the warm sensation on your cheek.

Your legs were wobbly, and they gave out after a few seconds. Hyunjin was at your side instantly, holding you as you started to sob violently.

~~~~|~~~~

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[keepingitformyself]

we might just get away with it (i)

A/N: hey all!!! this is the first part of my first ever series, i’ve had this one in the drafts for a while and i’ll try my best to update it as much as i can. a-lot of this first part is just setting up readers life until their eventual meet with natasha (who goes by natalie rushman in this) this is an AU. HOPE YOU ENJOY!!!! i had a lot of fun writing this one.

ALSO: in honor of scarlett johansson opening an instagram account.

synopsis: hollywood is a tricky place for someone new like you, a certain elusive redhead is hoping for you to let her in.

pairings: writer!natasha romanoff x youngactress!reader

genre: fluff.

warnings: none.

part two found here. part ii

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

—————————

you hadn’t been in the dating scene since you graduated college two years ago. it was a long time to go without going on a proper date with anyone, even your mother had called at one point to voice her concerns on why her only daughter hadn’t brought anyone back home to introduce.

truth be told, the mere idea of a relationship really stressed you out. especially now that you’ve been working tirelessly since the second you left college. the week after graduation your plane had already been booked four months in advance when you found out you landed the role for a lead in a film.

you left your hometown in texas and flew to la for a three month shoot. it was only in post-production for five months before the first teaser dropped and two months later the film finally hit hbo max to stream.

the success of it was enough to earn you an online following. people within the industry had reached out in hopes of getting to know you or even work with you. and now people knew your name enough for you to have been stopped a handful of times during grocery runs.

it was back to work in getting auditions and doing things that kept your artist mind flowing. it wasn’t too long before you landed a role for another lead in a netflix series.

the director of the series was a well known one. greta gerwig, it was her first time directing for tv as opposed to film, she told you she was truly impressed by your delivery in the film you’d been in months prior. you felt incredibly lucky to have even been thought of for her leading girl.

you told her you were a fan of the work she’d done. how you truly cherished her way of encapsulating the female experience through her writing and directing.

she smiled gratefully and said she hoped you’d be willing to accept the role she was practically offering to you, you knew she was just teasing. no one was stupid enough to let an opportunity like this pass. you said yes without hesitance.

it was a lot more intimidating this time around.

you were set to shoot for six months in london. a whole different country thousands of miles away from friends and family. you left home two months later.

greta was amazing, the sets were amazing, the cast was amazing, the crew you were especially grateful for. you made sure they knew that by ordering a free coffee and pastry truck to set every friday.

some of it comes as a blur to you. it’s easy to get lost in the craft when you love it so much, your mother told you once. you worked tirelessly often times worrying the ones around you but you promised you were fine. it was very easy for others to say how lovable and playful you were while still being able to maintain the professionalism that was needed on set.

it’s what they loved most about you. so it was no surprise to anyone when there started to be some conversations involving you, the star, and the series.

there had been mutterings between crew and even your own cast-mates.

you were in the city today, sat outside a corner coffee shop in mayfair. devyn, a cast mate of yours, and self proclaimed local, offered to show you around london.

‘i heard gary, one of our light technicians say that he heard the producers talk about how they’re expecting a huge rollout once they start announcing the series.’ devyn said as he sipped on his latte.

‘what do you mean?’ you took your eyes off the busy street to look at your cast mate.

‘you’re an absolute powerhouse in this series, you know that right?’ he told you seriously. ‘everyone sees it, there’s no doubt this show is gonna get big. they’re already expecting it to be.’

you cringed at his words, you were never good for taking compliments. ‘oh god, please stop.’ he smiled with a shake of his head, a look on his face that screamed, you’ll see.

turns out devyn was definitely not talking out of his ass.

greta had started to pull you out for meetings with the producers. they spoke to you about how netflix was willing to go all in for promoting.

greta told you herself, ‘although netlfix will definitely be a big help, i think just the show on its own is already set for a very promising release.’

they had you sign contracts and explained to you what would happen once filming was over. 1. you’re gonna go home and take a well needed three month break. 2. prepare yourself for what’s to come. 3. then you were to be called back in for promo shoots and teaser reels. 4. get ready for the big premiere.

‘it’s gonna be a lot, there’s no way of knowing the scale of success this will reach except that it will be huge, and a lot of that will be you.’ tony, one of the producers told you. greta along with everyone else in the meeting nodded to his words.

‘yeah, some stills from some of the finished scenes released a few weeks ago. it’s easy to say a lot of people seemed to make noise from that.’ rhys, another producer said.

your blood ran cold. although it was easy to say you were proud of how far you were able to come on such a short notice… it also sort of felt like a lot was being thrown at you all at once.

you maybe had an idea of what your life would be looking like afterwards. you remember seeing all sorts of opinions once it was found out by the world that you’d be the next lead for greta gerwig’s first ever series.

mostly everyone was excited. greta on her own was an insanely talented writer and director, people were happy to hear she’d be turning to tv and seeing what she’d come up with. you remember the week following the announcement feeling a little overwhelmed, all due to the men in cameras who had followed you around for a week.

‘rising actress Y/N Y/L/N seen leaving her west hollywood condo ahead of reports saying that she’s been casted for the lead in greta gerwig’s next directorial project.’

you’re thinking that maybe life will look like that but multiplied by a thousand, but you’re hoping not…? the success part will be great. why wouldn’t it be? it’s all you’ve ever wanted. to be a successful actress. but at the expense of having your life put on a pedestal? it was a very tricky thing to play at.

greta gave you a smile, almost teasing, like she knew the big secret that everyone else didn’t.

she leaned forward with her arms crossed on the table. ‘once this is over, it will never truly be over. are you ready for it?’

nothing could have ever prepared you enough for what would come with the release of the series. if you thought everyone knew your name before, they definitely do now.

the release of the series was just seven months after you finished filming it. it definitely had a huge rollout like everyone else said it would. you don’t remember much of the premier either. it was a bunch of flashes and getting asked questions. as soon as you got home you knocked out cold.

number one in seventy three countries was a lot. you wouldn’t even want to imagine the amount of people it took to watch you for that to happen.

but with the success of the series also came a huge amount of scrutiny on your personal life. within the week of its release you’d had an influx of followers on any social platform they could find you on.

apparently that still wasn’t enough. people were itching to know more about the new girl that had come out of nowhere and stolen their attention in just a week.

it was all very scary. it was all mostly positive, at least the things you’ve seen and been shown. your agent and team did a great job at keeping you away from all the bad. you still knew it was all there though. people loved you but people also really disliked you.

you’ve also come to learn that people chronically online are insane. especially if you give them something to hyper fixate on, you knew of the tweets and posts people had been making of you. it made you absolutely freak out how fast people were to find out every little thing there was to know about you in such a short time.

‘i want you to go home for the week. not home in LA, home as in with your mom.’ samantha, your agent, told you. samantha along with your publicist fred, had seen firsthand what was being said online. she’s been in the industry long enough to know how ugly it can get for the victims, you were young and she wanted to protect you from that as much as possible.

‘i called your mom, she’s already expecting you home by tomorrow morning. your plane leaves at midnight.’ you nodded gratefully. the tension in your shoulders had slouched a little after hearing that. you missed your mom and you were scared as shit right now.

samantha was there in the uber when you were dropped off. she bid you goodbye and told you she’d call you for details on the next flight back to LA. ‘rest as much as you can, the press tour is gonna hit real hard.’

now came the insanely difficult part. the week back home went too fast and now you’re on a plane back to LA where your agent and a stylist were awaiting your arrival.

as soon as you’re off the gate a beefy man in jeans and a polo helps to escort you towards your luggage and eventually the car. ‘ma’am, just a heads up. there’s paps.’ he tells you before quickly ushering you out the glass doors and into the suv.

you don’t remember much after that. just that as soon as you arrived to your condo you were quickly pushed into a room with a stylist and pushed into another car after that.

the week had gone fast for the amount you’ve been doing. you’d met up with your cast-mates for the first time in a while and you were happy for that. most days it was just going to interviews answering questions, promoting, playing question games, more questions, etc…

it was finally friday. but promo was far from over. ‘you’re flying out tomorrow morning to new york and then we’re off to europe for the week.’

tonight was the huge post-premier party for the series. it was expected that there’d be quite a few well known names attending tonight aside from the cast. although a part of you was dreading another night of questions and just overall socializing, you knew it was needed to network.

cameras flashed in your face and people shouted your name upon arrival, but people were quick to let you in. ‘there’s a lot of people who want to speak with you.’ samantha tells you. you nod and put on your best brave face for the night.

samantha lingers around you as you cycle through speaking with all kinds of people. producers, actors, writers and the like. the first two hours fly by and things have reached some sort of stasis by then.

you’re in the middle of a conversation with some cast mates when tony— who you recognize as one of your producers— walks up to you with a redhead in tow.

‘the woman of the hour!’ he raises his arms to hug you.

‘i have to introduce you to natalie! she’s an excellent writer!’ the redhead next to him who you now know as natalie lets out a dry laugh at the man’s words. he was very obviously drunk.

and you see now that she is very obviously attractive.

she takes a few steps towards you and sticks out her hand for you to shake.

‘i hear you’re the talk of the town. have not stopped reading about you online.’ the smirk she wears makes you appreciate her beauty even more.

it was true. you were everywhere— in the tabloids, the headlines…natasha indulged in every single piece of information about you that she came across.

she also might’ve convinced tony to somehow introduce you two when she found out he was working with you.

she was a fan since your last film, and as a working screenwriter for film and television, she caught a bit of inspiration from seeing you on her screen.

‘i’ve gotta say, i was really impressed by your performance in this show. greta is a long time friend, she did good in choosing you.’ natalie compliments.

‘oh, thank you! it was a pleasure to work with her…she’s great.’ you cringe at your words. you still aren’t any better at taking these compliments no matter how many you get.

natalie smiles at you in silent understanding. she’s picked up on the small awkwardness that underlies the conversation.

you let out a low huff and motion towards the bartender to get you a shot of tequila. natalie quirks an eyebrow at your order but doesn’t question it.

‘do you want a drink?’ you turn to natalie with a smile. not only is your social battery slowly starting to diminish but talking to someone like natalie will have you saying nonsense.

you figure you’ll need a drink if you’re gonna continue to speak with her.

‘a diet coke will do me right. i’m driving home tonight.’ she says, the bartender nods and fixes your drinks.

an hour later and the drinks are sure to have calmed you down. in fact they’ve done more than just calm you down.

natalie and you spend a long while talking about anything and everything. you bond over being major nerds when it comes to philosophy. she tells you about how she double majored in philosophy and english at nyu.

‘my love for english had always existed but after taking a philosophy course my freshman year, it’s like i needed to write about these things that were talked about. i needed people to see what i thought about.’ natalie explains to you.

you’ve come to enjoy natalie despite only have met her about an hour and a half ago.

you tell her about how you were a huge thespian in high school and entering college, how philosophy was an added bonus when you figured out they both go very well together.

you’re grasping her arm as you explain it to her.

‘i mean genuinely i would hear so much about aristotle in my ethics class and then he’d somehow be connected to creating the 6 elements of a play! how crazy is that?!’

natalie is trying hard to concentrate on your words. you’d think it’d be a lot easier for her given the fact that she hasn’t had a single drop of alcohol…but all she can pay attention to is your lips. how they’ve now plumped up slightly due to your drinking.

she’s completely smitten with you by now, and she’s just met you. you’re definitely not like what the internet makes you out to be. for the most part, it really is just the alcohol in you.

you continue to ramble on.

‘honestly, i think socrates is good guy— like he has some great ideas but it’s kinda annoying how he thinks his way is the only way and he makes it his entire personality— ugh hold on i need to go piss.’

you’re clearly too drunk to care about what words leave your mouth. natalie doesn’t seem to mind it— and quite frankly neither do you.

‘do you need help getting there?’ natalie is quick to ask. all in good intentions, of course.

‘uhhh, yeah.’ you’re quick to agree. you have a rule, always travel in pairs when alcohol is present.

your arm is hooked to natalie’s as she helps lead you to the restrooms. it’s here when you get a slight whiff of her. you cringe at how weird you think of it in your head.

but she smells awfully appealing. like suede, lemon and a fireplace. all combined.

‘you smell really nice,’ you say, too worried about your bladder to care.

you feel vibrations of a chuckle leave natalie, you smile when you see her smiling too.

you nearly run into a stall as soon as you’re in the seemingly empty bathroom, thank god, you think. pee anxiety is a real thing.

you feel a little more level headed after doing your business. natalie waits by the door staring as you dry your hands.

‘feel better?’ you hear her ask.

‘much,’ you smile, a drunk one, your mind a little hazy.

‘i had a fun time tonight, with you, i mean.’ you find yourself saying.

she quirks an eyebrow. you continue.

‘i’ve had a really stressful past few weeks, it was nice to just…drink and talk knowing my words wouldn’t be plastered on some magazine issue the next day.’ you finish. your body is still buzzing. the alcohol making your body slightly move in place. but nonetheless you feel oddly content.

natalie smiles. a really big one.

‘i’m glad i could help take the edge off,’ she says.

you chuckle, turn to the mirror and make sure your makeup is still in place. a ding from your phone makes itself known, indicating a message. you dig through your clutch bag to get it.

we’re leaving now, you have an early start. plane to nyc leaves at 7:35am.

the text message from samantha reads.

you huff.

‘sorry to cut this short, natalie. my presence is needed near the entrance. i have to be in new york tomorrow before noon.’ you smile apologetically

she smiles. a part of her wasn’t surprised at all. you’re you, and everyone wants to be around you. she was surprised she even had your attention for more than an hour.

she nods. ‘i get it, can i ask why though?’

‘interview with fallon, i think.’ is all you say before you step closer to the redhead and press a kiss to her cheek. you think nothing of it.

‘truly, it was lovely to meet you natalie.’ and she doesn’t have the chance to reply before you’re out the restroom door.

natalie realizes she never got your number.

two days later, she’s made it back to her home in new york. natalie decides to shake off the jet lag with late night televison and a glass of wine in hand.

ironically, jimmy fallon is on.

‘please welcome…!’ and she sees you appear before her.

she is so captivated, she doesn’t realize she’s finished the bottle of pinot grigio next to her.

stupid as it sounds, this is when natalie rushman decided she wanted to be a part of whatever world you were creating for yourself.

[ace-of-snz]

I think it’s about time I post something of my own!

This is the first story I’ve written for my little sci-fi/urban fantasy universe, which I’ve dubbed Case Files. It’s actually been up on the forum for about a year, but I’ve neglected posting it anywhere else.

Hoping I get a passing grade in writing robot snz stuff, because this guy WILL be sneezing more =]

——————————————————————

Case 1: Archives of the Occult

[Android, M, Dust]

——————————————————————

I’d been informed of the big changes to the precinct three weeks prior.

Our precinct was finally on the list to receive funding for the newest available technology, and that week, that included androids.

I’d seen the bots walking down the streets sometimes— human as they could be, you had to really look to be able to tell them apart. The companies making them had done a *good job*, and that much was clear. I often wondered how much magic had to truly be imbued in an automaton like that to make it work so fluidly, because there wasn’t any way they were just mechanical.

But they were damn expensive. So you can imagine my bafflement when my captain had come up to my desk, dumped a stack of books on it, and told me to ‘read up, Hickman, because we’ve got some damn good funding, and I don’t want it to go to waste’.

I’d met my new android a week later. Android Mk. 20.3, who Captain Gibbs had already taken to calling just ‘20.3’. I shortened it to Twenty, and the android couldn’t have cared less.

…To be honest, I don’t think he was half bad in terms of androids. He looked *good*, if I’m still being too honest. He carried a stoic demeanor that I wasn’t exactly sure was caused by being an android, or if that was just a him thing. Serious and no-nonsense, it seemed. 

Male detectives seemed to have been paired with male-model androids, and female detectives seemed to have been paired with female-model androids. I thought that was a little dumb, but hey, looking at Twenty, I definitely couldn’t complain.

We were given a week to get used to our new androids before we were sent out on jobs with them.

And that’s what led me here, to the basement library of an old abandoned house, where an occult-related murder had occurred. Twenty and I were told that there likely would be related books that we could find down here that would be relevant in determining the cause of death for this case (which, seeing the scene, had… quite obviously been magic.)

I didn’t know how to read Latin. But Twenty, being an android, absolutely could, and now we were here, in an abandoned basement, flipping through book after book after book. I was tasked in looking for books that may be spellbooks, while Twenty skimmed through the ones that actually were written in Latin.

It was boring as hell. But it was work, so I’d take it. 

I took a new book off the shelf, replacing my previous one, and brought it back to where I’d been seated. 

…Before I could begin reading it, though, I was distracted by a soft chuffing sound from behind me.

I turned just in time to see Twenty bobbing down a second time, nose clamped in one hand. A hiss of air exited the set of vents on either side of his neck, and when he resurfaced, the look on his face was one I never thought I’d see on a robot— especially not from him.

Irritation. Itchy, tickly irritation, and his face contorted a brief second before he bobbed down a third time. Rather than being completely silent, this one was accompanied by a little ‘hngk—!’ and that same noise of escaping air.

It took me a moment to fully register the fact that my android companion was sneezing. I mean, obviously I’d scoured the books that Captain Gibbs had given me (and my attention had been completely snagged by the page on sneezing), but I hadn’t expected it to look like this. So… natural. Fluid. The expression on his face made something flip within me. If not for the slats on his neck, I’d completely believe he was human. 

Blindsided as I was by this, it took me a moment to regain my senses.

…That probably wasn’t a good sign, was it?

“Twenty? You okay?”

He seemed to be done for now, and he straightened, giving an experimental sniff.

“…Yes, I’m fine.��

“Was that… Were you sneezing?” The question was out of my mouth before I could fully think about it. Twenty gave me a confused look.

“…Yes? I… Suppose I was.” He sniffed again— something had to have been… well, getting to him was the only thing I could come up with. “As far as I know, it’s a function that ah-ahhctivates when my— eh-ehhxcu-hu-se m—“ 

He clamped a hand tightly around his nose as fast as he could before he shook with the suppressed sneeze. A hiss of air came from the vents, and then he straightened again.

“Ghhuh… Excuse me. I believe what I was saying is that it’s a function that activates when my filters get too full of irritants. It works very well in expelling them.” 

“Oh. That makes sense. What’s causing it?” 

He sniffed again.

“It’s very likely that it’s the dust. This place hasn’t been touched in years, and even the finest dust could wreak havoc on the more delicate of my inner workings.”

“Why do you keep doing it? There can only be so much dust that can get stuck within that period of time, right?”

If he’d been human, I think he would’ve gotten sick of my questions real fast. If he’d been human, I would rather die than ask these sorts of questions. But it was my job to ask questions, and, well… I had to admit, I was really curious.

“Well, that’s… holding them in certainly isn’t as effective in expelling irritants.”

“Don’t hold them in, then.” 

“It usually takes quite a few… I suppose you could call them sneezes. But it takes quite a few of them to remove the irritants, and I’d rather not be standing here trying to get all of the dust out when I just know that more will take its place.” 

I opened my mouth to reply, and closed it again, feeling my heart jump. Oh. Great. He was prone to sneezing fits, as well.

…I couldn’t tell if I was winning or losing today. I mean, obviously I wanted to see it happen, but this was a professional setting and I was on a job so I’d just… ignore it. Yeah. 

“Alright. We’ll make this quick then, how about that?”

He gave me a curt nod, but I could see his face twitch as he tried to stave off the irritation.

“…Or, what if—“

“Ngk—! Hh— hh—“ There was another in there, I could tell, and he was trying so hard not to let it out. But being an android, it was quite literally programmed into him. There was no way he’d be able to stop it.

“What if you just—“

“Ch’ht!”

That one came with almost a noise. He looked miserable, I could tell that much. How much dust was actually in here?

“What if you left the room to clear your filters, and I stayed here to continue looking?”

“Absolutely not.” He sniffed again. “You have no idea what you’re looking for.”

“Excuse me? Hey, I’m just as involved in this case as you are!”

“And you still don’t have any idea what you’re looking for. Can you even read Latin?”

“I—“

“That’s what I thought. N—Now…”

He sniffed again, and brought a knuckle to press to his septum. I briefly wondered if it tickled in his nose area at all— I assumed his filters were within the vents on his neck.

“Hh-knn!”

It seemed that the more he stifled, the more intense his sneezes were getting. He was being far more stubborn than he needed to about this. But if he wanted to be stubborn, then he certainly could. I wasn’t about to stop him.

We continued our work in silence— or, well, near silence, as it kept being broken by the flipping of pages or the quiet stifled sneezes that Twenty thought I couldn’t hear. Unluckily for him, though, my… relation to sneezing had me hypervigilant, ears pricked closely for the slightest of uneven breaths. 

—————

“This search is useless.” I grumbled after a while, and Twenty looked up at me.

“Id’s id here, I’b sure of id.”

I first and foremost noted the thickness of his voice.

“Ca’bdai’d Gibbs told us id was likely dowd here rather thad adywhere else.”

“We’ve been here for hours and we’ve found nothing.”

“We jusd habe to keep luh—looki’g.” His face twisted in irritation, and he clamped his nose hard between his fingers, bobbing down once, twice, three times, trembling with the effort of holding them in.

“Ngk! H-Ngk! Hh— Hh’CHnngk!” That last one had been louder than any sneeze I’d heard from him thus far. But it most certainly was not a fulfilling sneeze, as he resurfaced, looking dazed and unsatisfied. And still completely and utterly miserable. Well— as miserable as a robot could look, I guess.

“Apologies. Snf.* Jusd the fil’ders.” He sounded the part, as well.

“Twenty, come on. Let’s just suck it up and call it a day. I don’t want you damaging something just because you’re deciding to be stubborn about it.”

“I’b dot ‘dabagi’g’ adythi’g.”

“Dude, listen to yourself. Why does your voice sound like that if you’re just fine?”

“Firsd of all, do’t call be ‘dude’.” He sniffed thickly, putting a knuckle to his septum. “Seco’d of all, by fil’ders are probably full. Id happeds sobetibes.” He sniffed again.

“You sound like shit, man, and it sounds like it’s really uncomfortable. Come on.”

“Ex’guse be? Absoludely dot, we caddot jusd eh-eh’d our search here!”

“We can come back tomorrow! It literally does not matter.”

Twenty stood up from his seat, placing his hands firmly on the table as he glared at me.

“I a’b your superior in this case. A’d I—“

…But doing so had caused the book he’d been reading— a thick, heavy novel— to snap shut again, the pages ruffling until it slammed closed. Sending up a very large plume of dust into the air.

“A—A’d I— I…” I could see his eyes fluttering shut as the irritant hit, the urgency quickly growing on his face.

“I— I— aAh’DSHU’H!” He doubled over with the first true sneeze I’d heard from him, and I had to admit, it was… wow. Just wow. Not too intense, but just desperate enough to let me know that the dust really had been teasing him this whole time.

Um— anyway. Unprofessional thoughts about my new robot companion aside—

It was accompanied with a sound I could only compare to decompression as the vents at the side of his neck sent jets of air out, along with a good amount of dust. Jesus, we’d been here way too long.

“Hh’HASHU’H! Hh— H��dCHU’H!” He was showing no signs of stopping, which could not have been a good sign. I’d be flayed alive by my superiors if I broke an android.

So I finally snapped out of it enough to take him by the shoulders and begin steering him towards the exit. Every time he sneezed, his shoulders shuddered forcefully underneath my hands, but I didn’t let go. I wrinkled my nose at the dusty air being expelled from the vents at his neck— from where I was positioned, it hit me right in the face. Lucky I wasn’t allergic to dust, or neither of us would be getting out of here any soon.

“Hh— Heh— heH’DSHU’H! HAH’CHU’H! Gghh… hh— hhHh—“

“What in tarnation is goin’ on down there!?” 

I heard heavy footsteps start down the stairs, and I winced.

“HhHH’KSHU’Uh!”

“Lieutenant Hickman!”

I tensed.

“I thought I told you to be more careful with that android! Did you even read the book!?”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Then why—“

“I-Ihh— It’s my fault, Cahh—CaptainnN— HE’ASHU’hh!”

Captain Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

“L—Lieutena—ahhnt Hh—Hh-Hihckman—“

Okay. Yeah, that was my name. I could have died right there. 

“Take a moment, detective.”

“AASHU’H! HhhAH’SHU’h!”

Oh, good god, he just wasn’t going to stop, was he?

“Hickman ss—Said to cah—cahhhll off th— theE’H’ECHU’H!”

I could see what he was trying to say, and despite how uh.. distracting he was in this moment, I took pity on him.

“…I tried to call off the search midway through, ma’am. Twenty insisted he’d be okay, and only let me lead him out when he was sn— er…” I had to remember the technical term for it, didn’t I? “…In the process of purging harmful substances?” I made a gesture to the vents, wincing as he sneezed again. The dust was getting thinner, which seemed good.

Twenty nodded at what I was saying.

“Aha. I see you did read the manual, Hickman.”

I gave her a nervous smile.

“Well done. And 20.3?” 

He opened his mouth to respond, but another sneeze cut him off. 

“Be more careful. Don’t want to have to bring you in for servicing, y’hear?” 

“Yhh—Yehhhs, Cah—aH—“

He couldn’t even get through a two-word sentence.

“HhH’ADSHU’H! TCHU’H!”

“Easy, detective.” Captain Gibbs said. “I’ll send down some human officers so you two can get a break. Ones without sensitivities.”

Twenty put a knuckle to the bottom of his nose, and nodded. I wondered if it helped stave off the irritation at all— in any definition of the word— but I could see the squint in his eyes and the twitch of his nose still. 

“Take a rest, both of you. I’ll have a different case ready when 20.3 has recovered.” Captain Gibbs nodded at the both of us, and then headed back up the stairs.

We were both silent for a moment, but the quiet was broken by a quick intake of breath from Twenty.

“HH’SHU’H!”

He sniffled— actually sniffled— before putting his knuckle back up to his nose, scowling deeply.

“This is completely unnecessary.” He muttered. I begged to differ, but I didn’t say it out loud.

“Do you wanna go somewhere that’s less…” I made a vague gesture to our surroundings, where the dust still floated in the air— though it was dispersing.

“Dhh— Dhhusty?” Even saying the word seemed to trigger something in him, and he nodded. “Yes. L—Let’s.”

[chevelleneech]

As delusional as they are, it’s kind of interesting watching Tkkrs construct their version of events in real time.

I’m usually working when an episode of AYS airs, so I always see their take on things hours later, and after already having seen other people’s opinions. But to be one of the people who watched it a little earlier, so I saw the scenes before seeing anyone else’s opinions, I can genuinely say, it’s honestly almost fascinating to watch them squirm.

People can think whatever they want about JM and JK and their bond, but to see Tkkrs go from “Jimin was the third wheel!” as they cropped him out of stills or as they claimed Tkk were cuddled up despite it being a quick photo, last week to seeing how they are almost completely ignoring the show this week is wildly funny.

The Jikook tag on Twitter is currently a lot of “Jokers will always be Tae’s number one fan!” “Jokers can’t keep Tae’s name out their mouth!” “Even after all their so-called moments, Jokers only care about Tae!” even though there aren’t actually a lot of Tae centered posts coming from Jikookers. And when they’re not trying to claim Jikookers are for whatever reason focused on Tae, they’re saying all the Jikook moments that happened this episode don’t matter, because Tae and JK went on a trip without cameras, while Jimin and Jungkook said in episode one they hadn’t seen each other in a bit.

I don’t know. It just really interests me how they are so comfortable and so confident in how they decide what matters and what doesn’t, and how they twist whatever else is left to be in their favor. Are You Sure? was scripted bullshit for a year, plus the first two episodes. Episode three was proof JK actually wanted Tae, and Jimin was the tagalong. Now episode 4 is irrelevant because Tkk went on a trip last year or whenever, without filming it.

Their reasoning is so extremely unreasonable, lol. Because why watch a show you know revolves around two members you hate seeing interact? At the same time though, them watching the show and being so angry at JM and JK and Jikookers tells me they really do understand where plenty of Jikookers are coming from.

Not shipping Jikook is fine. Disliking the idea that Jikook are together is fine, but it doesn’t make them any less questionable, and I think people who are watching the show are realizing that more and more.

Jimin and Jungkook went from being attached at the hip during the duration of the group being active. When they paused to enlist, JM and JK, in their own words, drifted. Again in their own words, JM and JK realized they weren’t seeing each other often and decided to rectify that by blocking out a long weekend to go on vacation with just the two of them, and chose to document it. Upon having fun, they decided to extend their filming and vacation in more places, again, just the two of them. Once the show was complete, JM and JK did not then go back their separate ways. They enlisted in the military as a collective unit. A choice they made prior to their vacationing being done.

The entire existence of AYS is honestly just a reminder of how much the two of them value their relationship, whatever it may be. Episodes 1, 2, and 4 specifically. They show how much they enjoy being in each other's space, and how much they click with one another, even though they have close and loving relationships with the other members.

So seeing Tkkrs seemingly come to genuinely understand that, yet hate it, is quite a thing to witness. None of us know the status of JM and JK’s relationship, and we honesty don’t need to. But to watch Tkkrs realize it is fully not at all what they want it to be (as in, Jungkook hates Jimin and Tae is the person he prefers to be with) is something to behold. Because no matter how angry they get, what new scenarios they create, or how much they ignore, the reality is what it is.

Jimin and Jungkook want to be around each other, and they enjoy being around each other. They make each other laugh and smile, and people who watch them together in their actual lives, all agree that they click. I would say I hope Tkkrs come around someday, but I think it’s too late. They’ve made up their minds and will never see the joy JM and JK bring each other, because they’ve built an entirely different world in their heads about what’s going on

[mycoolwritingcorner]

Sailor Moon: Reignstorm - Chapter 7: The Four Queens of Heaven

Ami awoke to the sound of her communicator going off. She reached over to the side of the bed where she had set it the night prior and flipped it open to answer the call.

“Hmzwha?” The bluenette answered groggily.

“Ami? Ami are you there?” Minako asked over the communicator.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here.” Ami said, rubbing her eyes.

“Hmmm… What is it?” Makoto asked, waking up next to Ami.

“Wait a second… Are you in bed with Mako?!” Minako asked, surprised, causing both girls to turn bright red, “Ami, you sly dog.”

“Wait, no! I mean, I am, but it’s not… ANYWAY WHY ARE YOU CALLING?” Ami asked, clearly flustered.

“Oh, right, right, well I can’t get a hold of any of the Outers so we’re all gonna head over to their place to see what’s up. Think you lovebirds can get yourselves out of bed and meet us at their front gate in an hour?”

“Uh, yeah, we’ll be there soon.” Ami said, still blushing profusely.

“Awesome. Venus out.” The blonde-haired girl said before Ami closed her communicator and laid her head back down on the pillow.

“We’re gonna be hearing about this for a while, aren’t we?” Ami asked.

“Oh, definitely.”

…

Before long, the five had gathered by the front gate of the house which the Outers shared. Usagi couldn’t help but be amazed by just how big and nice it was, despite having seen it many times in the past. As they approached the front door, Usagi couldn’t help but feel a pit form in her stomach. It was already suspicious that the Outer Guardians hadn’t made an effort to contact them after the scene in the city yesterday had been widely reported on, but now they weren’t answering their communicators?

“They’re probably just busy, that’s all.” Usagi tried to convince herself as she went to ring the doorbell, “Yeah… yeah, I’m sure everything’s-”

“Usagi look out!” She heard Rei cry from behind her before ripping her away from the door.

A mere split second afterward, the front of the house exploded, flinging the five guardians back onto the front lawn.

“What… What was that?” Mina asked between coughing fits, no doubt caused by all the smoke. 

From that smoke, the girls saw four figures walking towards them. They were unable to make out any features at first, but as the figures moved closer they could see more and more.

The first detail which the Guardians could see was that the figures were wearing uniforms nearly identical to those worn by the Four Kings of Heaven. Enemies the Sailor Guardians had defeated years prior.

Above them, they saw Reign suddenly appear in a flash of dark energy, their cloak billowing in the newly created wind, “Why hello there, Sailor Guardians. Sorry I’m a bit late to the party, but I believe you’re all already acquainted?” They said, gesturing towards the figures. As they did so the last of the smoke cleared, and the girls could finally make out their faces, horrified by what they were seeing.

It was their friends. 

Haruka. 

Michiru. 

Setsuna. 

Hotaru.

“Allow me to introduce… my FOUR QUEENS OF HEAVEN!”

“What have you done to them?!” Usagi asked angrily, pulling out her compact.

“How about you come up here and find out?” Reign taunted.

“Don’t do it Usagi, they’re baiting-” Mina advised her friend, to no avail.

“Moon Spectrum Power! MAKE UP!” Usagi shouted, transforming and launching herself at Reign and tackling them through the air.

“Dammit, alright everyone, transform!”

“Mercury Crystal Power!”

“Mars Crystal Power!

“Jupiter Crystal Power!”

“Venus Crystal Power!”

“MAKE UP!”

The Inners ran towards their friends, hoping to be able to reason with them, but the Queens of Heaven split off and each focused on one of the Inners. Haruka began to attack Jupiter at close range, Michiru launched her water attacks towards Mercury, Setsuna swatted at Mars with her rod and Hotaru launched energy attacks towards Venus. 

“Haruka, stop, don’t do this!” Jupiter pleaded while dodging the older girl’s attacks.

“Heh, that’s just like you.” Haruka said, “The little weakling is afraid to fight back! World Shaking!” She cried out, launching her attack at Jupiter which sent her flying across the battlefield.

“Jupiter!” Mercury cried, taking her attention away from Michiru, leaving her open to being struck by a beam from Michiru’s mirror, “Gah!”

“That was always your problem, wasn’t it? So scatterbrained. Never able to focus on what needed to be done!” Michiru said, conjuring a ball of water and energy in her hands, “Deep Submerge!”

Mercury was struck by several tons of water, which knocked her back onto the lawn.

“Setsuna, please, this isn’t you!” Mars shouted as she attempted to dodge the Guardian of Time’s attacks.

“Oh please, don’t act like you know the first thing about me.” Setsuna replied bitterly, “Dead Scream.” She said, launching her attack towards Mars, knocking her into a tree in the front yard.

“Hotaru, please! Don’t make me hurt you!” Venus cried, standing off against the younger girl.

“Hurt me?” Hotaru said before slamming down the butt of her Silence Glaive with a smirk, “That’s cute. Silence Wall!” She shouted, sending a large wall of energy hurtling toward Venus and knocking her all the way back to the gate on the outskirts of the premises. 

“Venus!” Mars cried, while still struggling against Setsuna.

Sailor Moon finally managed to force Reign to the ground, as the two tumbled into the ruins of what used to be the Outers’ home.

“You…” Usagi said, standing up and beginning to make her way toward her cloaked adversary, who was still kneeled down onto the ground.

“I don’t know what sick spell you have my friends under, but you’d better let them go right now before I-” Was all the Guardian could manage to say before she saw a gray and crimson figure dash towards her out of the corner of her eye and blast her into one of the still standing walls of the house.

“Oh, that’s right.” Reign said, standing up and dusting themselves off, “There was one more I forgot to introduce. Sailor Moon, meet… SAILOR CHAOS!”

They wore an outfit similar to the first iteration of Usagi’s own. However rather than white, the majority of the outfit was an ashy gray, with dark crimson on the skirt and boots. The outfit, however, was the least of Usagi’s concerns. A wave of horror washed over her as she looked up at the face of her new assailant.

“Naru?!”

----

Dun Dun DUUUUUUUN.

At long last, we have returned to our regularly scheduled programming, with a chapter full of twists and turns.

Again, I’m still not the best when it comes to writing combat, but hopefully it was alright.

But what’s going on? Why have the Outers aligned themselves with the new enemy? And how is Naru a Sailor Guardian?!

Well, to find out all that and more, I suppose you’ll just have to come back for Chapter 8: Naru: Sailor Chaos.

But until then, let me know what you all think! Comments, reblogs, likes, etc. are much appreciated!

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[anonquack]

| His Merch |

Alex Quackity x Reader, Oneshot!

Word Count: 4256

Warnings: None, just some curse words. Fluff :]

Summary: Being such good friends with Quackity leads to the inevitable; catching feelings. In fear of ruining your friendship with him, you kept quiet about your feelings. Although usually good at that, after a merch drop and a slip-up on stream, you prepare yourself for the worst. Queue the incoming call from Quackity himself.

Today had been a productive day, in your opinion. You'd woken up earlier than usual, ate breakfast, cleaned around your apartment, and managed to get started on editing a video you'd recently filmed.

That's why you considered yourself very deserving of sitting down and enjoying your friend's stream as you ate some snacks.

Quackity had a fun stream planned, and had hyped up a 'big announcement' on Twitter, and the whole timeline was already speculating what it could be as they awaited for Quackity to start stream.

Being his friend had some perks though, contrary to popular belief. He'd discussed with you what the big announcement was as you sat on call with him a few nights prior to the big day. It was merch, and according to your past experience with Planet Duck products, it was sure to be soft and super comfy. You were very much looking forward to getting your hands on some of his new merch.

He'd brought up sending some to you, one of the previously mentioned perks of being his friend, but you politely declined. Much to his surprise. He'd asked why and you'd simply stated that "It was fine," and perhaps it came off as a bit rude. A 'no thanks' to his merch that you hadn't even seen.

But you had plans of your own, you wanted to acquire said merch on your own, and support him financially in the process. He didn't have to know that though, so with a small 'Oh' from him as his response, you swiftly changed topic of conversation.

Now here you sat, watching the stream as Quackity explained what he'd be doing with his friend John Smith. Riding go-karts around what looked like a storage unit. You couldn't help but worry as you watched them zoom around, occasionally getting close to crashing, and eventually doing just that.

The stream itself was rather fun to watch, but you kept your debit card beside you. This was in case he decided to drop the merch announcement out of nowhere. And that was exactly what he did. Another perk of being his friend was you grew a 6th sense for these type of things. Always had a feeling for what was about to happen when it came to Quackity.

You watched as the chat freaked out, watched as the notification from Planet Duck went out, notifying everybody that the merch had been released. You quickly typed into your computer, and the internet seemed to be taking its time to redirect you to Quackity's merch site.

After some time, it finally loaded and you began to look at all the options. The merch was wonderful, Quackity had been hyping it up to you (you'd asked for no reveals, wanting to wait like everyone else) and he had been absolutely right.

Most of the designs were new, except for the iconic Planet Duck logo, and were all very cute. You had Quackity's stream playing in the background as you maneuvered your way around the site, finally deciding on which merch you'd be buying.

As you went to purchase, a red sign alerted you that there was no shipping to your location. To which you quickly raised an eyebrow, panic starting to rush through you. Maybe you should've accepted his offer.

After refreshing multiple times and watching the Twitter timeline freak out as well over the inability to ship to several locations, it finally seemed to work, and the payment finally went through. A big "Thank you for your purchase" appearing onto the screen.

You let out a sigh of relief, clicking back onto the tab where the stream was, a small smile on your face. You'd actually managed to get it on your own. It was nerve-racking, when it seemed like you wouldn't be able to get the shipping to work, when it seemed like it'd sell out before you had the chance to buy some.

Now you finally understood what it felt like, the stress of getting your hands on merch before it sold out. It'd been an exhilerating experience.

You relaxed into your seat as Quackity's laugh filled the room. He was recreating bits from Fast and Furious, and zooming all over the place. You watched with a fond smile as he drove around, throwing random Spanish profanities at John Smith here and there.

The funky heart glasses he had on did nothing to ease the warmth that was spreading through your chest at the sight of him. You were suffering due to your confusing feelings towards your close friend, but nobody knew, or at least that is what you told yourself.

You tried to focus on something else, something that wasn't solely him. The go-karts were going pretty fast, and you remembered the scene they were recreating from the movie. Whichever random thought came to mind, you'd focus on it instead, too scared to let your thoughts wander elsewhere.

When it came to and end, you were conflicted. You were glad your heart would be able to catch a break, but you also missed him almost immediately. Sickening, really.

You took some time to reflect on what you'd done so far. Cleaned, ate your meals, worked on some editing, got some Quackity merch, and enjoyed a fun stream. It was rather productive, to say the least.

But there was still some time left in the day, and you figured you'd put the energy coursing through your body to use.

Taking a seat at your desk, you turned your monitor on before opening the twitch app. An alt stream would be perfect right now. After going live and sending out a tweet letting your followers know you were live, you patiently waited for the viewers to start coming in.

Considering this was an alt stream, you figured you'd play some random game and just chat for a bit before heading to bed. As the viewers came in, you gave your greetings before opening a tab for roblox, getting on a random server to play an obby game as you talked to chat.

There was a content smile on your face as you asked chat how their day had been, how they were feeling, your little character jumping around and passing through the beginner levels on the obby game.

"I'm actually in a really good mood, chat. My day has been going so well." You began, glancing at chat here and there, smile growing at the memory of the adventures acquiring Quackity merch.

After the chat was flooded with questions asking about what had happened, you indulged. "I was watching Quackity's stream earlier today, and it was so much fun!" The smile grew before softening as you focused on the obby. "I was also able to get some of his new merch."

The chat erupted into bits of 'friends supporting friends' to 'y/n in quackity merch???' and people yelling that they had been or weren't able to get merch.

Seeing the chat made you laugh, nodding your head a bit. "No because I was so nervous I wouldn't be able to get some-" you admitted, attention now focused solely on telling the viewers about your own experience.

"I was trying to purchase, and there was a line, and then it said it wouldn't ship to my location?? I was so worried I wouldn't be able to get some. But it finally worked. I'm excited for it to get here." You finished your small rant, a content smile on your lips.

Chat consisted of people agreeing with the technical difficulties occurring at the time of the merch drop, others saying they were too broke to buy anything. It felt nice, to see something from their perspective and also have shared an experience like this.

"Big Q actually offered to send me some, but I told him no because I wanted to get it myself.. Wanted to get it fair and square." You said as you refocused on the obby in front of you, fond smile on your face as you thought about how nice he was. He was willing to send all of his friends some of his merch, free of cost.

"Also wanted to give him my support by actually purchasing it, you know?" You added, resting your chin on the palm of your hand as it leaned against your desk. You took this time to read chat, which was exploding with what you thought was a combination of Quackity's username with yours, and 'bffs ur honor!!'.

You smiled at that, hands finally moving your character around. "Really, he has been such an amazing friend, extremely welcoming, always fun to be around. And just.. life is never dull when he's around. He's always been there for me when I needed it and well‐" A pause. "I'm glad I was able to support him in some way." You hummed softly as you finished up yet another small rant about Quackity.

At the realization that you'd been talking about him for far too long, and that he was not meant to be the focus of your alt stream, you cleared your throat and began focusing on the obby game once again.

You shifted the topic of conversation to the video you'd also been editing today, and that quickly took everyone's attention away from how affectionately and fondly you'd been speaking of your dear friend. Everyone was now excited about the new video.

Seeing how easily the chat's focus changed made you ease up a bit, and you were able to enjoy the rest of your stream playing random roblox games and discussing some stuff with chat. It lasted for a bit longer before you finally decided to end stream.

Some goodbyes and after stream officially ended, you found yourself on Twitter. Everything seemed pretty peaceful on the timeline, up until the trending page came up.

Your name was trending, along with 'QUACKITY IN CHAT' and the infamous combination of usernames. A monstrosity, really.

You heard yourself audibly gulp as you clicked on the trending topic 'quackity in chat'. Much to your dismay it was true. There was screenshots that showed Quackity was watching your stream. That meant that he'd heard you talking about him in that sickening tone. That tone that was unnecessarily sweet and fond.

You didn't know who was freaking out more, the so-called shippers, the timeline, or yourself. You gently bit at the inside of your cheek, scrolling and reading all the tweets of people trying to guess how Quackity must've felt while hearing all that. Others raising an eyebrow at how long you'd gone on about Quackity and how 'perfect' he was.

You'd fucked up, that was for sure, and it wasn't even intentional or fan service of any kind. It was an alt stream, it wasn't planned in any way, shape, or form. He'd been brought up, and you'd accidentally spilled all fond thoughts you held of him.

Your cursor hovered over a specific tweet that read, 'want someone to talk about me the way y/n talks about big q'. It was sweet, and perhaps made you smile just a little bit.

As you read it over in your head, a notification popped up on your screen, the discord notification ringing in your ears as you read who the message was from. Quackity.

You messed around with your mouse for a bit before finally closing the Twitter tab, and instead opting to open the unread message.

Quackity

hey (:

You stared at it for a bit, blinking in disbelief at how normal the message came across. Perhaps he'd tuned in during the last half of the stream. Perhaps he hadn't been able to watch while you rambled about him, and perhaps he hadn't been on Twitter either. One could hope.

y/n hi (:

It showed that he was typing almost immediately after, and you tried your best to calm your nerves.

Quackity call?

You felt yourself tense at the message. Maybe he wanted to let you down kindly. 'Hey! Saw your stream, and I just wanted to ask if you could chill the fuck out. That was kind of creepy. Maybe never speak of me ever again. Do not perceive me any longer, thanks!'

Something along those lines for sure. That's what probably awaited you if you said yes to this. But what exactly were you supposed to do instead?

y/n ofc

It only took a few seconds for the call to come through. Stalling wouldn't help, so you answered by the third ring.

He greeted you, and everything seemed normal. The calls were normal between you two, but you were just on edge due to twitter trending and the stream that took place less than an hour ago.

"How are you feeling, Quackity?" You asked with a small smile, today was a big day for him, and you were sure he'd enjoy talking about how fast the merch sold.

"I'm doing great. Really happy that the fans liked the designs and just.. we sold a lot. I'm happy." He restated the last bit, the smile was obvious in his voice. You didn't have to be seeing it to know. Another perk of being so close to him. You had a clear visual image of what he probably looked like right now. Cute smile plastered onto his equally cute face.

"I'm really happy for you, Big Q. You deserve all the success that is coming your way and more." You hummed softly. Everything you were saying, you meant wholeheartedly. There was silence for a bit before he finally spoke again.

"I watched your stream."

Fuck. There it was. You should've expected it but it still hit like a ton of bricks. You felt your mouth turn dry, could barely manage to get out the word, "Yeah?"

"Mhm." Straight to the point. There was a bit of silence, you were unsure of what to say. Why had he brought it up? It was bound to happen, but what was the reason behind bringing it up? To tease you, let you know he wasn't interested, or because roblox obbies are just so much fun?

"You didn't have to buy it, you know?" He finally said, breaking the silence.

"I wanted to." You reassured, "the merch is really pretty. Worth every penny."

"I could've sent you whichever you wanted." He stated bluntly. As if it was weird of you to have gone and bought it on your own.

"Thank you, but I wanted to buy it myself. Let me? Please?" Let me show my support this way, is what you meant to say. It came out softer than intended, and you could feel your heart beating against your ribs. You really needed to watch your tone around him.

"Of course." He responded, just as softly. He'd drive you crazy one of these days. They'd have to lock you up, and you'd never see the light of day again.

"Did you have fun riding the go-karts?" You asked, a small smile on your lips as you wandered back onto the Twitter tab, a clip of his stream now on display on the timeline.

He let out a small laugh, "I did. Did you enjoy watching it?" You nodded before responding, "Of course. Was concerning watching you crash into walls though."

He hummed softly in response, possibly contemplating what to say with how long he took before he spoke again.

"Did you really mean all the things you said on stream?"

Somehow, even with your own attempts to change topic, the focus was back on your stream and the things that had been said. You wouldn't be able to dig yourself out of the hole you'd dug.

It was entirely your fault, for even allowing yourself to consider him as anything but a great friend. It was your fault for taking the late night calls, the sweet tones, and messages the wrong way. Your interpretations were all wrong and now you'd have to sit here and apologize for practically outing yourself on stream. For letting the whole world know that you had romantic feelings for a good friend of yours. You'd probably made him so uncomfortable.

You felt yourself cringe slightly at his words, already gone quiet for far too long. You had to speak up, even if it lead to a good friendship ending a few minutes from now.

"Of course I did. You're great, Alex." The use of his name was meant to assure him you meant it wholeheartedly. It made the moment feel more intimate, too. Much to your own dismay, yet again. You couldn't help it.

The possibility that your friendship with him could come to an end real soon made you act on your feelings. It left you unhinged. If it was all going to end here, maybe you'd allow yourself to act on impulse. End it with a bang.

"Thank you, really. I know I probably wasn't meant to hear all that, but it was really nice. Made me feel nice as well. And just, seeing that you didn't accept the merch from me because you wanted to support me directly.. thank you."

His voice was soft, felt like warm honey to your taste buds. You could almost hear your heart melting inside your chest, could feel it dripping down and touching your diaphragm, oozing into every single crevice in your body. You'd never understand how he had such effects on you. How he was able to make you so fond of him.

"I meant every single word. You deserve that and so much more." You reassured yet again, a small smile on your lips. You heard him let out a small chuckle, which made you laugh as well.

Moments later, he had turned his camera on, wanting to show you all the merch. You'd asked for him to put it on, since you were a 'visual learner' and had to see it on him in order to fully understand what it looked like. He had playfully rolled his eyes, but hadn't really argued against it.

So there you were, watching as he changed from hoodie to hoodie, moving out of frame to change into the shirts. You could feel your heart thumping harshly against your rib cage at the sight of him. Some looked bigger on him, some looked just right. They all looked wonderful, and super comfy. Perhaps that was simply because they were on him, and he looked so comfy.

He looked like he could give the best hugs.

"You really think so?" His voice came out a bit sheepish, and the light pink that dusted his cheeks was becoming more and more evident. Huh?

"What?" You said, a dumb look on your face as you tried connecting the dots.

"That I could give the best hugs." He stated slowly, as if he was testing how it sounded before adding, "Do you really think that?"

Had you really said that out loud? Fuck. It took acting on impulse to a whole other level. This wasn't something you two usually did, but I guess it was okay since everything might be ending soon. Ballsy moves.

"Yeah. You make the merch look so cozy." Your throat felt dry, eyes glued to his face, wanting to catch every single second of his reaction. Wanting to see each movement of his facial muscles, to find out what it could possibly entail. "Makes me wonder what your hugs feel like." You admitted.

Your eyes scanned the entirety of his face, perking up slightly at the sight of his face flushing, leaving him with the softest tint of pink to spread across his cheeks, almost matching his pretty lips. What the hell did that even mean?

"Maybe you won't have to wonder for too long. With guidelines being lifted and all." The line. Blurred at that very moment, for sure. His eyes were glued to you as well, which only made you hesitate every single movement you could think of doing at that moment.

"And in the meantime? What am I supposed to do?" Risky. Crossing lines, jumping over hurdles. This all had to be against friend rules or something. You could feel your sanity decreasing each second this call went on. But he wasn't stopping any of this either.

"I could send you a hoodie." The sentence brought you out of your Quackity-induced haze, making you quickly shake your head. What? Before you could protest or ask what the hell that was supposed to mean, he explained.

"My hoodie. Y'know. Mine. One I wear. You can give it back when we meet up, perhaps."

Your mouth went dry again, shocked at the domestic feeling it gave. He was suggesting he send one of his hoodies. It would smell like him. It was the closest thing to giving him an actual hug. It would be paradise.

"You'd really do that?" You asked, still in disbelief, but he quickly nodded his head. "Oh." You said softly, before a smile appeared on your face. "I would like that, then."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I'll send it then." He hummed, smile spreading on his lips as well. Everything going on was making you feel dizzy. It felt so surreal.

You'd mentally prepared yourself for the worst, but instead were met with a flirtatious Quackity. He'd said sweet things to you before, but you never allowed yourself to take it seriously, not wanting to get your hopes up. And it never went to this extent.

It seemed he realized what just went down, a loud laugh escaping his lips. "Holy shit. You're gonna have one of my hoodies soon."

"I am." You chimed in, smile on your lips as well.

"And you'll wear it around." He added.

"I will."

"You'll look good, as always."

You could feel the heat rush to your face. What was going on? Was this real, or just a very cruel dream? Alex Quackity was fucking flirting with you.

"Are you flirting with me?" Bewildered tone, raised eyebrows. Your brain couldn't even begin to progress what was being said.

"What the fuck does it look like I've been doing?"

"Have you really?" Warmth spread across your chest at how blunt he was being. The line was gone. It'd been erased, never to be seen again. There was no shame in him. Admitting he was flirting with his whole chest.

"I have. Why are you so surprised though? I've subtly flirted with you before.. and I mean, were you not confessing your undying love to me on stream?" He raised a brow, feigned confusion on his face. He was teasing. You let out a groan, covering your face with your hands as he let out a laugh.

Surreal. He confessed to having flirted with you in the past. So you weren't delusional, nice to know. "Are you done?" You asked, face still covered by your hand in shame.

"I saw a tweet that was saying they felt like third wheels since I was in chat, and you were just going on about everything you liked about me." You kept your face covered. He was not stopping. Now he was the unhinged one.

He was visibly scrolling through the timeline at this point. "Oh, and one saying they want what we have. What do we have?"

You finally uncovered your face. "I don't know. Whatever the fuck this is, I guess?"

"Well, what is this?"

"Mm... whatever you want it to be." You finally answered, and there was a surprised look plastered on his face at that.

"Whatever I want?"

"Yeah." You paused. Would he regret this after he got out of this haze? What if it had just been flirting for fun? But he wouldn't play with your feelings like this, would he?

Alex Quackity was perfect though, and perhaps he had a sixth sense about when stuff was wrong with you, because he caught on to your hesitation.

"Hey." He called out softly. The teasing, flirtatious tone was gone, now replaced by the softer tone reserved for late night calls, or when everybody else in the vc had left and it was just you two.

You look at where his face was on your monitor, relaxing a bit simply by his tone and the soft gaze he held on you.

"I know everything sort of progressed pretty fast tonight.. but your stream really helped me realize a few things. I do like you, y/n. Not fucking around or anything." He said it in a firm tone, one that told you he wasn't messing around, but still felt oh so intimate.

Everything he was saying was exactly what you wanted and needed to hear. Reassurance that your feelings weren't unrequited. You couldn't believe your rambling on stream had lead you guys here.

"I like you, too. If that wasn't obvious already." You mumbled out, eyes averting before glancing to see his reaction. He had the biggest, cutest, grin on his face. Charming, and extremely contagious. You couldn't help but smile back.

Holy shit.

"Is this real?" You asked out loud, smile never leaving your face.

"It is. All thanks to your ranting on stream. How cool is that?"

You couldn't help but still feel rather embarrassed that he'd heard all of it, but it had brought you two here. All embarrassment was worth it. Especially if it meant it opened up a whole new world of possibilities for you two.

"Very cool." You mumbled, before a smile appeared on your lips. Today really couldn't have gone any better.

[todoscript]

SEQUEL TO  “don’t forget it”

SYNOPSIS: One week after accidentally blowing you off on your date, Bakugou Katsuki seeks your forgiveness.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

genre: fluff, very little angst

word count: 5.4k+

warnings: none really accept maybe a character sustaining an injury

author’s note: hellooooo this is a very very very late part 2 of my don’t forget it drabble that many people asked for! i hope this lived up to your expectations and was worth the wait!

Since the events that led you to leave Bakugou’s room in a fit of bitterness after attempting to penetrate that thick head of his, he hadn’t been able to speak to you for a week.

It goes without saying he did his best to chase you down the hallway from his room and toward the elevator the moment he realized his faults. But at the stink eye you shot him through the minimizing slit of the elevator doors sliding into place, he knew he had no right to reconcile with you after pulling a stunt like that. Nor did he think you’d want to spare him any more words to begin with. It was clear you were done arguing with him.

“C’mon man, it’s probably best to let her cool down before you try to make up with her,” was the advice Kirishima offered when Bakugou returned to his room, disgruntled as he heavily fell back into his seat next to the desk. He did the bare minimum to acknowledge his friend’s words with a grunt before resuming tutoring the redhead, his method of teaching suddenly harsher than how it began thanks to his soured mood. He lapsed the day away by pounding Kirishima with problems upon problems against that hard noggin of his, both literally and figuratively.

At the very least, Kirishima earned himself a passing grade on their exam as a result of his hard work and their rigorous tutoring sessions. But what followed Bakugou’s and your relationship was still undetermined.

Days later and you were relentless in giving him the cold shoulder.

Bakugou was met with nothing but empty glances and blatant disinterest whenever he crossed your path. It felt like the wall you slotted between him grew another layer at each encounter, your defenses so impenetrable, it could give Kirishima’s quirk a run for its money. He couldn’t so much as utter a word in your direction without you effectively dodging every possible interaction in favor of joining another conversation nearby.

At first, Bakugou shrugged it off, calling your “childish attitude” unwarranted for something he thought was incredibly trivial. In his eyes, it was just an ordinary date at some run-of-the-mill restaurant he just happened to suggest to you because he took a liking to their spicy food. Not like it was some fancy dinner reservation serving caviar on dry toast beside a pretty, city night skyline. To him, it was nothing special.

However, as the week continued to roll by, it became clear to him how much he hurt you due to his selfishness. In a hangout with the Bakusquad, he learned that you apparently told Mina, along with the rest of the girls, everything during one of your girls’ nights. Which included the events prior to your heated argument in Bakugou’s dorm. And Mina, being just as peeved as you were at how Bakugou stood you up that day, had to let the blond know of the damage he’d done.

.

.

“I swear, Bakugou Katsuki, I know you can be an asshole sometimes—”

“Make that all the time,” Sero quietly adds in the middle of Mina’s rant while he lounges backward on Kaminari’s bed. If it wasn’t for his current dilemma, Bakugou would have elbowed him in the back of the head.

“—but this is crossing the line!” she finishes. Her arms are thrown exaggeratedly over her chest. The amber surrounded by the black scleras of her eyes points a beady look at the ash-blond crisscrossed on the floor between Kirishima and Kaminari.

“Poor girl sat there for hours waiting for you, only to find out she got blown off because you couldn’t even properly check your reminders!” She paces back and forth in the room, feet excessively stepping across the floor as she’s engulfed by the emotions she feels for her friend. “What’s worse? She comes back and finds out you’ve been doing your own thing with Kirishima the whole time!”

“Hey! It’s not like we were playing around! We were actually having a very serious study grind, thank you very much,” the redhead immediately clarifies. Though his explanation doesn’t alleviate Bakugou’s case in the slightest, who pounds his palms against the surface of the table they’ve gathered around.

“Look. I fucking get it, Ashido. I screwed up, okay?! Now what the fuck do you want me to do about it?!” he exclaims, anger overpowering his voice, but it does little to deter Mina.

“Fix it, obviously!” she quips back with equal fierceness, leaning in eye level with Bakugou.

“And how do you propose I do that, Raccoon Eyes? Hah?” Repositioning his elbow to rest on the table, he leans his cheek against his hand. “Y/n won’t even let me within five fucking feet in front of her and you still expect me ‘fix this’?”

Despite the situation weighing heavily on his shoulders, no immediate answer is bestowed upon him. That is, except the obnoxiously loud crinkle of a chip bag popping open next to Bakugou that cleaves into the scene like a record scratch. As if unable to read the mood in his own room, Kaminari fishes a chip to throw in his mouth, stirring the awkward silence into tension.

“Wow, Bakugou. I know you’re bad with girls and all, but you really messed up this time,” he remarks. His voice is slightly muffled as he munches his chips, continuing to wrinkle the bag for more. It incites a vein to swell on Bakugou’s forehead. He amasses all the willpower within him not to blast the bag of chips to ash, and the boy alongside it.

“If you dunce faces are just gonna sit here and throw salt in my wound then I’m outta here.”

“No, wait!” Kirishima catches Bakugou’s wrist before he fully lifts himself off the floor. “Come on, Bakugou, I’m sure we can think of something! We just need to put our heads together! Right, guys?” he assures. Finding it hard to deny his friend’s hardened conviction, Bakugou gives Kirishima the benefit of the doubt, albeit with slumped shoulders and a tentative raise of his brow as he slowly sits back down.

“Right! Everyone, let’s get some brainstorming done!” Mina yells encouragingly.

The atmosphere of Kaminari’s room is consumed by moderately thoughtful silence for the next ensuing minutes. A few hums pass, followed by an exchange of contemplative looks as four of the five rack their heads together to uncover a solution. The one in need of help only hunches in his seat, waiting with mild disinterest.

“Oh hey, don’t we have hero training with All Might tomorrow?” Sero is the first to comment, scooting to the edge of the blond’s bed.

“Yeah. So?”

“He said we were going to work on group exercises this time around. You know, teamwork and stuff,” he explains further.

At that, Mina snaps her fingers, the work of a brilliant idea flickering in her head. “Sero, that’s it! Tomorrow, during training, we’ll just form a group together with Y/n! After all, she’ll have to talk to Bakugou if you two are on the same team!” She claps her hands in front of her, her enthusiasm rippling through her body and shown energetically with each raise of her voice. “Then, while the rest of us ‘split up’ to cover more ground, that will be your chance to make everything better with Y/n! It’s genius!”

“You missed one fucking crucial detail, Pinky,” Bakugou gruffs. “That will only work if Y/n doesn’t join another group. The moment she sees I’m on yours, she’s not even going to hesitate making a u-turn.”

“Worry not~ I’ll just text all the girls except Y/n about the plan later and ask them to help sort everyone out!” She solves the problem with relative ease—quick as a click of her phone lighting up and finger sliding open to her messages.

“Uh, another thing though.” Kirishima raises his hand to spare his concern. “All Might says we’ll be splitting into groups of five at most, but there’s already five of us here.”

There’s a brief moment of deadpanning until Mina speaks casually. “Oh, that’s right. Kaminari. Take one for the team and make sure to join another group, ‘kay?” She settles without batting a lash.

Kaminari almost chokes on a mouthful of chips. “H-Huh?! What?! Why me?!!” he sputters.

“Because you’ve been eating chips this entire time and haven’t contributed to anything.”

“Hey, I offered the room, didn’t I?!” He tries justifying but is inevitably rejected by Mina’s wagging finger.

“Ah-ah, no complaints! Besides, it’s only one day of training. If we want this dilemma between Bakugou and Y/n fixed then we all have to play our part, got it?” Mina finalizes with a firm point of her finger nearly grazing the tip of the blond’s nose as he leans back to avoid it, eyebrows scrunched in discontent at the role he’s been reduced to.

“Alllllright!” Kirishima springs from his seat with outstretched arms and tightened fists. “Operation: Get Y/n to Forgive Explosion Boy is underway!”

“Dude, that’s a terrible name!” Sero laughs but rises from the bed to join the redhead’s cheer alongside Mina, the group already in high spirits.

Despite rolling his eyes at their swell of confidence, Bakugou does not object to the state of things. As crazy as it sounds, one could almost decipher the cusp of a grin pulling the seams of his lips as a possible sign he’s actually all for this extravagant little plan. Quite a first for Bakugou, but then again, there’s not much else he can do in this situation except rely on his pack of chumps.

Meanwhile, Kaminari grumbles something beneath the salty grit between his teeth.

“Alright, can you all get out of my room now?”

.

.

The scowl etched on your face carries a strong air of disdain that dampens the mood around your teammates considerably. Well, no one should be surprised. With Bakugou standing across from you, staring into the void of your expression, it’s to be expected that you wouldn’t be happy with this outcome.

No, “unhappy” doesn’t quite do your circumstance justice. You are beyond livid.

You feel your eyebrow twitch as you try quivering your lips to form a tinge of a smile. Unfortunately, all that quickly falls apart when you suddenly recall the disaster of last week, triggered by an accidental glance at Bakugou’s mug.

Trying to simmer down, you release a mental sigh amidst the turmoil boiling inside you.

Okay, maybe you’re over-exaggerating. Maybe you’re still just a bit too bitter for your own good and letting your emotions get to you. But in a class of twenty or some students, how did you end up in a group with the one person you were actively trying to avoid?

The moment All Might gave everyone the go-ahead to form their teams for today’s training exercise, you swiftly made a beeline toward two particular star students. Midoriya and Todoroki.

It was simple really. Your experiences throughout the school year told you Bakugou planned on staying away from his rivals when it came to teamwork, regardless of whether you’re there or not. He’s a competitive ass whose goal is to beat anyone he deems a threat in his climb to be the number one hero. It’s only logical you partner with people he adamantly dislikes to evade him.

Yet it seems fate has other plans for you today. By the time you found yourself pacing over to the two students you had in mind, they’d already gone and picked their own group members, forming teams before you could even ask.

Your nose wrinkles like you’ve taken a whiff of something rancid. Or, to be more specific, something fishy. Hooking an arm around Mina’s elbow, you drag the pink-haired girl off to a corner somewhere while tilting your head back at the three other boys.

“Ex. Cuse. Us.” Your words sound as stiff as cardboard. It comes out in practically a hiss when your eyes cross Bakugou. Once you’re positive you’re out of earshot, you whip your head at Mina.

“Mina, what the hell? When you dragged me over here to form a group with you you didn’t tell me he’d be there,” you groan. Childish and petty as you may sound, you just couldn’t fathom the idea of confronting the boy so soon.

Mina holds her hands out, ready to rationalize the whole ordeal. “C’mon Y/n, this is actually an advantage for us! With us four plus you on our team, we’re sure to knock the rest of the other guys out during training today! I mean we showed pretty good teamwork together at the sports festival, didn’t we?”

Steadying your gaze, you hold a finger below your chin as you slowly buy into the explanation. The reasoning is there. It’s hard to argue against a case like that, fully aware that being on the same team as explosion boy will easily snag good results for you and your party. ‘Cause as much of an arrogant jerk as he is, you have to admit Bakugou Katsuki knows his way around hero action like the back of his grenade gauntlets.

“Besides it’s not like you could avoid him for the entire school year. I mean, you two are in the same class. It was only a matter of time before you had to—”

“I know, Mina,” you interject, not wanting the rest of her sentence about the inevitable fall to your ear. “I just… Agh, you know what I mean!” You ruffle your hands through your hair in confliction, unsure how to piece your thoughts together.

Tilting your head over Mina’s shoulder, you sneak a glimpse at Bakugou, watching him as he’s cast to the side with the others. He’s fending himself from Kirishima and Sero’s combined jokes, that usual look on his face sending glares at the two and yelling something you could almost pick up on if you honed your ears a bit more. Surprisingly, when his eyes meet yours for a split second, he stands there looking nonchalant again. Both of you immediately avert your gazes.

Mina pats your shoulder, bringing you back to the conversation at hand. “I know, I know, but after this, I’m sure you can go back to ignoring his ass. After all, it’s just one training exercise, right?” she says. As her words deliver some relief to your ill-timed situation, you give in with a sigh.

Unbeknownst to you, turning your back to Mina and striding toward the rest of your teammates again, you miss the small glint in her yellow eyes, along with the subtle gestures she aims at the three boys, waving her pointed thumbs over your head secretively.

“So I take it you’re on the team with us, Y/n?” Sero asks when the two of you return. You nod in reply and the boy flashes his pearly whites in a wide grin that Kirishima mirrors. He nudges Bakugou at his sides which you subtly catch in the far corner of your eye.

You raise a brow suspiciously at their fidgeting, wondering why having you on their team warrants such enthusiasm, but you’re thankful for their energy at least. Someone has to lift the atmosphere for this not to be a complete drag and Bakugou surely isn’t going to be the mood maker of the group.

The blond scoffs. “Yeah, well, if you dumbasses are going to form a team with me, you’ll follow under my leadership, got it?”

The three readily agree. Though you roll your eyes, you don’t challenge his position, considering no one else is that much up to the task as he is. You’ll simply have to deal with the fact that you’re forced to tread through the day under his leadership. So with no objections, the five of you walk back to the class, gathering around the entrance of today’s battlefield.

Jumping into the activity, All Might goes about explaining today’s lesson to the four sets of teams—consisting of a group exercise to heighten teamwork. The name of the game? Capture the flag.

In short, each team will be split off into different sections of the labyrinth where their assigned flag is stationed. The objective is to not only protect your flag from being stolen but also try and steal an opposing team’s flag from their base and escort it safely to your home field. Nice and simple.

Not long after All Might’s explanation, the gate to the training grounds opens and you all scatter off into your teams, navigating through the twists of the maze to locate your flags. Once your group situated themselves onto your home base, you assemble in a huddle to devise a strategy before the game starts.

“So what’s the plan?” Kirishima asks, eyes darting around his teammates until they rest on Bakugou—the team leader. The ash-blond crosses his arms, a confident sneer plastered on his face as he’s already thought of his plan of action the moment All Might announced the mission.

“Easy. I’m going straight to the front-lines to swipe one of those dumbasses’ flags. You lot are gonna stay here and guard ours until I come back.” He delivers the strategy in a matter-of-fact tone that you quickly don’t take a liking to. Your fist curls in irritation.

“What kind of a plan is that?” you question audaciously, your voice louder than you intended. “So you’re just going to do all the work while we sit around and wait for you?”

Bakugou grits his teeth, leaning further into the huddle to direct his senseless logic. “Look, it’s the fastest and most surefire way to snag our victory without sacrificing anyone,” he says. Playing over his words again, he finds it surprising he even chooses to offer his reasoning. Because if it were anyone other than you he was arguing with, he’s certain he’d leave it at that.

Knowing the current tension between you was a result of his misjudgment, it feels only right for Bakugou to make an effort in communication. He ignores the antsy expressions belonging to the others who signal from behind you to follow along with their original plan.

You don’t seem to catch the hint, nor do you buy into his ridiculous strategy. “Oh, so you’re that confident you won’t get taken out by the other team then?” you quip. As a result, Bakugou’s brows tighten at your noncompliance.

“I know how to take care of myself. You of all people should realize by now that no other nerd in this whole damn class can outmatch me.”

“And what about an ambush? How do you know they simply won’t anticipate your strategy and see you coming?” You fire another counterargument and the boy purses his lips, beginning to find this quarrel spiraling into a headache rather than a step in the direction of reconciliation.

While Sero and Kirishima stand there, shifting their heads back and forth throughout the fiery exchange, Mina speedily reacts. The gears of that cunning mind of hers click into place again.

“You know what, Y/n’s right. Why don’t you two go together then?” she proposes boldly. Her suggestion catches you by complete surprise. You veer in her direction with an incredulous look blown in your eyes.

Before you can open your mouth to protest, the two boys standing beside her immediately back her up.

“Hm, Mina has a point. The chances of you falling into a trap wouldn’t be much if you two work together,” Sero remarks.

Kirishima follows, “Yeah, you guys can watch each other’s backs while going to collect the flag! It’s safer to go in a pair than by yourselves I’d say.”

The three seem adamant about the idea, sharing equally content expressions, and with all that said, you find it hard to dig yourself out of this situation. In a way, you practically volunteered yourself after questioning Bakugou’s plan and doubting his abilities. The group only feels it’s right you come along as his support since you clearly must be worried about his well-being.

Pushing your objections down your throat, you reluctantly agree to tag along with the blond. What you find exceptionally shocking is how Bakugou doesn’t oppose these new conditions. Given his hard-headed temperament, you thought he would’ve scoffed and turned his back at being paired without notice, but no such things were happening here.

...Odd.

“Tch, whatever. Let’s get going then,” is all he gives, starting in the direction into the urban area of the training course.

You trail behind him. “Coming, Boom-Boy…” you mutter the last bit but don’t suppress the urge to let your words be known. Bakugou turns his head and gives you a look akin to an uptight six-year-old you just offended at your local playground. You shrug in response, a corner of your lip pinched upward. He doesn’t pick a fight over the nickname, but his eyebrows remain fiercely slanted, and coupled with his heavy steps and the excessive swinging of his gauntlet-clad arms, it tells you of his emotional constipation plain as day.

.

.

The journey toward the other teams’ flags is cloaked in strained silence and the physical gap between you two does not encourage any of you to speak up. At this point, both of your levels of annoyance for each other have mellowed out. Now it just feels... awkward—strange. You don’t see his expression, nor does he see yours. It feels like you’re being left in the dark, having only the back of Bakugou’s head to stare at the entirety of the way, and though you supposedly have his back, Bakugou feels precarious in this state as he trudges along at the front, not daring to turn his head to cross your eyes.

The ambiance is reminiscent of the ancient Greek legend of Orpheus and Eurydice. Where Bakugou walks through the depths of the underworld, seeking you out in hopes you’d join his side once again. If he turns around now and spills his thoughts to you too soon, he fears that your forgiveness would be whisked away, thoroughly beyond his reach, and replaced with your promises of retribution.

That was the eloquent version of the situation anyway. To put it bluntly, Bakugou was just impatient as hell to say something to you. The silence suffocates him to the point where the words are nearly about to be squeezed out of his throat, but he bites his lip to snuff out the urges.

The more he keeps them in, the more fidgety he becomes, hands itchy and mouth trembling with grit between his teeth. The idea of not letting his voice be heard was something Bakugou detested. Mainly because it was already such a challenge to even keep his mouth shut, given his fiery attitude and lack of patience.

Man, what the hell am I hesitating for? he asks himself, that outspoken side of him spurring him on.

Ah, screw the uncertainty, he thinks. If he doesn’t say anything now, then he won’t get to say anything ever.

Bakugou stops in his tracks, turning his head. Here goes nothing,

“Hey, Y/n, I–”

“Katsuki–”

Words collide into each other, jumbled and incoherent, which take you two by surprise as you meet each other’s furrowed gazes. It’s quiet as you both piece your way through this, eyes trained like you haven’t seen each other in months when the reality is that a week of bitterness has somehow made you act like strangers. The bewildered look crossing his features is foreign to you; you’ve never quite seen Bakugou as taken aback as he is now.

“You first,” you grant before Bakugou could mix up your words again. Even being given permission, the blond still isn’t sure what to say, his thoughts lost on him the moment his voice clashed with yours. He takes a deep breath, calming his senses and steadying his mind for what he wants to convey.

“Look, Y/n, I don’t know how to put this as nicely as I can,” he begins, tone consistent yet wary, assessing your expression, “but I know I fucked up and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you there all by yourself. I shouldn’t… have blown you off like that and forgotten about you.” He delivers this bluntly—honestly—as open as a boy of his nature can muster with arms spread out, willingly exposing him to his faults and your reprisals.

Looking at you, he finds your eyes are cast to the floor, assuming to be reflecting on his words carefully. After some deliberation, you come across the vermillion in his eyes.

“Frankly, I haven’t entirely forgiven you just yet. But I will say that despite how I’ve been acting, I’m not as mad at you as you think,” is what you give, and Bakugou would be lying to himself if he didn’t achieve relief at your statement. He mentally releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding throughout the exchange. However, you aren’t done yet.

“I just want you to understand what moments like those mean to me. It’s during that time where I can share my feelings and learn more about you—understand who you are,” you say. Bakugou latches onto every word. “And it goes both ways, you know. It’s hard to want to stay in a relationship with someone who doesn’t make an effort to make time for you.” It’s obvious you aim that comment at him as Bakugou’s eyes soften slightly hearing it. His calloused, glove-clad hands wrap into his palms. Man, he really was a jerk.

“Still… I know you’re making an effort to be sincere and that you’re genuinely sorry for what happened, especially considering how the others seem to have set this whole conversation up, right?” Bakugou winces over the Bakusquad’s ploy coming to light and makes a note not to follow along next time unless those dummies can scrape up a more elaborate plan.

Despite that, he presses on, “So, what does this mean?” A smile settles on the curve of your lips, sensing his impatience as his voice hastens you along.

“Well…” you begin, speech drawn out in anticipation as you step toward him to where Bakugou follows your movements. That is until he catches a few shadowy figures shifting around atop the small building behind you. Before you can open your mouth to continue, his instincts flare to life.

“Hey, look out!” he exclaims, already acting on his warnings by lunging forward to push you out of the way. Your breaths draw back into your lungs, your body thrust abruptly into the opposite direction. Landing on your butt, you wince at both the shock and the pain, but your whines desist when you witness Bakugou taking a force to the head as a result of coming to your aid.

“Katsuki!” you yell, immediately getting off the ground to rush to his side, but he can’t find it in himself to respond. Afflicted with a substantial blow to the crown of his head, his whole being throbs and his vision spins.

Fuck, is Y/n, okay? is the first thing on his mind, ignoring the liquid trickling down his forehead. His question is answered upon turning his head to meet your anxious expression—your eyes wide and lips quivering as they move to say words he can’t exactly make out beneath the pounding sensations consuming his mind. As he feels a set of arms wrap around him, he tries discerning his surroundings to form a reply, but can only capture bits and pieces.

“—tsuki! ...old… n!”

“...god—! I’m so dead!”

A sputter of words tangling together is the last he hears before his vision fades to black.

.

.

The next time Bakugou awakes, his eyes slowly sever open to come face-to-face with a blurry white ceiling. The lights assault his vision as his senses take time to adjust, unraveling the environment to realize he’s laying on a bed—a hospital bed to be precise.

He attempts lifting himself but is met with retaliation in the form of his pulsating head which he immediately flinches at. His hand goes to rub his scalp to soothe the ache and he finds bandages wrapped tightly around him. “What the hell happened?” The last he remembers is traversing the urban area with you for the capture the flag mission before finally confronting the subject that had been plaguing your minds for a week now. After that, he caught sight of some object descending toward you and before he had even realized it, his feet had moved on their own. Next thing he knows, he’s waking up in the nurse’s office with a headache from hell.

Wait, what about you? Were you okay? Surely, he had to have pushed you out of the way in time, right?

His head moves quicker than it should’ve, revealing the other hospital bed in the room to be unoccupied, vacant. He sighs and his relief is further bolstered by the door to the nurse’s room opening to unveil you unharmed with only your heavy look of concern troubling him.

“Katsuki, oh thank god, you’re okay!” you say, quickly pacing over to his side with a glass of water in hand. You leave it at his bedside, sitting before him. Gauging your appearance up and down, Bakugou tries making out even the smallest details.

“You aren’t hurt?”

You’re appalled he would ask this despite clearly being the one patched up in a hospital bed right now, and likely sporting some serious head trauma.

“Of course I am, you’re the one that lunged forward to protect me,” you tell him. Bakugou looks down at his lap, figuring that was what happened, but hearing it from you comforted him more than he thought. However, his comfort is wretched from him by the intense pressure persisting in his skull. Seeing him in pain, you urge him to lay down and rest.

“How the hell did I end up here anyway?”

You fidget with your fingers, hesitating on answering. At that, the blond lifts a brow, suspicious.

“Mineta… accidentally dropped a rock on your head.”

“...You gotta be joking, right?”

Bakugou leers hard, finding the reason he was out of commission to be a damn pebble hitting his head a detriment to his pride. And because of Mineta of all fucking people. Still, if he hadn’t acted as quickly as he did, you would’ve been the one to meet his fate instead, and he weighed this outcome to better than the former.

Then you explain how the teachers had temporarily intervened to bring his unconscious body to the nurse’s, where the old lady went about tending to his injury. Said she did her job and all he needed was to rest and let her quirk take fuller effect within that time.

“So did we win the game?” He switches the topic to today’s mission of capture the flag that was cut short on his end.

You shake your head, but at least grant him the benefit of knowing Mineta’s team ended up placing last. At that, his eyelids shut and he crosses his arms behind his bandaged head. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t my intention to win anyway.”

You give him a look. “...Liar.”

Bakugou cracks an eye open at you. “Hah? What do you mean I’m a fucking liar?”

“I know you, Katsuki. I dated you, after all. And the Katsuki that I dated is an arrogant, competitive jerk who thinks of being the best above all else.” Bakugou scrunches his nose, wondering what you’re implying through your... overly frank descriptions. “Still… he’s sweet and caring at times… and reliable when he needs to be,” you continue, tone softening that draws Bakugou in, “And the kind of guy I want to give a second chance to.”

Absorbing your words, Bakugou blinks. “S-Seriously?” He doesn’t mean to stutter, but the offer catches him off-guard. He replays what you just said. That’s what he heard, right? A second chance?

You giggle at how uncharacteristically astonished he sounds. “Yes, seriously.”

“Does that mean you forgive me for what happened last week?”

You hum between pursed lips in playful contemplation. “Well, maybe you can redeem yourself by going on another date with me then?”

Hearing your proposal, a wide grin arcs his lips, edging into a smirk.

“That’s it? Well, I can definitely fucking do that,” he states, confidence rejuvenating his body at the new, hopeful chance before him.

“Oh, just one more thing though,” you suddenly add.

“What?”

“We are not going to that Chinese Restaurant again.”

[apocalypticgargoyle]

the “we’re fake dating to make someone jealous but actually end up together trope” reminds me of drrreeeaaaammmm😇😇😇

-🧚🏻‍♀️

YES YES 🧚 ANON I LOVE UR IDEAS YES.

I also included these: WELCOME 🦀 ANON and as always, 🍭 anon I'm in love w u.

[𝐁𝐎𝐘]𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃. ♘ 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 (𝟏𝟖+)

pairing: dream x reader (dre™ my beloved)

warnings: vulgar language, mentions of sex, basically that one scene from Easy A, me lowkey trying so hard not to get carried away

You took a sip of your drink; your mind racing with Clay’s words as you debated his plea. You hated the idea of pitting yourself against someone else for an envy factor and meddling in the love lives of your friends, but you knew you’d do anything for Clay. He could mention needing to kill a president and without a word, you’d be by his side. It had always been that way, so why were you so shaken by his request. Then again, you had brought it upon yourself.

“See that girl over there?” Clay asked, barely nodding toward the kitchen as he slumped down to your height so you could hear him over the pulsing music. The smell of the cologne your cousin bought him one Christmas in the hopes that he’d ask her to marry him wafted towards you. You had noticed how he had attempted to clean himself up when the two of you met at the bus stop before traveling to this shindig, but you had brushed it off, knowing it was probably for some girl’s attention.

You peered over his shoulder, seeing the kitchen packed with females. You shrugged slightly. “Yeah, which one?” You asked, raising your eyebrows.

He rolled his eyes. “As if it’s not obvious,” he mumbled sarcastically after realizing what you were talking about. His hand moved to hold your face, squishing your cheeks between his fingers as he angled your head towards one of the various women.

She looked up at the right moment, making eye contact with you and you pulled out of Clay’s grip, already knowing how idiotic the two of you looked staring at her as he blatantly was pointing her out to you. “Oh my god, she saw,” you whispered quickly and he drew in a sharp breath, the two of you freezing as if something were going to happen.

When she didn’t approach the pair of you, you went on like it hadn’t happened, Clay beginning to tell you about why he mentioned her. “We hooked up after calculus a few times,” he smugly boasted.

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Why are you still in calculus? Aren’t you a jun-”

“That’s beside the point,” he added, crossing his arms. “She hasn’t texted me back lately.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, peering back over in her direction. It always shook Clay up when a girl didn’t vie for his attention. He was attractive and popular on campus, but there were always a few that would slip through his fingers. And it drove him absolutely crazy.

You wet your lips, exhaling as you thought. “Maybe it’s because you’re too available?” You spoke, thinking out loud and more to yourself than him. He tilted his head as if urging you to continue. You took a sip of your drink, also wondering what you’d meant. “Just start fooling around with another girl and she’ll come running,” you offered.

He nodded along as you spoke, leaning a hand against the wall behind you. “Wanna fool around with me?” He jested, making you snort.

“Oh come on now,” you broke, dropping your head back against the wall, nearly missing his thumb.

He sent you a cheeky expression. “No, you come on now. You suggested it!”

You lightly punched his chest as if to get him to hear you instead of just listen to you. “I didn’t mean me, idiot! Don’t you have like fifteen other people in your phone?”

His shoulders slumped. “Please! I’ve seen you charm the pants off Karl and Sapnap at the same time,” he begged. He straightened up as if he was about to reluctantly agree to something. “I’ll paint your kitchen like you’ve been asking,” he mumbled.

And that’s how you found yourself leaning against Clay’s side as the two of you talked to a group of his friends. His arm curled around your waist, fingers gliding beneath the hem of your shirt to settle against the skin of your hip. You willed yourself to think of something other than his fingers pressed against you, fighting every urge to blush at the contact.

The song switched to a stereotypical dance song and people began to move. You downed the rest of your drink to psych yourself up before eyeing the girl momentarily and standing on your toes to reach Clay’s ear. You wrapped your arm around his shoulder as you told him to dance with you, knowing she was watching the two of you with searing eyes.

You knew he was fighting to see her expression, keeping his eyes on you as you pulled him towards the mass of people by his belt loop. “This is going to be super cringey before the both of us, just pretend you like it,” you bit as you pressed your back to him.

His hands dropped to your waist, moving with you to the beat. “Maybe I will enjoy myself. Don’t be so bossy,” he chided, voice raspy and warm in your ear from talking over the music for most of the night. He was a loud guy, but he always seemed to lose his voice after a party.

You turned in his arms, his body close to yours. “Don’t get too excited,” you jested, pressing a hand to his abdomen as you kept up with him, letting him drop his head beside yours.

“Oh, bet. I’ll get so drunk and mistake you for someone else,” he mocked, his voice a welcome break as it penetrated through the heavy bass of the song.

You scoffed. “Like who? Your cousin?” You teased, making him bite back a laugh as he bit his lip. You felt a laser gaze digging into your back as his hands moved you pull your waist against him. Your hand moved to pull his face to the crook of your neck. You could see her at the new angle; glaring at you over her cup. You felt guilt twist in the pit of your stomach. You’d been at it for a few hours and you were ready to amp it up before she left without him.

“Dream, take me upstairs,” you mumbled into his ear. He pulled away from you, brows threatening to furrow at your words. “Trust me,” you gritted, slipping your hand into his and making it apparent you were looking for a room with him in tow. He was quiet as you lead the way. From where you were walking, you saw her move to inch towards the steps as if she was investigating what you were doing with him. You knew it was in bad taste to set anyone up for jealousy but Clay was your friend, and you really needed your kitchen painted.

You found an empty room, tugging him inside and locking the door. He looked at you with a red tinge to his cheeks. You weren’t sure if it was from embarrassment as if he’d been thinking about what the two of you would be doing in the room, or if it was just from the alcohol. “What now?” He asked.

You chuckled, grabbing his wrist. “Fuck me,” you stated, the words feeling weird with him on the receiving end. His eyes went wide and he awkwardly moved his hands as if he were going to touch you. You rolled your eyes, swatting away his hands before grabbing his wrist and pulling him up to stand on the bed with you after you kicked off your shoes.

You started jumping on the bed, but he just looked at you with a confused expression, making you gesture for him to copy you. He was always like that; you telling him to do something and without actually questioning, he’d go along with you.

You could hear talking outside the door and something clicked in your head. “Oh, that feels so good, Clay. Don’t stop,” you falsely moaned, glaring at him as he struggled not to laugh, the two of you jumping almost in sync as the mattress squeaked beneath your weight.

You motioned for him to add and he looked up to the ceiling, attempting to recover from everything that was happening. “You like that? Slut,” he matched your tone, making you roll your eyes and cover your mouth to hide your laugh at the degradation.

You moaned again, and he giggled quietly, moaning with you. The two of you had begun to loosen up, even timing your jumps so you could double jump and throw Clay off balance. If someone had told you a week prior that you’d be jumping on a nameless person’s bed with your best friend, pretending he was nailing you into tomorrow, you would have laughed. But it probably wouldn’t have surprised you.

The two of you slowed down, winded from the unnecessary exercise. You shrugged slightly, mimicking what you would sound like during an orgasm. It came out weak and Clay looked at you like you’d stabbed him in the chest. He mouthed, “Come on.” You rolled your eyes, wondering how you had found yourself in that position before moaning again, this time a bit too accurately.

You covered your mouth and Clay’s ears turned red as he laughed slightly. You’d been roommates with a friend of his in the past and it nearly dawned on you that he might have heard the sound from you before. You brushed the thought from your mind before it could completely sink in as you got off the bed. He plopped down on the edge of the mattress, catching his breath as you straightened your clothing, tugging your shoes back on. There was something hanging in the air between the two of you now, but you had quickly decided that you’d rather not address it.

After that night, you weren’t really sure how it had gone between Clay and the girl. You wanted to ask him about it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to after you noticed the two leaving together. You had done your job, maybe a bit too well.

In fact, the two of you had been avoiding each other since then. It wasn’t until a week later that you were finally in the same room with him at a birthday party for a mutual friend of yours. The two of you glanced at each other awkwardly before you stood beside him, nudging his arm with your own.

“So, how’d it go with that one girl?” You asked, glancing up at him, your eyes then settling on the group spread around the room talking amongst themselves.

He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Uh, yeah I ended up just driving her home,” he muttered, chewing on his bottom lip. You raised an eyebrow at him. “I just… I wasn’t in the mood anymore. I don’t know…”

You nodded at his statement, deciding that it was ridiculous for you to feel so weird around him for nothing. You knew it was all in your head and he wouldn’t be walking around on eggshells if you weren’t making him. This was Clay, after all. “All that work and for what?” You joked.

He sent you a smile, his shoulders relaxing. “I mean, come on. You had to have enjoyed that-”

You cut him off. “Oh yeah, grinding on you was literally the greatest time of my life,” you quipped sarcastically.

He grinned smugly. “I mean, it was the greatest time of my life to hear you moaning my name.”

You scoffed. “Hope you recorded it,” you mumbled, making him nod in agreement. You rolled your eyes playfully as everyone moved to gather around each other. Seats quickly filled up and Clay sent you a sly grin, patting his lap.

Just to prove a point, you took his offer, making him tense up as if he wasn’t expecting you to. He sat up a bit straighter to even the two of you out, making you shift on his lap. You moved again, setting your drink on one of the nearby tables and he groaned. You froze, hoping no one had noticed his hand press into your hip.

His lips were beside your ear; breath warm and inviting. “Stop moving,” he bit, voice barely above a whisper.

Your mouth curled into a smirk. “Why? Can’t control yourself?” You jeered, making his grip tighten on you.

“Don’t tease,” he nipped, making you smile wider. You moved again, this time pulling your knee to your chest and leaning back against him. With the new movement, you could feel him harden beneath you, and for some reason, you were into it. Your escapades in the bedroom had given you a series of oddly sexual dreams about Clay. Maybe this was your chance to relieve what tension had been built between the two of you.

His other arm moved to wrap around your knee, cementing you in place. “Cut it out,” he hissed, making your eyes settle on his. You could tell by the lust-blown look in his eyes that he was already thinking about you too.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” You quizzed, your heart hammering in your chest as his eyes danced back and forth between yours, searching your face for a hint of joking.

You could feel his heart skip a beat. “Really?” He asked, waiting for you to redact your words. You nodded. “You’re serious?”

“As serious as your mom and the pool boy,” you joked, instantly lightening the mood as he rolled his eyes, leaning forward and digging his face into the crook of your neck and making you laugh. You got off his lap, moving towards the birthday boy and saying your goodbyes with the claim that you had an upset stomach so Clay was driving you home.

When the two of you finally got out of the apartment building, Clay turned to you. He spoke with a clear tone now, “This is real,” his words coming out as a question in and of itself. “You’re not fucking with me?”

You sighed, shaking your head before grabbing onto his jacket and pressing your lips against his, your body flush against him as his hands hesitantly wrapped around you. Your kiss quickly became hungry and passionate. You’d never kissed him before; usually opting to live vicariously through your friends. As your hands carded into his hair, his fingers fisted in your clothing, almost as if you would float away from him.

Clay broke away almost breathlessly, his lips moving to press against your neck. “I want you,” he groaned, making you moan in response. As he pulled you towards his car, you knew the two of you would finally be relieving some long-time festering tension.

[kaeyasaki]

— ❝ HOUSE RULES ❞

miya atsumu x f!reader

after coming back home from an overseas trip, atsumu comes back home to discover that his pretty little wife seems to have let a few certain rules slip, it’s a good thing he’s more than happy to help her revise them. — wc; 4K

thank you so so much @tsumue for beta reading, you helped so much fr hottie <3

dt; @7tsumurai i told you i’d get out a fic im happy with for you when i had more time and here it is, i love you so very much and thank you for everything you’ve done for me, you’re a real life saver and i wouldn’t want anyone other than you as my hot milf mommy <3

warnings; nsfw, unprotected sex, dumbification, rough sex, degradation, slapping, misogynistic behaviour + overstimulation bye i really said i didn’t have it in me

slotting his house key into the lock, atsumu had a content smile gracing his face as the next scene he assumed to be ahead of him was already playing out in his head.

you in a pretty dress he had so graciously bought and maybe even one of those cute frilly aprons he’d insisted upon gifting you. you would drop your cooking utensil immediately upon his arrival and rush over to him to take care of his jacket and bags while chanting about how desperately you missed your dear husband while he was away. atsumu would then shower you with the attention you had been missing out on and he’d have his darling little wife sit on his lap mindlessly chattering about how much she needed him.

atsumu was sure this was what was going to play out before him as soon as he opened the door.

so why the fuck had he opened the door to see otherwise?

his eyes twitched with irritation slightly at the sight of you in sweats on the couch lazily scrolling through your phone, but he refused to throw a fit immediately. he was kind enough to allow you the chance to explain yourself, afterall, he was adamant he was a good husband to you. the best husband to you.

“baby.” his voice rang clearly through the room as your head perked up at the sound of his voice. immediately you smiled upon seeing him as you hopped off the couch and dropped your phone to wander over to him. while you offered atsumu a warm smile, it didn’t seem to be reciprocated as a small but familiar glint in his eye told you enough to know something was off.

“i missed you.” you tried to shake that look from him as you wrapped your arms around his slim torso and inhaled the scent you’d found yourself missing over the week. “yeah?” he questioned as you looked up to meet his still piercing eyes. “of course.” you sighed before burying your face back into his chest for a moment.

for just a second, atsumu forgot why he was even mad. did he even have a right to be mad? he had a nice house, a job he loved and most importantly, the most perfect little wife. but then it all came back to him and the irritation stayed present as he stared down at you wrapped around his body.

the perfect little wife should have her husband’s dinner cooking and ready to be served upon his arrival. the perfect little wife should be dressed appropriately according to her husband's personal preferences which in atsumu’s case, were the dainty little outfits he was constantly having you try on and strut around the house in. the perfect little wife should respond appropriately whilst talking to her husband which for atsumu meant he’d prefer you at least pretend to be a little more mindlessly excited about seeing him again.

maybe you weren’t his perfect little wife anymore, but he could only blame himself. you were just too stupid to think for yourself, how could atsumu blame you for forgetting the rules he has in place if he hadn’t been around to remind you of them this past week? no matter, he’d just have to remind you as many times as it took to get these demands through to that pretty head of yours.

“i think someone’s forgotten a few things since i left.” atsumu stated flatly as you pulled away from him, eyes desperately looking up at him pleading to know where you had fucked up.

“i have?” you questioned, hands tugging at the hem of his jacket a little. you looked down refusing to continue looking at the disappointed expression of the man you loved the most knowing you had caused him to be upset.

atsumu smiled slightly as you slowly began to fall back into your submissive ways as he brought his hand down to hook his fingers under your chin forcing you to look up at him. his eyes were a little softer than before as thoughts of your kind and wonderful husband flooded your senses once more. you felt so terrible upsetting him as soon as he had come home. this was the man who insisted upon giving you anything and everything you ever asked for on a silver platter. he spoiled you to no ends and always pampered you to the point where it was clear you were his brat.

desperately wanting to make up for your out of line behaviour, you pulled the jacket off of atsumu and took his bags from his hand as he hummed in approval. the slightest grain of praise sent your head into turmoil as only thoughts of atsumu were permitted to dance around in there. smiling at him, you turned towards the direction of your bedroom before you were stopped by atsumu’s voice.

“and when you come back, i want to see ya dressed how you know yer meant to be.” you gave him a quick nod as you hurried to your shared bedroom to drop his things and throw on an outfit you knew would be approving of him.

carefully scanning through your choice, you finally decided on wearing a cute little cami mini dress atsumu had bought you a few months back. the soft material stopped at your mid thigh as the short spaghetti straps held the dress up your body as the material tugged around you in all the right places. determined to show atsumu you were extra sorry, you grabbed a delicate apron he had bought you a few weeks beforehand and it was one you were yet to wear. the dainty frills and clean material were tied around your waist as you stared at your reflection back in the mirror.

you had missed atsumu, really, but you had missed this routine more and you were grateful your husband was kind enough to keep you in check whenever you slipped up rather than blow up over it.

you really were a lucky wife.

satisfied with your appearance, you pattered down the stairs to find atsumu leaning against the kitchen counter scanning over the meal you had been cooking prior to his return left cold on the stove. noticing your presence, atsumu smiled at your outfit as he open his arms for you to fall into. “at least you got one thing right.” he sighed as you nodded noting he was referring to the meal you had been preparing just thirty minutes before he had stepped through the door.

pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, atsumu pulled away before tapping your inner thigh making you jolt slightly. “well, get to it, i’ve had a long journey and i’m starvin’.” he sighed, smile still slightly evident on his face.

you nodded and stood over the stove before turning it on. the cooking process was simple, it was practically just a matter of heating the food up as atsumu never required you to do any actual heavy cooking. he’d never dare have you do anything that could potentially callous or wear down your soft hands that he loved having you run all over his body. he only ever put you to a little more work when it came to taking care of certain things. housework and cooking were mundane things he liked to let you get off with lightly. preserving your energy to have you selfishly take care of his personal needs.

two minutes went by before you felt a looming presence behind you. instinctively, you stepped back slightly allowed atsumu to wrap his arms around your waist and press his body up against yours from behind. thumbs traced small circles over the sides of your waist as you tried to keep your focus on the food on the stove careful not to burn it. not that atsumu would particularly care if you did, ordering in was always an option, but he’d always let you have a try and providing for him beforehand.

your head was going light as your husband's hot breath fanned right against your ear as you struggled to keep your focus on the stove. “i’m disappointed.” atsumu sighed lowly sending shivers through your body as he leaned in closer. “i thought i’d taught ya well enough to be able to remember how things work around here.”

your heart tugged at the degrading tone he was using whether it was intentional or not before atsumu continued. “it’s a shame really, i could’ve rewarded ya for being away from me for so long, but now it looks like i’m gonna have to use that time to remind you of a few lessons.” you nodded curtly at the light scolding as your husband's hand dipped between your inner thigh grazing over the pretty panties you found to be increasingly annoying.

thumb tracing the hem of the material, he continued to sigh and mutter small disapprovals of your previous behaviour, but none of the derogatory terms educating nor belittling you, but rather exciting you instead.

you could only hum and nod in agreement at atsumu’s words as the more you gave in, the more he did too. with each acceptance of scolding, your husband would reward you by pressing his fingers a little harsher through your already soaking panties.

“stupid girl,” he muttered up against your ear as your breathing grew slightly ragged. “i thought i taught ya to know better by now.”

his words only worked you up more as he buried his head into the crook of your neck, allowing his teeth to nip at your hot skin. now focusing his attention on your neck, atsumu sucked harshly making sure to leave bruises littered across where he had access to making sure to rebrand you as his own. “tsumu…” you whined as his fingers continued dragging along the soft silk material. “just take them off already.” you whimpered before your husband bit a little harsher causing you to yelp.

“first i come home to ya looking less than presentable and now yer telling me what to do?” your heart hammered at his dark tone as he pulled away momentarily. “baby,” he shook his head. “how could ya give me instructions when ya can’t even follow simple ones yerself.” he sighed as you whispered a quick apology.

his hand pulled away from between your thighs to instead grip the sides of your hips. rough hands running up and down your sides under the pretty dress you’d chosen for him. “let me show ya why i’m in charge around here yeah?” his hips were pressed up behind yours forcing you to feel how pent up he was too. “please.” you whimpered mindlessly grinding against the growing tent in his sweats.

atsumu chuckled before nipping the shell of your ear halting your instinctive movements. “good girl for asking me so nicely.”

with atsumu assaulting your neck once more and further adding to the sensation by pressing up against your clothed clit, all thoughts that weren’t regarding miya atsumu had disintegrated and now your only motive was to make your loving husband proud and take what he was willing to give you.

slowly, your movements grew to become more frantic as his hands stayed firm on your hips as he steadied himself behind you. “oh angel, ya really missed me huh?” he teased while slowing you to rut against him, clothes separating the two of you much to your frustration. you chanted small “uh huh”s as atsumu smiled upon your mindless behaviour. “it’s okay baby, let yer man take care of ya, i’ll make sure ya never forget these little rules again.” you mewled out his name which only delighted him further.

you were just too easy.

“so independent,” he whispered, fingers finally hooking under the hem of the silky undergarments before slowly pulling them down to pool at your ankles below. “it’s my fault, yer too stupid to be left alone for more than a few days right?” you nodded completely missing whatever you were agreeing to as atsumu continued to trace dreadfully slow patterns under your dress.

“it’s okay baby, i know you didn’t mean to make me angry did ya? it’s not yer fault ya can’t think for yerself.” atsumu continued to degrade you to nothing more than a brainless doll as you gave in to his desires completely all while trying to give the heating food on the stove even the slightest grain of attention you could.

fingers pressing onto your aching clit, your husband began to draw rough patterns onto the sensitive area, making sure to get a good feel of just how aroused he made you feel. humming in approval at the short breathy moans that left your throat, atsumu continued to tease you as you melted back into his chest keeping you in place against him and the stove.

“that’s it, good girl.” he praised the moment your legs parted a little wider for him to access. “feel good?” he asked despite the fact he already knew what your answer was. “yes atsumu, feels so good.” you blabbered as he selfishly stole all your focus onto him.

pushing his middle finger inside of you, atsumu’s eyes lit up at the feeling of how tight and wet you were around his finger. while your behavior wasn’t always perfect, your pussy was. he’d always tell you how you were made for him, your mind, body and soul all rightfully his as you always gave into him, atsumu’s grin widened when he felt you clench around his digits, your body already well accustomed to him. just how he’d trained it to be.

it wasn’t long before your husband was kind enough to give you his index finger, thumb ghosting over your clit after every few movements. relishing in the pretty sounds he was drawing out of you, atsumu picked up the pace knowing fully well you were practically teetering on the edge by now. your stuttered breathing, whimpers and pleading of his name were enough of a giveaway to know you were desperate for release, but the setter wasn’t about to give in.

while he had forgiven you a while ago, atsumu had decided that perhaps a little more punishment would really help you remember not to let him come home to anything less than what he expects again as he pulled his fingers out of you immediately after feeling you tense up.

“atsu- why?” you sobbed out frustrated and upset that he’d taken your high away from you. you were the most worked up you’d ever felt at this point and atsumu knew that too hence why he decided that now was the time to have a little bit of fun on his side with you. “i’m still mad ya know.” he cooed mockingly from behind you. “or did ya forget?”

“no, no, i didn’t i’m sorry.” you cried out, tears trickling out your eyes as atsumu stared up at your reflection against the glass panels up against the stove. part of him wished he waited, just to get you in a position where you were facing him, but for now he’d make do as his dick throbbed at the sight of your reflection. upset and ashamed, you stared back into your own reflection meeting your husband's wicked gaze.

“of course ya are.” atsumu hummed, hands temporarily pulling away from you to reach down to his own sweats. “and yer gonna show me how sorry ya are, right?”. pulling down both his sweats and boxers in one go, your breath hitch despite the fact you weren’t facing the terrifying thing. you didn’t need to be looking at it to know what it was capable of. atsumu’s cock was nothing new to you, but everytime you were met with it, atsumu proved himself to be just as relentless as the first time you’d experienced it.

both long and girthy, you were certain miya atsumu was the biggest you’d ever seen and taken, with thick veins running up and down the shaft adding further to the arousal he caused you.

“tsumu…” you breathed out as he pressed the swollen head in line with your entrance. “i’ve already gotten ya ready, don’t be greedy.” he scolded before you could even speak. despite his harsh words though, atsumu was still considerate enough to try and take some of the focus away from any potential pain with his fingers as he let his hand dip back down between your thighs fingers circling your clit gathering any slick he could before smothering it over your pretty pussy which at this point was clenching around nothing much to your demise.

rubbing the head up and down your clit to make access a little easier on the both of you, atsumu pushed into you stretching out your walls as you chanted his name like a mantra. his fingers were a lot different from his cock, as tears were dripping down your face in a mixture of both pleasure and pain all while he allowed you a moment to adjust to the dramatic size difference you had just gotten used to.

lifting the hem of your dress up, atsumu’s mood was left content at seeing your tight pussy struggle to take him all in. he was a proud man, proud of you and proud of his capability to get you like this.

pulling his hand away from your clit now that he’d pushed inside of you, the setter took both his hands to firmly grip on your hips as he began to start thrusting at a slow but steady pace to get you going.

while you thought atsumu was mad at you, he missed you more than anything and while he’d love to pull you away from the hot stove and fuck you over the clean marble counter, he was determined to enjoy the feeling of slowing making you his all over again for now. he’d have all the time in the world to roughly punish you should he ever choose to, but in this moment, he was content with what he was giving you and he was certain his pretty little wife had learnt her lesson.

finally getting you accustomed to the size of him, your cries turned into soft moans as the tip of his cock hit against your cervix sending your head to go blank and your actions to become completely instinctive. the only thing bringing you out of this mindless trance is the feeling of a hard slap to your ass as your head jolts up and you cry out.

“so, are ya really sorry for upsettin’ me?” atsumu challenges, speed continually picking up as your head scrambles to string together some form of answer. you know better than to keep him waiting as you open your mouth to speak, but before you can even try to get any words out, another slap lands just as harshly as the last, the pain mixing in with the pleasure throwing your make do answer out the window as you struggle to reply properly.

“yes tsumu, so sorry- never again.” you weep as the dried tears are replaced with a fresh wave dripping down your face much to atsumu’s satisfaction. “never what again?” he pries further all while slamming his dick in and out of your dripping cunt. “never - shit- never break your rules again.” you plead doing your best to show him just how sorry you really were.

sinking into you completely, atsumu really starts fucking you with the head of his cock hitting your cerfix repeatedly, the smacking of his balls slapping up against your ass mixed with the sound of your dripping hole being used as if it were a fleshlight echo through the room for you to hear.

“tsumu, ‘m sorry, m’ sorry, so- please!” you sob reaching the edge of your high once more feeling desperate for allowance from him this time. “not yet.” he hisses out as his thrust shows no relentlessness. all while you’re trying to hold yourself together, you feel the heat of the stove bring you back to some sort of sense as you make quick work of turning the gas completely off paying no mind to what the state of the food was inside of the pan.

“look up.” he demands, one hand straying from your hips to hook onto your jaw as he forces you to face the glass reflection of yourself being fucked stupid by him. “stupid slut.” he spits out pistoning his cock in and out of you at an unbearable pace. “my stupid slut.” he hisses slamming in and out of you forcing cries and wails out of your throat.

“not a slut.” you whimper out now refusing to take his degrading any longer. “‘m your wife tsumu, your good wife.” you insist, desperate for any form of praise from him. your husband sneers as he holds your jaw in place forcing you to stare at your fucked out expression.

“i don’t want a good wife, i want a perfect wife, ya got that?” he demands squeezing your hip as his own hips move faster than before. tears still streaming down your face from the immense pleasure and frustrations, you nod before mindlessly blabbering out your pleads.

“your perfect wife yeah, wanna be your perfect wife all yours.” you beg hurriedly in fear of him depriving you of your second orgasm of the night.

he liked the sound of that. knowing he had you completely and utterly wrapped around his finger pleased him. your words only affirming this satisfaction as you gave yourself into him completely allowing him the rights of making you his and his alone. it’s like he always told you; you were made for him.

“go on then,” he grunts. “cum for me, pretty girl. now.”

he doesn't have to tell you twice as his hard thrusts pay no mercy to your cute little pussy, you can only think about cumming around him at this very second. the tight coil in your stomach finally allowed to break, your walls spasm around his cock as he continues to pound inside of you all while youre granted the pleasure of finally releasing. the feeling making you see stars, atsumu continues to use your hole as he pleases his only motive now chasing after his own high.

tightening his grip on your hips, he pressed his lips up close to your ear, once again nipping lightly at the shell. “gonna be my perfect wife yeah? yer taking it all for me got it?” he growls as you nod quickly, head still spinning.

“yeah, yeah tsumu, your perfect wife, all yours.” you beg, the overstimulation preventing you from thinking straight.

“that's right, mine, mine, mine.” he finishes forcing his load into your tight hole, his hot cum filling your womb completely. the feeling of him inside of you causes your tongue to drop out as both tears and spit dribble down your face as he continues to ram in and out of you through his orgasm.

finishing, atsumu grunts and pulls out of you, eyes bright seeing your abused hole leak out with his cum. seeing you completely fucked out by him was one of his favourite sights and he was certain he’d never get enough of it.

regardless of his rules and words, atsumu adored you no matter what. but to see you completely ruined by him and him alone, it only made him fall harder knowing you were willing to always take whatever he desired to give you. it made him proud to know he’d cuffed someone so willing for him.

as you catch your breath, atsumu looks over your shoulder that the burnt food you had yet to notice. meeting his gaze, you look down at the contents in the pan and internally cuss yourself out at the mistake. so sure you were getting another scolding, you jolt at the feeling of atsumu’s hand resting on your shoulder.

“yer too cute for cooking anyway.” he mutters allowing you to breathe out relieved. stepping away from you and pulling up his boxers and sweats, atsumu allows himself one more glance at the sight of his cum dribbling down your thighs from behind. smiling to himself, he nods over at the direction of the house phone before heading towards the couch.

“show me you���ve learnt ya lesson and ring up for dinner yeah? maybe then i’ll give ya the reward i was talking about earlier.”

he smiles at the sight of you nodding, your wobbly legs making their way over to the landline to ring up for whatever takeaway came to mind, your husbands load still dripping between your thighs.

miya atsumu was adamant he was a lucky man. he had a nice house, a job he loved and now he was now certain he had the most perfect little wife.

[emily-smx]

Lies of Omission

I know that this scene has been discussed hundreds of times already, and there are probably posts out there that are very similar to this one. However, I saw this being brought up again on Instagram, and I feel the need to say my bit about it.

The question brought up over and over again is “Why did Scott believe Theo over Stiles?”.

He didn’t.

In the entire scene, there’s never once the question of whose story he should believe – as far as the boys are concerned, there is only one story. That’s what causes the miscommunication.

I also noticed something else while watching the scene: nothing that Stiles said actually contradicted Theo’s story.

To go into more depth, I’m going to go through each bit of the dialogue and explain what’s basically being said from each character’s point of view.

[Scott holds out the bloody wrench]

Stiles: Where did you get that?

Scott: This is yours? Why didn't you tell me?

Stiles: I was going to...

Scott: No, but why didn't you tell me when it happened?

Stiles: I couldn't.

So far, it’s pretty straightforward.

Scott shows Stiles the wrench, who immediately reacts in a guilty manner. It’s important to note that Scott’s “This is yours?” holds quite a bit of surprise in it, so he clearly hadn’t already made up his mind about what happened.

Stiles takes the wrench and looks at it, while Scott asks him “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I know that, to some people, his question implies that he’s already leapt to a conclusion about what happened, but this isn’t necessarily the case. He hasn’t specified what it is he believes Stiles has done; all this shows is that he knows something big has happened.

Stiles’ response sounds incredibly guilty, and he struggles to look Scott in the eye. It’s clear at this point that he’s done something bad.

Scott: You killed him? You killed Donovan?

Stiles: Well, he was going to kill my dad. Huh? Was I supposed to just let him?

Scott: You weren't supposed to do this. None of us are.

This is where it starts to get more confusing.

Scott asks whether Stiles killed Donovan, and again the surprise and disbelief in his voice shows that he hadn’t already made up his mind prior to this conversation.

Stiles responds by telling him “he was going to kill my dad [...] was I supposed to just let him?” (i.e. “I killed Donovan because he was going to kill my dad”).

The worst thing about this is that it essentially confirms what Theo was saying. Theo said “maybe it was because he threatened to kill his dad”.

It also implies to Scott that this was not self-defense, because Stiles’ dad wasn’t there. Instead, it tells Scott that Stiles chose to kill Donovan because he couldn’t risk Donovan hurting his father.

Also, Stiles is asking Scott “Was I supposed to just let him [kill my father]?” (i.e. “was I supposed to let him go free and risk him killing my father?”)

If Stiles had explained how much he regretted it, Scott (despite still not knowing the whole story) would likely have reacted differently. Instead, it sounds to Scott as though Stiles has done something terrible and is now defending it.

Hence, he replies by essentially saying that no, his response was not justified. “You weren't supposed to do this.”

Stiles: You think I had a choice?

Scott: There's always a choice.

This is where it’s important to look at the different viewpoints. Scott is still under the impression that Stiles killed Donovan to protect his father. So, from his point of view, Stiles did have a choice.

Stiles: Yeah, well, I can't do what you can, Scott. I know you wouldn't have done it. You probably would have just figured something out, right?

Scott: I'd try.

Stiles: Yeah, because you're Scott McCall! You're the True Alpha! Guess what? All of us can't be True Alphas! Some of us have to make mistakes. Some of us have to get our hands a little bloody sometimes. Some of us are human!

Once again, it’s clear that they’re talking about completely different things.

Stiles is talking about what he can do physically. He’s saying that he couldn’t easily fight off Donovan the way that Scott could have. He’s saying that Scott could have found a solution that didn’t end in one of them dying.

But Scott still doesn’t know that. He still thinks that Stiles killed Donovan by using disproportionate force, because he was scared that if Donovan survived then he’d harm his father. From his point of view, Stiles is saying that murder was the only option, and he couldn’t figure something else out.

So he responds by essentially saying that yes, he would try and figure out another solution to protect his father and also not kill Donovan.

It’s an entirely reasonable response, but obviously from Stiles’ point of view, Scott is being very unfair here. This, along with the fact that he’s being crushed under guilt and stress and anger, causes him to lash out.

Scott: So you had to kill him?

Stiles: Scott, he was going to kill my dad!

Scott: But the way that it happened... There's a point when it's... It's not self-defense anymore!

Stiles: What are you even talking about? I didn't have a choice, Scott!

Scott, to his credit, doesn’t get angry, and instead gets back to the main point. He’s clearly very desperate at this point, desperate for there to be something he’s missed.

So he asks whether Stiles had to kill him – note that this isn’t simply if Stiles killed Donovan, it’s more about whether it was the only choice. Keep in mind, that Scott cares a lot about Stiles. He doesn’t want to fall out with him.

Unfortunately, Stiles’ response only emphasised what he’d previously claimed, making it sound like that was his only reason.

This is where both characters should have paid more attention to each other’s words. Scott’s comment about “the way that it happened” should have driven Stiles to questioning what he thought had happened; and Stiles’ confusion should have again made Scott question whether he had the story right.

However, they’re both upset and stressed, and so it’s understandable that at this point they aren’t thinking clearly and rationally.

Stiles: You don't even believe me, do you?

Scott: I want to.

Stiles: Okay. All right, so... So, believe me, then. Scott, say you believe me. Say it. Say you believe me.

[Stiles steps forward brandishing the wrench and Scott flinches]

Scott: Stiles, we can't kill people that we're trying to save.

Stiles: Say you believe me!

Scott: We can't kill people. Do you believe that?

This is where everybody hates Scott, but again it’s taking everything out of context.

When Stiles says “believe me”, he means “believe me that there was no choice, I was about die and it was an accident”, but Scott hears “believe me that my only choice was to kill Donovan to protect my dad”.

Scott wants to believe that Stiles’ actions were necessary, but he knows that killing somebody to prevent the possibility of something else from happening in the future is not justified (especially when there are other ways they could have protected his dad).

Also, Theo was cunning and he told Scott “maybe Stiles thought he had to keep going to defend himself” – which feeds into Scott’s belief that Stiles might have thought it was his only choice, despite this not being the case.

I also want to point out that Scott flinching is likely due to the trauma of Void Stiles. In Letharia Vulpina (3x19), by the animal clinic in the pouring rain, Void Stiles tortured Scott. The similarities of the situation likely caused him to flinch (and then there’s obviously the fact that flinching when somebody steps forward with a weapon is a completely natural response, even without all the trauma).

Stiles: Well, what do I do about this? What do you want me to do? Okay, just be... Scott, just tell me how to fix this, all right? Please, just tell me-- what do you want me to do?

Scott: Don't worry about Malia or Lydia. We'll find them. Maybe... Maybe you should talk to your dad.

This is when Stiles essentially gives up. From his point of view, he’s tried defending himself, but Scott is still condemning him; he’s being blamed for something that was in no way his fault.

Instead of lashing out again, he accepts that he was at fault (although he wasn’t – it was his guilt that was persuading him that he was in the wrong), and begs Scott to tell him how he can fix his mistake.

Scott, who is also very overwhelmed, suggests he talk to his dad, who will be able to fix it and sort everything out.

I know some people equate this to Scott kicking Stiles out of the pack, but I really don’t think it is.

Scott saying “Don't worry about Malia or Lydia” is not him forbidding Stiles from speaking to them. It’s simply a callback to the beginning of the conversation, when Stiles informed Scott that he’d been unable to get in touch with Malia or Lydia.

And yes, he dismisses Stiles, but that’s because so many other things are going on. Hayden is directly behind them, dying in the animal clinic. Scott needs to go and help her, and Stiles being there will probably just increase the tension and make things more difficult.

In Conclusion:

It was a miscommunication. Scott and Stiles both thought they were talking about the same thing, which led to them not understanding what the other was trying to say.

Scott did not come into the argument already believing Stiles was guilty. His reaction to Theo’s story was, literally, “that’s not possible”. It was Stiles’ accidental confirmation of Theo’s story that led Scott to believe it was true.

“believe me” does not mean “believe my story”, because to their knowledge there was only one story.

Scott did not kick Stiles out of the pack.

I firmly believe that the only mistake either character made (beyond hiding the whole secret in the first place) is not pushing further to make sure they were both talking about the same thing. Scott should have asked for Stiles’ full story of the events, and Stiles should have explained what happened when he had the chance. It can, however, be put down to their mindsets at the time: Theo chose a good time to tell Scott, when both of them were already overwhelmed with all the events going on.

[xaharadesert]

Accidental Potion Drinking - Headcanon

Arcana Characters (Main 6) x MC

A/N: This is one of the super cute requests I’ve gotten from @firefly-child! It’s taken some time to get to it (as I’m currently working through older requests), but I’m super excited to write something light and fluffy :) the backstory provided was along the lines of MC and their LI having a little wine night when MC accidentally grabs the wrong bottle and they end up drinking a harmless potion instead, which is a really fun request! I don’t know anything about wine, so I’ll just casually skirt around that issue by leaving it to the reader’s imagination, but since the type of potion was left up to me I’ll definitely be having some fun describing the effects! Please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes, and requests are open!

TW: drinking, consumption of alcohol, tipsy characters, mentions of alcohol, sorry I don’t really know how to tag for this kind of thing, but the alcohol bit is really only mentioned briefly to set up the scene

❤️Julian❤️

It didn’t take long to realize that you had grabbed the wrong bottle, considering that after the two of you had taken a few sips of what you had thought was wine you had both started slowly floating upward

There were a few moments where Julian thought to himself “wow, this stuff must be pretty strong, I kinda feel like I’m floating” before he realized that, oh, he was, in fact, floating

This was followed shortly after by only a second of panic, which quickly turned into delight when he remembered he was dating a magician and this sort of thing was probably normal for you

Honestly though, as endearing as it would be for him to simply trust that you were pulling a harmless prank, you would probably be panicking a bit more because oh my stars you grabbed the wrong bottle and which potion was this exactly?

But of course, Julian has an infectious laugh, and seeing as you were already a bit tipsy and nothing majorly bad was currently happening, you dissolved into a fit of giggles as well

By now the two of you were drifting near the ceiling (thank goodness you were inside), laughing at each other as you tried not to spin too far apart

The effects of the potion wore off a few minutes later, seeing as you had only had a few sips each, and you settled down peacefully, no harm done

🧡Portia🧡

The two of you had been having a rather peaceful evening, for once devoid of any sort of job or task that needed tending to

You were genuinely relaxing, drinking wine and telling bad jokes that would send you into full-bellied laughter— the kind that only seemed to grow whenever you tried to stop

With that being said, it wasn’t that surprisingly when the two of you developed a bad case of the hiccups after a while

What was surprising were the bubbles that floated from your mouth afterward

Although you were initially confused, Portia’s obvious delight at the magical turn of events quickly dissuaded your worries

She was always thrilled whenever you performed even the smallest bit of magic in your daily life, and this was no different, even if it was an accident on your part

Her hiccups only seemed to get worse as she laughed harder, tears of joy starting to spill from her eyes

The mood was infectious, and you would find yourself joining her in her pure delight

Small moments of joy such as this permeated your relationship, but this one in particular would always be a favourite of Portia’s, she was sure

💛Lucio💛

You know, even with Mercedes and Melchoir’s incessant barking, you two had been having a rather relaxing evening, sharing your favourite wines with each other as Lucio regaled you with endless stories of his epic past battles and parties

However, as always, things took a turn in the most unexpected way

The two of you had only taken a few sips of a bottle you had brought out when you noticed the dogs’ barks seemed to sound… different

You tuned out Lucio for a moment and came to the realization that you were, in fact, hearing actual genuine words coming from the dogs’ mouths as they yelled at Lucio, an endless chant of “Dad, dad, dad!”

Lucio seemed to have not noticed, so you gave him a gentle shove and motioned for him to be quiet and listen to the dogs, which promptly lead to his own eyes widening and his mouth hanging open as he processed what was happening

He was thrilled, obviously, to be able to communicate with his beloved dogs, and all thoughts of the story he was telling were forgotten

In all honesty, Mercedes and Melchior didn’t seem to have a lot to say other than “Dad!” and “Love!”, but Lucio’s eyes were brimming with tears anyway as he hugged his dogs close

Let’s be real, having the opportunity to tell a beloved pet that you love them and to have them understand it would be one of the greatest feelings of all time, and Lucio was determined to not waste a second

What may have been a small mistake on your part was one of the greatest moments of Lucio’s life, in his words

💚Muriel💚

It wasn’t noticeable at first— then again, Muriel’s voice was rather deep

But after a few more sips, you couldn’t deny it; his voice was definitely getting higher

He had been in the middle of telling you about something funny one of the chicken’s had done that day, and you had been quietly listening, but now you absolutely had to know

So, as politely as possible, you interrupted him, only to find that, oh, yeah, your voice was much higher than before

Both of you seemed pretty shocked, but let’s be honest, it’s hard not to laugh when it sounds like both of you had just inhaled helium, which, apparently, was the effect of the potion you had accidentally poured out for the two of you to drink

Muriel tried to stifle his laughter, but failed miserably as you embraced the situation and let out a long and loud sound of joy

There was no harm in drinking the potion, luckily, so the two of you decided to continue as you were, telling stories in the most serious voices you could while trying not to burst out laughing

💙Asra💙

Most evenings you spent alone with Asra were filled with quiet laughter and gentle light continuing to illuminate the room even after the sun had bid you goodnight, and today was no different

You had opened a new bottle of wine just a few minutes prior, despite both you and Asra having slightly rosy cheeks from being a bit tipsy already

The cozy light of the lantern above your head reflected off of him in a way that almost made him seem like he was glowing, although combined with the way he dressed it wasn’t very unusual

That was until you reached out to him to push aside a stray curl from his face and subsequently realized that relative to you, he really was very much actually glowing

You had been telling him about a particularly stubborn customer earlier, and as a result, hadn’t had as much to drink, so the difference was clear

He picked up on your surprise quickly, and reached up toward his own hair, thinking perhaps there was something stuck in it that startled you, only to also see his skin was glowing with a faint light

Of course, he knew as well as you did that potions were often misplaced in the shop when there was no real urgency to keep them sorted, so he knew right away what was happening, and, frankly, he found it hilarious

If you were at all apprehensive about drinking random potions while tipsy, Asra would have been pick to put those thoughts from your mind by quickly downing more of the potion and snuffing out the lantern

This on it’s own would have been a funny sight, but when he smiled widely at you and you noticed that even his teeth were glowing with a bright white light, you wouldn’t have been able to do anything but laugh, which, of course, had been his plan all along

He would encourage you to drink the potion as well so the two of you could wander around in the darkened Vesuvian streets and scare other citizens :)

💜Nadia💜

Wine nights with Nadia are pretty common— it’s one of her favourite ways to unwind after a long day of working to improve Vesuvia

However, she’s usually the one providing the wine (seeing as she’s a very wealthy Countess), so nights like this one, where you brought over some of your favourites to share, were rather uncommon

The two of you weren’t particularly tipsy when you accidentally poured a potion into her glass instead of wine— an accident that you immediately recognized when Nadia morphed into an entirely different person in front of your eyes

Nadia herself seemed a bit surprised as well, seeing as the effect of the potion usually left the user with a mild child down their spine

You were quick to point out the error and apologize, but to your confusion Nadia seemed thrilled with the mistake

Blending in with Vesuvia’s population to gain a better understanding of her people was something she had always struggled to do, but you had just handed her the perfect opportunity

Wine forgotten, she grabbed your hand and lead you toward what was sure to be one of the most adventurous nights you had ever had in Vesuvia

[spencerreidsconverse]

When Evil Doesn't Sleep

summary: Spencer has been gone far too long on a case and when he finally returns home, reader shows him just how much she missed him.

word count: 3.4k

warnings: smut, implied dom/sub undertones, pet names

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Female Reader

A/N: My first fic!!! I hope you all enjoy! <3

“Y/n I’m really sorry but it looks like the case is going to take a lot longer than we thought. We had a recent development and the profile is now pointing to a partnership so now we’re hunting down two unsubs”. You sighed as Spencer rattled off his apologies through the phone before putting him out of his misery “Spencer honey, you don’t have to apologize. Quit worrying about me and focus on catching the bad guys.”

To say you missed Spencer would be the understatement of the century. He had been in Utah for six days already and now with a pair of psychos your odds of finding him in your bed by the end of the week were growing increasingly slim. It didn’t help that you had been swamped prepping for an extra class you’d agreed to take on at Georgetown where you worked as a Criminal Psychology professor. Between both of your hectic work schedules you hadn’t had a real weekend to yourselves in a few months, and while you knew when you first started dating Spencer that it was an inevitable of his job, it had never been this crazy before. They say evil never sleeps but lately it hasn't even taken a catnap.

“I love you Y/N. I promise I’ll come home to you soon and take you out on a real date. I’m sorry darling, I have to go. I’ll text you when I get to the hotel tonight and if you’re still up we can talk for a bit okay?”. “Alright Spence, I love you too. Stay safe okay?”. “I promise, goodbye love.”

Your farewell barely made it past your lips when the dial tone cut you off and once again your boyfriend of three years vanished from your side of the country. You let out an exasperated sigh before reminding yourself that there were other people who needed his help and that you could wait for his attention - at least until that night. Continuing the trek up the stairs of your and spencer’s shared apartment, you managed to haphazardly balance your grocery bags in one hand while unlocking the door and disabling the security alarm, internally cringing at the high shriek that rattled through your brain.

Walking through the living room, you sat the bags on your kitchen counter and began reorganizing the small fridge space to fit all the perishables you had brought home, absentmindedly hoping they wouldn't spoil now that it would be just you for several more days. Moving to the cupboard you replaced the few grab and go snack boxes you had made up to try and encourage Spencer to eat more throughout the day and refilled the paper plate stash that quickly became a requirement after you realized neither one of you could tolerate doing dishes every night. You ripped open the cardboard packaging of yet another microwave dinner and set the timer before leaving to change into more comfortable attire.

Opening the door of your shared bedroom, the smell of vanilla wax melts and dryer sheets hit you like a brick and immediately sent a pang of loneliness through your chest. Spencer was usually around by the time the chores needed done, and you rarely had to do them yourself. Unfortunately, the laundry was piling up and you needed something to distract you so you spent the day running errands and cleaning the apartment more thoroughly than necessary. You walked over to the stack of black dresser drawers and pulled out the first pair of pajama pants you touched, Spencer’s old caltech sweats that now fit you far better than him considering he had received them when he was 14. They looked more like capris on him now and it was embarrassingly difficult to convince him to buy a new pair that fit him properly. You slipped on a tank top and pulled your hair back before making your way lazily to the bathroom to take off the remnants of your simple makeup.

After scrubbing your face clean and pulling your dinner out, you moved to ready the couch for yet another night of binge watching cheesy 90s movies. You selected Clueless and watched the vibrant colors pop across the screen while you dived into your meal, making a poor attempt to ignore the slight freezer burnt taste that lingered after every bite. You finished your dinner and set the bowl aside before covering yourself with a blanket and allowing yourself to sink into the cushions, desperately awaiting Spencer's text.

You were jolted out of your doze by the loud buzzing of your phone against the wooden coffee table. Clumsily you reached for it and managed to swipe the answer pad before it sent your genius to voicemail. “Hello?” you managed before a yawn ripped its way through you suddenly. “Hey Y/N, I’m sorry it’s so late. I didn't mean to wake you, I figured you’d still be up. You should go back to bed love.” For the first time, you noticed the neon green numbers on the microwave. 12:30. You stifled another yawn and shook your head in an effort to wake yourself further “No way, I just dozed off while watching a movie. I was waiting to talk to you. Besides, I’m up now anyways so you might as well stay on with me for a bit. Did you get any further today?” “Well, JJ had the idea that the partners were originally a typical dominant/submissive partnership but that something in the dynamic must have changed because the MO began to deteriorate. We think the partners must have split up now, because we’re finding similar pieces of the previous MO at separate crime scenes.”.

You processed the information he fed you slowly due to your semiconscious state but eventually you put your words in order well enough to respond. “That should be helpful though yeah? I mean, they’re used to working in a partnership so being suddenly separated from your other half so to speak would throw you off track quite a bit right?”. You could practically hear him smiling through the phone as you drew the conclusions the team had come to only a few hours prior. “Yes. We’re hoping to be able to draw them out and trap them. Play them against each other.”.”Does that mean I can stop sleeping on the couch soon?”. You heard him let out a dejected sigh - you knew he hated that you would force yourself onto the cramped couch when you had a king sized bed a few hundred feet away but he understood.

When he had come home in the early hours of the morning after an abrupt end to a case a few weeks after you had moved into his place, he had caught you curled up on the sofa with a throw pillow stuffed under your head. When he questioned you about it the next morning, you simply answered that the bed felt too big without him and that you couldn’t stand the empty feeling. “Sooner than later I hope my love. Y/N I really wish you wouldn’t do that to yourself. It’s horrible for your body. It can put you at a much higher risk for chronic back and neck pain as well as-”. “Spence. I’m not a giant like you are. I fit on the couch much better than you do, and I barely notice the difference.”. You both cringed, hearing the lie clear in your voice. Still, Spencer must have felt bad because he humored you. “If you're sure. What did you do today my love?”. You smiled sadly hearing in his voice just how desperate he was to escape from his reality and come home to you.

”Well, I straightened the house. In fact, it’s so clean i think we could use it as a sterilization room.”. He let out a soft chuckle and you could hear him begin to relax as you recounted the rest of your day, excluding the part about the microwave dinner. Spencer loved to tell you how many of the ingredients were one step away from processed garbage and you decided to opt out of the lecture for the evening. He had more than enough to worry about without having to focus on your diet while he was away. After a half hour of light conversation, a loud yawn betrayed you as you were excitedly discussing the cute puppy you had met on the way to the market. Spencer immediately requested that you hang up and get some more sleep but you refused. After a few minutes of bickering, you relented on the condition that he would read to you until you had fallen asleep. You curled up under the fluffy blanket as Spencer’s even voice recited the collection of Grimm’s fairy tales quickly lured you to sleep.

You woke up the next morning as sunlight peered through the curtains, stretching your body out to ease the aches from the previous night. You smiled softly as your screen lit up with a text from Spencer wishing you a good morning and an update that they had a solid plan for boxing in the two unsubs that afternoon. “If all goes to plan I should be carrying you to our bed before midnight tonight.”. Your smile widened and you sent back “Can’t wait to truly see you - and love you- tonight. I’ll be waiting.” You plugged your phone into the charger and straightened up from the night before when your phone went off again. The one word message glared at you from the screen and you let out an involuntary giggle. “Tease.”. You hoped it gave him something to look forward to until he was back in your arms. You sent back a simple “XO” before deciding to reread one of your favorite books for a few hours to kill some time. You made yourself a sandwich for lunch and had a few glasses of water as the clock slowly ticked by. You were over halfway through the lengthy novel when you received another message.

“We apprehended both unsubs. Hotch is postponing the paperwork until Monday so we can go straight home. I’ll see you in a few hours baby.”.  You jumped slightly in celebration before finishing your current chapter, marking your place, and all but skipping to the shower to shave and exfoliate your skin. You knew Spencer would still be heavily worked up once he arrived home and luckily, his favorite release included intertwining your bodies as close as possible and loving you sweetly and slowly.

You took your time in the shower careful not to nick yourself with your razor. You scrubbed your scalp with your nails, letting your stress and soreness melt away under the steam. You waited until the water ran cold before turning the knob and stepping out, wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel and blow drying your hair until it layed perfectly even. You applied lotion all over your skin and stepped out of the bathroom to slip on your black silk robe, knowing it wouldn’t be worth it to dress up further. Spencer would be desperate to feel your skin against his and any fabric in his way didn't stand much of a chance.

You made an actual meal for dinner, a pasta dish with chicken that could be easily reheated for Spencer when he grew hungry later in the night. You helped yourself to a serving and after quickly cleaning up the kitchen and storing the leftovers, you retreated to the bedroom to wait for his return.

You were half paying attention to the feed you opted to scroll through on your phone when you heard the door creak open and bags drop to the floor. You set your phone on the bedside table and ran towards the foyer, all but throwing yourself at the exhausted man in front of you. He took a step back from the impact but still enveloped you in his arms and pulled you impossibly tight into his chest. “Hi baby.” you whispered against the scruffy skin of his jawline, peppering kisses up towards his earlobe. He let out a long sigh of relief and picked you up off the hardwood floor, wrapping your thighs around his waist resulting in a high pitched giggle to erupt from your throat. He kissed you then, slowly at first but quickly building more passionate. Your lungs were burning when he finally allowed you to pull away, opting to kiss down your neck to your collarbones and the skin of your chest that was newly exposed as your robe slipped open.

He carefully made his way back to your room, continuing his kisses back up to your shoulder, stopping only to leave marks you knew would only grow darker as time passed. At the very least he was sure to only mark you in places you could cover with little difficulty. “I missed you so much Y/N. The entire ride home all I could think about was you waiting for me in our bed. My gorgeous girl.”. You felt your chest heat up at his words of admiration, wrapping your fingers into his curls and pulling his lips towards your own once more.

You felt him groan against you and moved to quickly unbutton his shirt, slipping it down his arms and tossing it in the general direction of the hamper. He pulled you up with him then, so you were both on your knees, chest to chest as he pulled your robe fully down your back to the swell of your ass where he grasped at you through the slick fabric. You let out a whine and you pulled his belt off, undoing his jeans desperate to continue. He grinned against your neck and pushed you down so you laid flat on your back, completely exposed to him. He kissed at your stomach, making his way down to your inner thighs. He licked a slow wet trail from your pelvic bone to the top of your clit as you whimpered desperately. “Spence, please… I need more”. He humored you, creating slow small circles with his tongue moaning at the taste. You cried out as he created the perfect amount of pressure on your clit, legs threatening to close around his head when he moved to slip one of his fingers easily inside you as the mix of your own wetness and his saliva aided him. He smirked as he felt your thighs flex before using his left hand to throw one of your legs over his shoulders at a time. He pushed a second finger in, curling them up to perfectly reach your g-spot with every thrust. Soon though, you grew impatient with just his fingers. You needed more and you knew just how to get it.

“I want you so bad Spence. I’ve waited for so long and I just can’t anymore. I need to feel you deep inside of me.”. You were positive those words would leave him just as needy as you were and he proved you right when he kicked his pants the rest of the way off and went to line himself up against you. “Wait.”. He stopped immediately, examining your face for any indication of what was wrong. “What’s the matter baby? Are you okay?”. You shook your head and smiled at his concern before switching your positions so his back was resting against the pillows as you straddle his thighs. He smirked at you as he caught on, trailing his hands up the front of your legs to rest at your hips. “You gonna ride me angel?”. You responded with an eager nod and he squeezed your hips, pulling you up further so you were hovering above him. “Sit pretty like my good girl then.”. You whined softly at his words before slowly sinking yourself down around his length, sucking in a harsh breath at the stretch. Even with how wet you were, the adjustment took longer than usual due to the dry spell you were both suffering from as of late.

When you finally felt stretched out enough to move, you slowly ground your hips forward flush against his. He groaned out, lifting you back up so you were almost completely off of him before pulling you back down. You moaned both at the sensation and the idea of being manhandled by the genius below you. You realized what he was asking though, and began bouncing yourself up and down his cock, stopping every few thrusts to grind your clit down on him. You let out soft moans, and after a few more minutes you felt his fingers dig deeper into your hips and his breaths quicken. You knew he was close and as if on cue you started rubbing fast circles against your clit as he spoke again.

“Baby girl I’m getting close. You gonna cum with me angel?” You nodded furiously in response and you felt him start thrusting up to meet you. You panted as you hurried towards the edge of your orgasm, holding on until his thrusts grew sloppier. “You ready to cum with me baby? You gonna cum on my cock?” “Yeah.. gonna cum all over your cock Doc.” You fought to keep the grin off your face when he moaned at the title. He thrusted deep into you twice, before he ordered your release. “I want you to cum now baby. Cum all over my cock.” You felt your orgasm rip through you, electricity shooting through your limbs. Spencer groaned loudly as you tightened around him before pulling you down deep and releasing inside you.

You both fought to catch your breath as you rode out your highs before you found yourself slumping against his chest, suddenly drained from your activities. You felt him chuckle at your drastic change in energy as he wrapped his arms around you again. “I know you just washed the bed sheets and we’re both sweaty but do you think a washcloth will suffice for tonight?”. You nodded against his chest before slowly lifting yourself up and off of him, rolling onto your back on the other side of the bed. Spencer swiftly made his way across the hall, returning to wipe you down gently with the warm fabric. You shivered as the cool air dried your skin, watching him move throughout your room.

He slipped on a fresh pair of boxers before tossing the washcloth in the hamper along with his previously discarded clothes. He hung your robe on the back of your bedroom door then flipped the light switch off before rejoining you in bed to slip under the blankets with you. You immediately curled up into his chest, sighing contently as the sound of his heartbeat filled your ears. You kissed his chest and whispered goodnight, drifting into your first real sleep since before he left.

The next morning you and Spencer went shopping after you successfully convinced him to upgrade to a smart phone with video call abilities. He had begun to shut down the idea as he always had before but after the mere suggestion of what it could do to better your late night hotel room chats he was the one pulling you towards the nearest phone shop. You smiled politely while Spencer took his sweet time weighing the pros and cons of each model, letting your mind drift to the first time it would come in handy. As you finally neared the checkout counter, you took Spencer's hand in your own and gave it a gentle squeeze. After running his card through the machine, the salesgirl gave him the small plastic bag and wished you both a good afternoon.

As you exited the shop, you looked up at him, nudging him to get his attention “What do you think of an app controlled vibrator?”. He stared at you incredulously for a few moments, almost stopping dead in his tracks. After recovering from the initial shock at the vulgarity of your suggestion, he shook his head with a soft smirk and nudged back against you. “Tease.” he called you once more. “That’s the reason you love me right?”. He pulled you into his side, kissing you softly. “One of many Y/N. One of many.”

[k3rm1e]

heyo!! i was wondering if you would mind writing hc’s for a reader who just had a major accomplishment but their parents don’t really congratulate them or anything, and then philza celebrates with them instead and tells reader how proud he is. i kinda want some dadza comfort rn :’) anyway, thank you sm!! have a great day <3

accomplishments

heyo!! i was wondering if you would mind writing hc’s for a reader who just had a major accomplishment but their parents don’t really congratulate them or anything, and then philza celebrates with them instead and tells reader how proud he is. i kinda want some dadza comfort rn :’) anyway, thank you sm!! have a great day <3

hello anon! i’m sorry i took a while to answer this. i went a bit off track with this and got A LOT more angsty, so i’m really sorry about that. If you want me to make a much more fluffier or mellowed-out version, i’d be happy to. please, read the trigger warnings before reading this.

i don’t plan on writing more angst-y things like this, especially not this angsty, so don’t worry. once again, please, if you would like me to rewrite this into a less emotional version i’d be happy to

cw: swearing

tw: talk of god and the church, slight manipulation, repetition of words

accomplishments:

  holy shit. you were in disbelief. a state of shock. one million twitch followers. one. million. followers. you were silent. shock can have many effects on a person. some scream and laugh out of joy, or a misplaced sense of mania. others cry, because they cannot handle it. some remain confused, because their brains are unable to conceptualize the event. you were silent.

  what should you do? would a “thank you” tweet be good enough or would it come off as insincere? should you wait to stream? or would that make people feel you didn’t care because you took so long? through the anxiety you could feel the true realization that you now had one million followers. like a truck, you were hit with the most excited feeling ever. getting up, you jumped around your room. you spun and jumped and cheered and whooped and yelled and smiled and danced and were overflowing with joy, with the acknowledgement that you had done it, you had really fucking done it. 

  opening the window above your desk, without a single fuck, you screamed. “WHOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! FUCK YEAH!!!!!!” let’s just hope your neighbors don’t wake up.

  you stayed up all night, celebrating. tweeting out a thank you, you received congratulations from your fans and friends while you talked with the people in your discord vcs.

  in the morning, your mother and father had woken up. with a newfound determination, you ran downstairs. streaming was your passion and you wanted to tell the world what you had done. but, because of limitations, your mother was your metaphorical world.

  “mom! mom! mom! mother, mother, mumther!!” you shouted, dashing down the stairs, tripping over your feet. stupid wood flooring and slidy socks.

  from your place at the bottom of the stairs, you heard her sigh, “yes, sweetie?”

  you bounded over to her, setting your arms on the kitchen counter. from the hallway you could see your dad, who was sitting on the couch drinking his sunday morning coffee. “mom! guess what?” without giving her time to respond, you shouted, “i hit one million follows on twitch! one freaking million!”.

  your mother didn’t seem as enthusiastic as you. “is that why you were causing such a ruckus last night? and, watch your mouth, even though ‘freaking’ isn’t a ‘true’ curse, i don’t want you swearing. especially not on the lord’s day. i couldn’t fathom going to church everyday, only to allow you to have a mouth like that.” she continued to stare at her work papers.

  “oh, uh, okay mother. dad? did you hear me? i hit one million on twitch.” you awkwardly turned your head over to your father.

  “she’s right, you know that, don’t you sweetie?” your father stood up, and made his way into the kitchen. “language like that, it’s shameful. surely, we don’t need you to have a private session with father paulson, do we?” your dad stood next to your mother, rubbing her back as he stared at you.

  “no, no, of course not. um, i’m gonna go upstairs now.” you turned around, wishing you could simply disappear.

  “without breakfast? are you truly that upset with us? we can’t have you ending up like those people, committing sinful acts and going to hell. god would never forgive you. we’re already taking a risk allowing you to stream, putting yourself out there.”

  both your mother and father stared at you. your blood felt like ice in your veins. the white walls of your house seemed so much brighter, yet duller at the same time. everything felt a white-pure-pink-orange. your breathing got uneasy. choppy. in, out, out, in, in, in, out, in, in, out, out for different increments of time. 5, 3, 2, 7, 10, 9, 6, 4, 1, 6, 8, seconds, over and over and over.

  “we just wanna protect you, dear. we love you, don’t you get that?” your mother stared at you.

  you felt like a scene in those movies. the ones that directly cater to teens who thought their lives were shit when in reality they just hadn’t grown up enough to make sense of something yet. were you one of those teens? or is this actually wrong. you don’t think it is, but you don’t talk to others about this. family matters stay in the family was a common phrase repeated in your household. the church was family, they could know. your mother and father, they could know. others, they must not know, never know.

  “of course, mother, father.” you wanted to force yourself to speak, but syllables were incapable of getting past your lips. your mouth was full of peanut butter from the sandwiches served in your elementary school cafeteria. but, the partly frozen chocolate milk always washed it down. “of course. i love you guys too. love you.” you smiled, a disgusting smile that felt violating to exist on your face, violating, violating, violating.

  you dashed up the stairs, to your room, up, up, up. running in, you wanted to slam the door, scream out the window, puch your pillow, smash your pc, cry, whatever you could do to get out your emotions. but instead, you lightly shut your door and slowly walked over to your desk chair to see who was online. you would go live later. it was only 5 AM, after all. they could wait. at least, you hoped they could.

  opening discord, just to see what everyone was doing, you saw philza minecraft was online. you went over and messaged him, ‘phil. philza. philza minecraft. vc please?’ in response, you received a short, ‘sure m8, gimme a minute’ you waited, until you heard the noise confirming he had joined.

  “good morning phil.” your energy from before had receded back into the confines of your chest. the prior excitement was gone and replaced with a feeling of fatigue.

  “morning mate, how are you? congrats on the one mill!” phil sounded excited, happy for you. you smiled, chuckling a bit.

  “i’m alright man, just tired. how are you? and, thanks for the congrats.” you smiled, feeling the fatigue set in.

  “i’m good. but you, you don’t sound very good. couldn’t sleep, could ya’? that was how i was when i hit one mill. way too excited to sleep.”

  “yeah. yeah, i’m just tired.” you were getting a bit too tired to talk. the day had barely started, and yet the full-body emotional exhaustion had set.

  “‘just tired’? the hell happened kid?” phil’s voice sounded concerned. fuck. the last thing you wanted to do was worry him. he had his own life and you had already caused enough trouble today.

  “it’s nothing big phil, seriously. just my parents.” there, a slight bit of information. family matters still within the family, just a few words.

  “they being shitbirds? or are you lying, and something big did happen?” he was being inquisitive, which was dangerous. questions were dangerous.

  “no, why would i lie?” his inquisitiveness would continue, you knew. so you spilled the metaphorical beans. “they just, just weren’t as supportive as i’d wished they were when i told them. i was really psyched, y’know? and them, just sort of, not giving a shit? i don’t know man, it just feels bad.”

  “i get you. it’s shit, when people don’t care about your accomplishments. my parents never really saw streaming as a true profession in the beginning, which led to shit like you describing. i promise it gets better though, even if it feels like shit now. and, for what it’s worth, i’m proud of you.”

  “it’s fine phil, you don’t need to try to make me feel better. i’m okay, seriously.” you didn’t need or want his pity. accepting it would feel patronizing.

  “no, you need to understand that i’m not fucking around. one million is a big fuckin’ thing, especially for you who hasn’t been streaming all that long to achieve. it’s fucking amazing, mate. be proud of yourself, for christ’s sake.” his fake anger chimed through your headphones. even though you were being berated, you still felt better.

  “thank you, phil. i needed that.”

  “your welcome, mate. and look, anytime your parents are being shit, don’t try to hold it all in. call me, or wil, or someone, okay? don’t hold that shit in.”

  you fake sighed, just to piss him off. “okayyyyyy….”

  “good. now, go take a nap or some shit. i love you, kid.”

  “love you too, dadza.” this time, your words didn’t feel forced. the smile on your face wasn’t violating, but an invitation to better times. it would be alright. okay.

[fandomness--randomness]

Not so Hard Run Ins {Reiner Braun x Reader}

Warnings: none, just fluff and embarrassing stuff lol

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: You just wanted to return a shirt Marco had lended you, instead you found yourself face to face with your longtime crush.... or rather face to chest.

inspired by this tiktok

Anyways - I love Reiner and his hella mommy milkers (I've loved this hoe since season 1, I am the ultimate Reiner simp)

Sasha let out a long groan as she stretched her arms high above her head. Her joints cracked and popped as she did so. “Gah! I’m so hungry!” She whined.

“Please - you’re hungry all the time.” You chuckled softly, landing a light punch across Sasha’s arm. The girl overreacted, splayed herself across the porch banister and placed the back of her hand across her forehead like some kind of damsel in distress.

“Oh woe is me! I have been slain!” She cried out.

Connie, who was walking from the training field with Jean and Marco, quickly joined in on the antics. He laid himself across the banister next to Sasha in a similar fashion and began to lament of their shared demise. Something about how if Sasha, his partner in crime and fellow prankster, died - he too would die of heartbreak and boredom.

Rolling your eyes, you walk into the cafeteria with Marco as Jean attempts to pull them out of their improve scene.

“When those two start acting up, I can’t help but feel old.” You muttered as you snatched a plate of whatever mediocre slop they had been feeding the training corps the last three years and some stale bread.

Marco chuckled. “Come on (Y/N), don’t say that. You’re only a few years older than us. It’s not like you’re some old lady who can barely walk.” He sat down on the bench gently while you plopped down without a care.

Rolling your shoulder, you scoffed. “I sure feel like it with all this hand to hand combat lately. I just want to get back to ODM training already.”

Two more, much taller figures than you and Marco sat down across from you with their own meals.

“Well now, if you’re an old lady does that make Bertholdt and I old men?” Reiner joked before taking a bite of his bread. “We’re the same age after all.” He added, sending you a soft smile.

Clenching your fist under the table, you turned your gaze to your dinner and fought back the oncoming heat to your cheeks. You’re not sure when it happened - but along the path of tough,constant training and awkward teenage development, you found yourself in love with the muscular blond. You didn’t think much of him at first, thinking he was just like the other stupid boys from your village that showed off their muscles in an attempt to woo girls like you and your friends.

But that idea began to crumble when his brotherly nature was revealed and he offered a helping hand to the other cadets when they needed it. The misconception was practically destroyed the day he offered to carry you back to camp after you had rammed right into a tree while using ODM gear. You had originally wanted to curse out Eren for being overly cocky and nearly crashing into you, which caused you to overcorrect and smash into the tree - but the feeling of Reiner’s muscular back against your chest was just too distracting. That night you practically ran to bed in an embarrassed mess.

Tonight would no doubt be the same if Reiner continued to joke around with you.

Shoveling some food into your mouth, you leaned onto the table with your elbows and pointed the old spoon at Reiner. “I’m - what - 3 months older than you? I’ve practically got years of wisdom on you.”

Reiner laughed at your remark just as the rest of your friends joined the table - Sasha and Connie sporting reddened ears and Jean nearly having a vein in his forehead pop.

Smiling at your fellow cadets, you let yourself fall into the flow of conversation. And although you loved and appreciated all your friends, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over to Reiner every once in a while.

Thankfully, there was no after dinner training - so the cadets had a few hours of freetime until the lights went out. This gave you the chance to finally get around to cleaning your laundry and refreshing your ODM gear.

While others found doing laundry to be a pain Sasha, you found the rhythmic pattern to be soothing and comfortable. Because of this, more than often, you would do laundry for yourself and few of your friends.

Popping your head into the giant dorm room, you called out to the rest of the girls. “Hey, does anyone need their laundry done? I want to get it done before it gets dark so give it to me now if you want.” Most of the girls shook their head, thanking you for the offer, but some of the others handed off small baskets of clothes and bedsheets.

“Thank you so much (Y/N)!” Christa exclaimed.

You smiled back at her. “It’s no problem. This way they'll be able to dry overnight if need be.”

Walking back outside with a few more baskets of laundry, you set to work. It was the height of summer and the sun was still beating down on the poor training corps. Thankfully, it hadn’t rained in some time so there was no lingering humidity that would prolong the drying process.

It was so hot and dry that your first round of laundry was done drying by the time you finished washing the entire load. Pulling the dry laundry off of the pins, you brought them inside and to their appropriate owners before going to the equipment building to clean and polish your ODM gear.

By the time you returned to the hanging clothes, the sun was starting to set.

You smiled in victory at the realization that all of the laundry had dried. Setting everything in the appropriate baskets, you lugged the now clean clothes and bedsheets inside. The girls who had taken up your offer thanked you again as they readied themselves for bed.

Taking your own basket to your bed (thank god for having the bottom bunk) you began to unload and fold the laundry. All was normal until you came across a large navy blue shirt. It was certainly too big to be yours and you didn’t own anything like this.

Then you remembered. Slapping a hand across your forehead, you let out a long sigh.

The week prior, Sasha had knocked you right into the mud during some after dinner training. Thankfully Marco and Jean were watching the two of you, so being the kind soul he was, Marco rushed into his dorm and grabbed an extra shirt for you to change into quickly.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you glanced out the window. The sun had set, but the torches outside and lights inside the other buildings were still lit.

Turning to Mikasa, you asked, “do you think I have enough time to return this shirt to Marco? Before lights out?”

The ravenette glanced at you, the shirt, outside the window, and then back to you. She nodded lightly. “Yeah, I think it’s safe. The sun set only a few minutes ago. Lights shouldn’t be called for another 30 minutes.”

Letting out a breath of relief, you jogged out the door and called out a thanks to Mikasa for her stable judgment.

It wasn’t uncommon for cadets to go back and forth between the dorms despite their gender. You and Sasha were often found invading Jean and Connie’s space to beg them to play cards with you two and Marco. Eren and Armin always seemed to be calling for Mikasa to come hang out with them too. But that was when the sun was out.

Going to the others’ dormitory building when the sun had already set was sort of...taboo among cadets, even if it was technically allowed.

No one just wanted to walk into the dorms when the chance of walking into the other cadets changing or even bathing were at its peak. But this was just a quick trip in and out. You’d be fine.

Slipping into the boys dormitory hall, you started the familiar trek to the dorm room Marco was in. It was practically ingrained into your head at this point (not to mention that the dorm buildings’ layouts were the exact same). You expected to run in and run out - no issues.

That was until you turned a corner and came face first with a wall. At least that’s what you would’ve thought if the wall didn’t let out a surprised grunt.

Horror flooded through your veins as you realized your cheek was pressed right against someone’s bare chest, the heat of their skin radiating across your face. Glancing up, that horror doubled - no, tripled - in size.

You hadn’t just ran into some random boy. No - you had just ran right into Reiner Braun, who was only clad in a towel around his waist with skin still damp from his shower.

The red blush you had pushed back at dinner came back full force. The two of you stared at each other for a moment in surprise. Reiner’s own blush spread across his cheeks and ears.

“He’s really warm.” You thought. “And a lot more muscular than I thought. Yet his chest is so soft. I feel like I could fall asleep on it.” You stared at his deep hazel eyes. “I really want to run my hands across his chest. Does he have abs too? Oh what I would do to be able to let my hands wander down furth-”

A droplet of water from Reiner’s hair dripped onto your nose.

“THIS IS FOR MARCO PLEASE GIVE IT TO HIM!” You screamed, shoving the now wrinkled shirt into Reiner’s chest.

Not waiting for a response, you turned onto your heel and ran out of the dorm practically screaming - a high pitched whine and curses following your wake. You didn’t stop until you had your face planted into the mattress and body huddled in blankets.

Your entire body was on fire as your friends questioned what had happened. Some were more worried, like Christa; while others immediately thought the worst may have happened like Mikasa and Sasha. Eventually, when you kept shaking your head and refused to come out of your blankets, your friend retired to their beds. All except Sasha, who sat next to you, swinging her legs back and forth as she waited.

Peeking out of the blanket, you looked up at her.

“I did something so embarrassing, Sash.”

[theonewiththefanfics]

Black Ice (one-shot)

Synopsis: Black ice is considered one of the most dangerous winter weather phenomenon. It appears after it’s rained or snow has melted and then the rapidly cooling air freezes it, leaving it as a shiny black mirror on the ground.  A deadly shiny black mirror. 

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: swearing, mentions of hospitals and injuries

Word count: 8852

“God, Harry, it’s just one night!” Y/N exasperated, throwing her hands in the air. “One fucking night I wanna go out with my friends and have some fun. Is that really too much to ask?”

        “I haven’t seen you in two months!” he snapped back. “So, please fucking forgive me that I wanna spend a night in with my girlfriend and have her say ‘no’ one time, and make me a priority. Is it so hard to reschedule?”

        “Yes, Harry it is!” Y/N stood her ground. “Adam and I have been talking about this for three weeks before we could set a date and meet up. He fucking flew out here! To London! And it’s not my fault you haven’t been home in two months, so don’t put that on me.”

        “No,” he shook his head pointing a finger at her. “Don’t pull that shit on me. You knew about my job, you know how it can be, how much I have to travel.”

        “I get that, and I’d get your anger if I was fucking off with my friends on our anniversary without any notice or some shit, but I’m not! I made these plans ages ago. I told you about them! How could I have known you’d decide to ‘surprise’ me a week early?”

        But the thing for Harry was – he did think there was an anniversary to celebrate. It wasn’t an official one, and he hadn’t told Y/N how much the date meant, but that day was the day they’d met a year prior.

***

        He was in the middle of filming ‘Darling Don’t Worry’. This time they'd flown out of California to shoot a scene in the middle of the woods, in the cold of November, which as exciting as it was to have his acting career flourish, Harry wasn't too happy about freezing his ass off in the middle of nowhere.

Y/N, however, lived right next to those woods, her family house having been there for generations, while the location scouts of the movie had chosen the location because the aesthetic could double as the location of the woods behind the mansion.

        Y/N’d been out on her daily run (well, daily complaining because Y/N, with all her being, hated running, and thought it was a sign you were a masochist. But her best friend Adam loved running and hated going alone, so he bribed her with the promise of pizza afterwards), when they’d run into pitched white tents, filming equipment and barriers encasing a part of the path they were on.

        Adam’s eyebrows furrowed as he slowed his pace, and Y/N thanked god for that because she felt like she was about to pass out.

        “What’s going on here?”

        “Dunno,” Y/N huffed. “But we should probably leave.”

        But instead, Adam grabbed her by the bicep, dragging her forward to the set. “Nope. Come on.”

        “Adam!” she hissed. “What the fuck are you – “

        “Hi!” He flashed a woman standing by the railing a smile. “Could you-uh-tell us what’s going on? Why’s the path blocked?”

        “A movie’s being filmed. Sorry for the disturbance.”

        “Mhm, and when do you think you’ll be leaving?”

        That she hadn’t expected, given how typically when people saw a movie set, they’d be more than intrigued in getting into a shot or finding out about who were the stars, not when they’d be going away.

        “Oh, uh,” she stammered. “I’m not too sure. Depends if the snow starts falling and how much we manage to shoot. Sorry. But uh, would you be so kind and find a path around?”

        Y/N jumped in, flashing her a kind smile. “Yes, thank you. So sorry to have disturb –“

        “You do realise this is a public place?” Adam raised an eyebrow. “We have a right to be here.”

        “Adam, shut up,” Y/N groaned. “We can run around them, it’s not a big deal.”

        “But this is our route!”

        “Adam for fuck’s sake! It’s the woods, you don’t own them!”

        “Exactly!” he said. “And neither do they! They have no rights to infringe on our ability to get to the sea.”

        That’s when Harry had noticed her, and to this day Y/N had no clue as to why he’d fallen for her. He was conversing with Florence about the upcoming scene when his ears caught the very end of the conversation, green eyes snapping to where two people in running tracksuits stood.

        One of them was a tall burly man, muscles practically ripping apart his clothes at the seams, the other was a shorter woman, hands-on-hips, hair kept away by a headband which also covered her ears, and the most done expression on her face as she glared at her companion.

        They were talking with a nervous assistant; Harry could see by her stature and how her head kept snapping to the side in hopes of finding someone above her to deal with the two strangers.

        “Adam, I swear to god, I’ll punch you." Harry heard the woman exclaim. "Leave the girl alone! We can run around.”

        “But I –“

        “Adam!”

        “Fine,” he grumbled as he threw the assistant and apologetic look. “Sorry.”

        “ ‘S okay. Have my preferred cycling route as well, so yeah… Sorry.”

        Harry watched as the woman next to the person, Adam, shook her head and gestured to where the barriers curved around, starting up on a slow jog, and when they passed where he was standing by the trailers, he could hear them still arguing. 

        “Oh my god,” Harry heard her whisper while looking at the ground. “I’m friends with a fucking Karen.”

        “I am NOT a – you’re Harry Fucking Styles!” Adam shouted so hard, it startled Y/N, and when she looked over, it was like a deer in headlights before relaxing and both of them slowed their pace.

        “Sorry,” she gave him an awkward glance. “He’s a fan, but we’ll be going and stop bothering you...”

        “No, no,” Harry shook his head, putting his hands in his coat’s pockets and smiling. “ ‘S alright, you’re no bother. I’m always happy to talk to a fan.”

        “Yes, well, don’t encourage him. Soon enough, you’ll be besties, and Adam here’ll be turning your life into absolute chaos.”

        He scoffed looking down at his friend. “I’d like to think I’m taking you out of your boring routine, Y/N, and giving it some spice.”

        “Anyway,” she gritted out. “It was lovely to meet you, but uh, we should probably be on our way. You have to be somewhere.”

        Y/N’s eyes glanced over Harry’s shoulder, where a nervous AD stood, bouncing on her feet, a weary smile on her face as she caught the singer’s eyes and motioned with her head he was needed back on set.

        Harry nodded and wanted to turn back to tell the two to come by whenever they wanted (well mainly Y/N), but when he turned around, the two were already quite a few feet away. Just as he was about to leave, he heard Y/N shout, “Congratulations on the three Grammy nominations, by the way. ‘Fine Line’ was amazing.”

        “And that’s a compliment!” Adam hollered jogging backwards. “She only listens to shit from the early 2000s.”

        “Adam, shut up!”

        With that, Harry was left to watch the two disappear behind the trees, a feeling he was quite familiar with settling in his chest.

        It was three days later, when he saw Y/N approaching the set barriers, hands in her pockets, as she rolled her neck. Their eyes met, and even, from the distance, he could see her smile split apart her face, but when she just waved without the intention of coming any closer to the lot, Harry rushed to the side calling out to her. “Hey!” 

        “Hey!” Y/N responded chuckling and ducking her head down. “You alright?”

        “ ‘M alive. How ‘bout you? You doin’ fine?’”

        “The bar’s so low?”

        “I guess. Won’t be able to get you to nurse me back to health though, which is why I’m in the cold again.”

        She wiggled her eyebrows at Harry. “If you wanted to see me, there's no need to lose limbs or bits of yourself.”

        Harry hadn’t expected her to be so upfront, but he couldn’t lie and say he didn’t like it. Made it easier for him to understand if his advances were welcome or if he should back off. “So uh, no Adam today?”

        “No, he has a late shift at work. Which means I’m spared from the running.”

        “Not a fan?” he looked at her with a quirked brow, seemingly saying ‘you’re sure dressed like you are’.

        “Do I look like someone who likes stabbing pain in her side and having her heart ripped out of her chest?

        “You’re just not breathing properly.”

        Y/N sighed. “If one of you gives me any more advice about how to properly run when I don’t even want to run, I swear I’ll stab you.”

        “Okay!” he threw his hands up in surrender, laughing. “No more talk about running if I wanna keep my head on my shoulders. Where are you uh going? You don’t have to answer, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

        Y/N squealed on the inside, but bit her lip to keep the grin away. She’d been dying to talk to Harry since they’d briefly met but had no real reason. Not that she had one now, but she’d had a horrible day at work and needed to clear her head, and what was better than the forest air (also she could scream there without anyone really caring). “You’re not, so don’t worry. I’m uh I’m going to the sea.”

        Harry’s eyebrows rose. “There’s sea nearby?”

        “You’re like a fifteen-minute walk away from it,” she chuckled, stuffing her hands in her coat’s pockets. “Should really be more aware of your surroundings.”

        “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

        Y/N tilted her head. “Yeah, you’re kind of right. But it’s places like these where you can find the best spots.”

        “Will you show me then?”

        She looked at him with an unreadable expression, and he could only hope his nervousness wasn’t as apparent, because Harry was more than convinced his erratically beating heart could be heard miles away. But then she nodded, giving him a wide grin, making one of his own bloom on his face. 

“You sure you won’t freeze on your way there?” she said in a sarcastic tone eyeing him up and down, and Harry shoved her a bit.   

        He donned one of the standard down-jackets issued for the movie with winter boots, but given the costume underneath, he was chilled to the bone. “It’s bloody cold, and my toes are freezing off. How are you still standing?”

        “Insulated shoes and thermal clothes. Kinda boiling actually.”

        “I should steal ‘em.” He smiled at her. “Probably have frostbite by now.”

        “Wow, you people from the South UK really are weak.”

        Harry’s gasp made her smile as wide as a Cheshire cat. “How dare you!” He dramatically placed a hand on his chest, Y/N’s laughter erupting through the air. It cut through the yells and shouts from the filming crew, and made a warmth spread in his chest. “How do you know about the South versus North? You don’t sound like you’re from the UK.”

        “Studied there for three years; had loads of flatmates from all around, let alone course mates.” Y/N chuckled and shook her head. “And to say that I thrived on the chaos  was when you said North was better than the South would be an understatement.”

        “Well, I guess I know where your loyalties lie.”

        “Did you expect me to immediately swoon over you?” Y/N batted her eyelashes at him. “Oh, Mr Harry Styles. Your voice in ‘Kiwi’ was so good it fucked me to cloud nine. Will you please do that to me with your dick instead? Which you should take as a compliment again, considering kiwi is the only thing I’m allergic to.”

        “Wait,” he looked at her, eyebrows up to the middle of his forehead. “So you have heard my stuff?”

        “Well, I don’t live completely under a rock. I did say 'Fine Line' was amazing.”

        “But you don’t really like it?”

        Y/N shook her head. “ ‘S not that I don’t like yours or other pop stuff, ‘s just that I have a preference, and I guess it’s, as Adam said, ‘early 2000s shit’.”

        A sly smile appeared on Harry’s face. “But could that include by any chance 'One Direction'?”

        “Afraid not,” Y/N sighed giving him a pout. “When you came onto the scene, my heart was already taken by a boyband. And I can be a lot of things, but I most definitely a loyal bitch.”

        “One band at a time kind of gal?”

        “Exactly.” She beamed. God Harry had never wanted to kiss a person that bad. 

        “Duly noted, but I will need to know who they are, and how many graves do I have to dig? You know, for research purposes.”

        “Going method now?”

        “What’dya mean?”

        Y/N shrugged sniffling a bit from the frosty weather. “Looked up a little bit about the movie. Need to know what kind of people might be around in the area. Psychological thriller. Wife. Rich husband. A dark secret. My guess – someone’s dead and buried. Also, the huge pit we walked past was kind of a give-away.”

        He paused for a second before nodding. “Fair enough.”

        A comfortable silence fell between the two as Y/N motioned with her head to where they needed to turn and made their way onto a new path when she spoke. “ ‘S not that I wasn’t a fan,” Y/N shrugged glancing at Harry from the side. “The songs were really catchy, but I guess I got tired of them? Like they were on the radio so much, it was a relief I didn’t have to hear the five of you singing about how I don’t know I’m beautiful.”

        Harry threw his head back in a laugh. “Don’t worry. Sometimes we’d get sick of it ourselves. But umm, ‘Fine Line’… You said you liked it… Do ya’ have a favourite song?”

        Y/N cringed. “Is it cliché if I say ‘Golden’? Because it’s ‘Golden’. I’m a sucker for a slow and then a ‘bam!’ kind of an opening.”

        Harry shook his head. Now he was the one biting back a grin. “ ‘S not cliché. Was one of my favourites to write, so I’m glad you appreciate it.”

        “Also, it makes me feel sunny? If that makes sense? Like – like when I listen to it, I feel warm and safe and just happy...”

        He’d be lying if he said his heart wasn’t pounding in his chest at her words. Warm. Safe. Sunny. “Well,” Harry cleared his throat to keep the words ‘One day I’ll marry you’ at bay. Fuck, he'd only known her for like twenty minutes! “I’m glad you like it more than my previous stuff.”

        “You just love putting me in uncomfortable situations, don’t you?”

        He smiled, nudging her shoulder with his, and was just about gearing up to take a breath and ask Y/N out (before he could ask to marry her), when quick steps from behind him drew their attention. 

        Dressed in a typical 50s housewife dress with a black coat on top, Florence Pugh came to stand beside them, and Harry swore he saw mischief twinkle in her eyes as she raked them over both people and then settled on Harry’s companion.

        “Hi!” she said giving Y/N a bright smile, and a wink to Harry, which passed the other girl’s head, given how she was absolutely fangirling right now. “I’m Florence.”

        “I – yeah – I – you – I love you,” Y/N finally breathed out. “Fuck, I just, you know, 'Midsommar' was a fever dream, but I absolutely loved it, and I can’t wait for 'Black Widow' to come out. Oh my god, I think I’m gonna pass out.”

        “Please don’t.” She laughed grabbing onto Y/N’s shoulder. “Feels like I already know you, but I’ve been dying to meet you actually. Created quite the commotion yesterday.”

        You know how they say men can think of absolutely nothing, like have a completely blank page in their head? Yeah, Y/N was having that exact moment. 

        Florence tutted crossing her arms over her chest and looking at Harry with mock disappointment. “But Harry here just kept talking about you, without any intention of inviting you to the trailers, so I had to take things into my own hands.”

        “You’ve been wanting to meet me?” Y/N breathed out, hands going into her hair, looking at Harry. “Oh my god, what is happening? Am I hallucinating?”

        “No, you’re not,” Harry grumbled glaring at Florence. “Unfortunately. But we were on our way to the sea, so I’ll see you back on se-“

        “Hello there,” Chris Pine’s smooth voice interrupted them, as he extended a hand for Y/N to shake as he jogged up to the trio. “I’m Chris.”

        “Wow, your eyes are even bluer in real life.” Her own Y/E/C ones widened. “Did I just say that out loud?”

        “You did,” Chris chuckled, “but I most certainly take it as a compliment. You said you were going to the sea?”

        “Uh, yeah,” Y/N breathed out still gazing into Pine’s eyes. “Wanna join?”

        Harry wanted to scream, but he couldn’t really. As much he wanted to tell both Florence and Chris to go away, he didn't. Seeing Y/N’s eyes light up as the two other actors conversed with her, laughed and joked around, made his heart expand.

        It was insane to him, that a woman he’d seen twice in his life could have such a huge impact. It was like she’d been his missing part. Well, no. Harry didn’t like that notion – that the ‘right’ person would complete someone. People were complete on their own, but it was true to him that there was someone out there that’d make each and every moment special, someone who would help the other become better, but also hold them accountable when needed. 

        They wandered around the seashore, which like Y/N had said, was a fifteen-minute walk, for about half an hour before turning back to the woods.

        By that point, she’d somewhat calmed down, and could actually comprehend what Chris and Florence were saying to her, and it was rather enjoyable to ask all the questions about Hollywood and the industry most people wouldn’t say on the record. 

        At around four PM when all of them got back to set and Olivia came to tell them they were wrapping up for the day, Florence, and Chris split from Y/N, telling her to come by whenever she wanted, while Harry said he’d walk her to the end of the trail.

        “You know I’ll be fine. I grew up here, know these paths like the back of my hand.”

        “ ‘S alright,” he shrugged his shoulders. “I’m sure they won’t mind much if I come back ten minutes later.”

        “You know, you’re not how I thought you’d be.”

        “What’dya mean?”

        “I – I don’t even really know… just not how I imagined you.”

        Harry didn’t know what to really do with that information, but the look on Y/N’s face most definitely didn’t seem like she meant it in a bad way. In fact, her shy smile and fleeting glances told him otherwise. At least he hoped he read her features right.

        They said goodbye with soft ‘see you laters' and he watched her throw one last glance at him over her shoulder before he himself retreated and ventured to the trailers to start de-shedding the character of Jack for the night.

        Harry plopped down in his seat with a groan, fishing out his phone from the pocket while the hair and make-up team did their work, taking the products off his face before applying moisturiser to the stressed skin.

        Florence poked him in the cheek, and he swatted away at her hand, looking up from Instagram (or his attempts to find Y/N with just knowing her first name). “What’s wrong?” she asked, poking his pouting face again.

        “She literally fangirled about everyone but me.” He huffed sliding down even further in his seat. 

        Florence raised an eyebrow. “Jealous, Styles?”

        “No,” he scoffed crossing his arms. “Why would I be jealous?”

        “Because literally both mornings that we've got here, you’ve been fidgety, keeping a watch of the path, and didn't calm down until Y/N appeared just now. So I’d say you’re absolutely smitten with the girl and are jealous because she’s more of a fan of us than you.”

        “I know she likes me.” His eyebrows furrowed. “I think. She hasn’t told me to fuck off.”

        “She’s a stranger you met in the middle of the woods. You should hope she likes you. But not too much. Otherwise, it could so easily become a scene out of a horror movie.”

        Chris bit his lip looking at Olivia, who’d come in the trailer after having seen the group come back with an almost heartbroken gaze – it was clear as a summer’s day Harry was struck by the girl, but they had to face the music. “Harry,” he started. “You – you do realise we end filming here in two weeks, right? And she’s a local.”

        “And?” his eyebrows furrowed at Chris’ words.

        “You’ll be leaving in two weeks for another three months of filming, while she stays here. I don’t – I don’t want to see you hurt, but you have to realise that most likely nothing will happen.”

        “And what makes you say that? Maybe she could come with.”

        “Y/N is her own person with her own life, job and friends, which, as it seems is all set here.”

        “Besides you don't really even know her,” Olivia said as well. “It's been two days."

        “Sometimes a day is enough.”

        A silence settled over them, as Harry tapped his phone against his nails.

        “You guys, come on!” Florence came to his defence. “He likes her. Why not give it a shot?”

He'd flashed her a thankful smile and mouthed a 'thank you' to which she just gave him an encouraging nod. She was on his side. She believed he could do it. And he did. Using Florence's faith in him as a catalyst, a day later when Y/N had gone on her run with Adam, Harry had excused himself and joined the two. 

        Adam was thrilled to the bone, but he was also competitive, so after ten minutes of trying to persuade the woman to run faster so he could beat his previous time, he took off on his own, with a promise of meeting up by the shore. That’s when Harry grabbed Y/N by her bicep and stalled them both, confusion written all over her features.

        “I uh,” he started. “I wanted to ask you something.”

        “Yeah, sure. Go ahead.”

        “I – “ he stuttered taking in a deep breath. “I – uh – and you have zero obligations to respond, but uh – I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date with me sometime?”

        That made Y/N do a double-take. “You want to go out? On a date? With me?”

        “Ye – yeah.” It was uncertain how the word came out, but it felt so good to say it. “Yes, I really do.”

        “Sorry.” She shook her head looking at the ground with furrowed brows. “Sorry’s just, kinda hard to believe it.”

        “ ‘Nd why’s that?”

        “Well because the first time we met, I looked like a sweaty mess, the second, I could barely function around your friends and co-workers, and now, well now I look like a sweaty mess again.”

        “So?”

        “I just –” Y/N laughed but waved him off. “Never mind.”

         Fear instantly took hold of his core at her statement, so he rushed to salvage what could be salvaged. “No, I mean if you don’t want, you - you don’t have to say ‘yes’. I’m not gonna be upset or any –“

        “Harry!” This time Y/N placed her hand on his shoulder to stop his ramblings. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

        “You – you would?”

        “Yes.” Her smile blinded him like the golden rays of sun which broke through the overcast sky. “I’d like to very much so.”

        But it was Y/N’s tearful huff, a storm cloud compared to the warm light from his memories, which brought him out of the fond thoughts and into the icy right now.

        “Because unless it revolves around Harry Styles, it doesn’t matter, right?” she let out a pained laugh. “Because unless he’s there to have all the spotlight on him, it’s not important. Unless it’s not something he wants to take part in, it immediately needs to be cancelled or rescheduled because god forbid someone made plans without him.”

        He grunted in disagreement. “You know that’s not what I meant!”

        “No,” she snapped, snatching her purse and coat. “I get it. Very clearly. I’ll show myself out.”

        “Don’t be so dramatic!”

        She scoffed, glaring at him. “Call me when you get your head out of your ass.”

        The door slammed shut, and Harry sat down onto the sofa to scream into a pillow.

***

        Y/N’s sight was blurry as she drove down the street. A light snow had started to fall over London, so she was twice as careful, knowing Londoners had zero clue how to function when snow hit, and no one had winter tires.

        “Fuck,” she choked out, wiping away at her cheeks.

        She’d had fights with Harry before, it wasn’t like they were perfect. From the outside they looked like nothing could ever be wrong, but they were human. They had flaws and tempers and ideas and beliefs, and sometimes they clashed, but it’d never been as bad as it was that night. 

        She loved Harry, Y/N truly did. She’d even had dreams of the two of them in some far-off cottage in the Italian mountains living a domestic life, but she also just wanted one night to herself. To let loose and think about her own needs and wants, while Harry was away doing the same. It wasn’t selfish, not in her mind. 

        It’d been her who’d uprooted her whole life to be closer to Harry, not the other way around. She was always the one cancelling and making new plans with her family or friends just so she could spend a spare second with Harry. She was there for his sleepless nights and there for his knock-out concerts. Why couldn't he let her have this one thing?

        She was sitting by the wheel at a red light taking in deep breaths to calm herself down. 

        The light turned green, and her hand was slightly shaking as she changed gears.

        Y/N released the clutch and pressed down on the gas.

        Two lights came rushing from the side.

        She gasped.

        A sharp pain went through her side.

        And then it was all black.

***

Anne was going to rip Harry a new one, as she rang him for the fifteenth time, but he still didn't pick up. After the accident and the nurses being unable to contact Harry, they obviously called Y/N’s parents which were next on the emergency contact's list, but given how they lived outside of the UK and the next flight was only in four days, they immediately reached out to Anne, begging for her to go be with their daughter while they got there.

“And please tell Harry to fly over as well!” Y/N’s mum had cried. “I – I know he has work, but please.”

Anne had been shocked to hear Y/M/N ask that, having assumed he was already there, but she wasn’t going to let them get to Harry before she set him straight herself. 

In the beginning, she’d been kind of sceptical, but after spending an evening together where Y/N, her and Gemma all did wine baking, and it had ended up in a disaster in the kitchen with the three of them crying from laughter while Harry stood at the entrance completely baffled and just so done with them, Anne knew Y/N only had good intentions with her son.

        Anne’s love for her only grew from that point on, when she also realised just how much Y/N’s love language was giving. It wasn’t the kind of ‘hey, look, I bought you some fancy thing, now love me’, it was ‘hey, I saw how much you wanted this, I noticed how much it’d mean to you, and I love how happy it makes you. And if it reminds you of me, that’s just a bonus’, and Anne couldn’t help but become as protective of Y/N as her own kids. 

        But at that moment, as finally, after her twenty-seventh attempt, Harry picked up with a gruff ‘ ‘ello?’, Anne was about to burst with rage.

“You get to the hospital right now!” she hissed into the phone.

“What are you talking about?” There was a tremble in his voice. 

The thing was, for two days since Y/N had stormed out, Harry’d been feeling sick. He thought it was due to the stress from the fight and from the pressure his label was putting on him, but now he understood it wasn’t that. It was his instinct telling him something bad had happened, and at Anne’s words, the bad feeling that’d settled in his stomach made his blood run cold. “Mum, what’s wrong?”

“Y/N was in a car accident, and you didn’t bother to pick up your phone.”

“I –” He stammered unable to process her words. “What? Mum? No…”

“You’re her emergency contact,” Anne spoke. “The hospital tried to call you a billion times, and you didn’t pick up.” 

And that’s when he remembered all of those calls from unknown numbers. He thought they’d been some crazed fans who’d gotten his personal number, so he’d just blocked them. “Mum, no.” Harry choked out. “I didn’t mean to – we fought – mum…”

“She’s at St. Helen’s. Please get here.”

He immediately ended the call, and in the span of twenty minutes was at the hospital, which Anne was sure to scold him for because there was no way in hell anyone who didn’t speed would be able to get to St. Helen’s in less than forty minutes. The second she saw her son burst through the door, tear tracks down his face, all the anger and disappointment vanished. 

“Where is she? Is she alive? Y/N!” he yelled across the hallway. “Where is she? Mum! Where’s Y/N?”

“Gem.” She patted her daughter’s knee as both of them stood up from where they’d been sitting at the chairs outside the recovery room assigned to Y/N. “Get a nurse, please.”

Gemma didn’t need an explanation or reasoning seeing Harry’s wild eyes, erratic breathing and shaky hands. 

“Mum!” He practically sprinted after seeing the woman, grabbing her by the shoulders.

“Calm down, Harry,” she shushed him, pulling him in for a hug and feeling his whole body tremble. “Calm down, it’s alright. Gem’ll get you some help, but you need to breathe.”

“I – I’m not the one who needs help!” Harry pretty much screamed. “I need to know if my girlfriend is alive.”

Anne spoke in a calm voice as to not agitate him even more, and her heart broke at the sight of her son so utterly broken. “Harry, you’re about to have a panic attack, and you’re no use to Y/N in that kind of state.”

“So.” He took in a chocked back breath. “So she’s alive?” He didn’t know what he’d do if the answer was anything else but a resounding ‘yes’. There was no version in his brain of where his life could possibly lead but down if he had to go on without Y/N.

“Yes,” Anne nodded, smoothing his hair away from his face, and watching as he took in a deep breath of relief. “She was just wheeled in for her second surgery. Should be out in about four hours. ”

All over again his insides froze. “Second? Mum, tell me the truth – how bad is it?”

“Harry, this is routine,” Gemma put a reassuring hand on his shoulder having returned with a nurse behind her, the man keeping a close eye on Harry and his behaviour. “They did as much as they could the first time, but their priority was on the worst injuries. This one is just to set things properly.”

“Set everything right like – “

“Like bones and stuff…” Gemma shuddered, trailing off. “Y/N broke her hip, dislocated her kneecap, her ankle was shattered and she fractured her collarbone. They took her in so that the bones could be properly placed together and there’s a lesser chance of complications not only while healing but later on in life. But can you please sit down? So they can help you as well?”

“I – alright,” he conceded, taking a place on one of the stiff plastic benches, as the nurse came to him, took his pulse, gave him an inhalator just in case and some herbal tablets to help him relax a bit.

“You said they focused on the worst injuries.” Harry looked at his mother. “What were those?”

Anne sighed, leaning to sit back on the chair next to him and ran a hand through his hair. “A piece of debris punctured one of her kidneys. The bleeding was pretty intense, but they say it was salvageable, so she’ll still have both of them. Gem donated some blood.”

“Thank you,” Harry whispered, looking over at his sister who wiped a stray tear away from his cheek.

She shook her head. “There’s nothing to thank me for. Y/N is family. If she’d lost the kidney, I’d give her mine in a second.”

“The worst they’re worried about is the head injuries,” Anne said. “Luckily, she got away without anything major, but she definitely has a concussion and minor whiplash to her neck, so they want to keep an eye out for any side effects that could arise. They have another surgery scheduled for her in a week if recovery goes as planned. To take the stitches that won’t dissolve out and put in the ones that will.”

        Harry sagged against his mother’s side, her palms soothingly running up and down his back. “She’s gonna be alright, love,” Anne muttered in his hair, pressing a kiss to his temple. “She’s strong. She’ll be okay.”

        It was comforting for both of them – for Anne to have her youngest in her arms, to know he was safe and sound, and for Harry to be held by his mother, the person who always knew how to comfort him when times were rough, and at that moment, they were the roughest they’d ever been.

        “You’ve got some nerve to be here.” Adam’s seething voice pulled Harry away from his mother’s embrace and watched as he rounded the corner with a coffee cup. He was quite sure he was keeping his temper well in check from how hard he was gripping the Styrofoam cup. “Fucking ignore her for two days while she’s laying in the hospital, and appear when it’s convenient for you? Is she some fucking toy for you to use when you want?”

        Anne’s tone was consoling and pleading. “He didn’t know.”

        “The hell he didn’t, he just didn’t want to know! They called you!” Adam pointed at the nurse’s desk. “And you let them go to voicemail. And then, better yet, you fucking blocked the number.”

        “I didn’t know it was the hospital,” he weakly defended himself.

        “Because you didn’t bother to find out.”

        He didn’t have anything to say to that. And not that he really could think of anything when the surgery ward’s doors swung open and they watched as a nurse wheeled Y/N’s gurney back inside the room, while another wheeled her saline bag along with. 

It was a terrifying sight to see. Her face was basically nothing but a swollen piece of flesh, bruises and scratches littering her cheeks, a neck brace to keep her head from moving while one leg was wrapped in a full-on cast, the other in one up until her knee and her left arm was in a sling.

        He’d had nightmares about her before. Most of the times it was about Y/N leaving him because she could no longer do it, could no longer commit to the hectic lifestyle that came with Harry, and as he screamed, banging on the invisible window that separated them, she just walked away, his sobs carried by the wind in the other direction.

        “You should go inside,” Anne whispered motioning with her head to where the nurses checked the monitors and how stable Y/N was. “I know you had a fight, but she’ll want you to be there when she wakes up.”

        “How,” Harry gulped back the lump that’d risen in his throat. “How do you know? How do you know she doesn’t want me to just disappear? I wasn’t there when she needed me, I was – “

        Anne put her hand on his cheek. “Because when she woke up yesterday morning for the first time, you were the first person she asked for. You. She wants you there. And it’s the least you can do for her.”

        He nodded, then took a deep breath and entered Y/N’s room. Watching her lay in the bed, unmoving, without her usual grumpy features as she slept, made Harry sick to the stomach so much so, he thought he’d have to call back the nurse.

        It was some twisted version of Sleeping Beauty, yet he knew a true loves kiss wouldn’t awaken her. Y/N just laid there, small breaths making her chest rise and fall, not even a flutter of her eyelids.

        Harry had spent countless night watching her sleep, looking at how her lashes fluttered as she dreamed of something; how her forehead creased and small, incoherent noises passed her lips as she talked to someone in her mind.

        Now, he was surrounded by none of that, only artificial reminders that she was still alive and fighting to get better.

        With uneven steps, Harry made his way to the chair which’d been stationed next to her bed (he was convinced beyond belief that Gemma, his mum and Adam had all taken shifts to sit there, to be there for Y/N), and much like a king who knew he was unfit for the throne, Harry had to swallow a lump as he took the seat.

        “I – I don’t know if you can hear me…” Harry took hold of Y/N’s palm and let out a sob of relief when he felt it was warm, not cold like he’d feared. “But I’m here for you. I’m not leaving. Not unless you want me to, so until you wake up…” there were so many words, so many apologies he wanted to say, but kept them at bay. Y/N deserved to hear them when she was conscious, so instead, he said, “I’m here, lovie. Get some rest, I’ll be here…”

        With that he put his head on the side of her bed, twisting his face so he could look up at her, watch her chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm, and fell asleep to the sound the beeps of Y/N’s beating heart.

        While he slept he dreamt again, the same terrifying dream of Y/N leaving, only this time she did look back at him, but her face was all wrong, her neck bent in a way it shouldn’t be, and eyes covered in a milky white. 

        “You weren’t there, Harry,” she said in a voice void of emotions. “So why should I be there for you?”

        Harry was 100% sure if he’d been hooked up to a heart rate monitor while he slept, people would think he was going into cardiac arrest, but it sure would’ve shown it flatlining as his green eyes swept over his lover’s frame to check his nightmare hadn’t become a reality, only to be met with two Y/E/C sparkling orbs looking back at him, giving him the softest gaze in the universe.

“Hey,” Harry’s tone was quiet, afraid to bring even the littlest of discomfort to Y/N given her state, and he had to physically restrain himself from sweeping down to bring her in a hug. 

What he saw on her face made his heart leap to his throat, as she smiled, genuinely happy to see him, lifting up her right hand, the only limb without a bandage on to cup his cheek. “Hey, love.” Her voice was scratchy like nails on a chalkboard, but to Harry, it was an absolute symphony. “Are you alright? Your eyes are puffy. Have you been getting enough sleep?”

        “Fuck,” Harry choked on his tears looking up at the white ceiling before back at her, complete disbelief in his blood-shot eyes. “You’re the one lying in a hospital bed, with casts and bandages all over you, scheduled for a third surgery, and you’re asking me if I’m alright?”

        If Y/N could, she would’ve shrugged as if that wasn’t the most self-explanatory thing in the world. “I’ll always want to know if you’re alright. ‘S not exclusively you that can care for people, you know.”

        And there she was – his sarcastic, allergic-to-kiwi-but-‘Kiwi’-loving girl that never ceased to amaze him, as she made sure everyone else was alright before herself. And that made Harry break down. 

“I’m so sorry Y/N. So fucking sorry. I – god – I – there are not enough words in any language to say how fucking sorry I am. I should’ve been here, should’ve never let you leave. This is all my fault.”

Through all that, through his choked back sobs and crying, Y/N’s hand had steadily remained on his cheek, wiping away the tears from underneath one eye before switching to the other side and making the little pearls of hurt disappear with just her touch. 

“Harry, are you the weatherman?”

That was not what he thought she would say. “I – what?”

“Do you control temperatures and have not told me?”

“N – no?”

“Were you the guy who ran the red light?”

“No.”

        “Then how is this your fault?”

        “I – “ he stammered. “I shouldn’t have let you leave. I should’ve gone after you, found a way to make you stay or – or should’ve fucking stopped being so selfish and driven you to see Adam yourself.”

        “Harry, had you tried to make me stay nothing would’ve changed.” Y/N sighed letting him lean into her touch, as she bit her lip, thinking over her words. “I was just so pissed, that I think anything you would’ve tried to do, would’ve only made it worse. And I’d rather be here with you than alone in my apartment crying in a tub of Hagen Dazs because of a broken heart.”

        “You-you've got your priorities completely backwards.” He wasn’t laughing when he said that, but Y/N was.

        “Maybe.” She raised her eyebrow. “But I don’t think so. The bones will heal, but the amount of love I have for you… I’m afraid you’ve ruined the thought of a future without you in it. We’ll talk,” Y/N swallowed hard. “We need to talk, but when I get better. Right now, I just wanna hold your hand and have you hold mine as I try not to kick the nurses trying to take my blood for tests.”

        It felt inappropriate for Harry to smile, to feel happy about how Y/N hadn’t told him to go screw himself, even though he felt like he deserved it, but fuck was it impossible not to when his body felt so light, and her love chose to invade the dark corners of his mind to fill it with golden warmth.

        She fell asleep not long after their small conversation, body too tired and in need of recovery, but like he’d promised, he was there for her when she awoke again, this time to a more familiar Y/N as she glared at the coffee cup in his hand, while he sipped, a ring clad palm gently pushing away strands of Y/H/C hair from her face.

        “I hate that you can drink coffee.”

        “Yeah, and why’s that?”

        “Because I can’t.”

        “I’ll happily buy you as many coffees as you like. Once you get better and are allowed to, of course.”

        Y/N snorted and then winced as the action caused pain to shoot through her body. “Knowing you, it won’t be a cup of coffee or a coffee machine, but a fucking coffee chain restaurant.”

        “Would it be that bad to own one?”

        Her eyebrow rose at him in an incredulous look. “You know I can’t bake. Coffee shops include pastries, and I’m not the one who worked in a bakery. I can cook, I can clean, but make me make muffins from scratch, and I’ll set your house on fire.”

        “You already did.” Harry laughed. “Gem and mum helped.”

        “They supplied the wine, so I’m putting 60% of the blame on them.”

        “You do realise that equates to 30% of the blame on each of them, and most of it is still on you?”

        “Shut up,” Y/N smiled, weakly pushing against Harry’s arm, but the motion made him happy to know she was trying. “I was just in a car crash, so forgive me for not being that great at division.”

        A knock at the door made Harry look up, Y/N not even attempting to turn her head to see who’d interrupted them, given how the first time she’d tried it with the neck-brace, it’d hurt so bad she’d passed out.

        Her doctor was a man in his mid to late fifties with greying hair, Y/N’s medical record file slapped underneath his arm.

        “How are we doing today?”

        “Better than yesterday, I guess,” she responded. 

        “Well, you were out for most of it, so I’d say so.”

        Y/N and the doctor chuckled, but Harry didn’t, as he thought of how bad, how absolutely tired a person has to be to sleep for a whole day. He’d had those days himself, and that was from being exhausted from work. He couldn't imagine what being in a bloody accident would feel like. 

        The doctor stepped forward a bit and extended a hand to Harry, introducing himself as Dr Tate, while Harry rose in his seat to accept it, but not wanting to move away an inch from Y/N.

        “You must be the boyfriend.”

        “I – uh – I can only hope I still am,” he let out a nervous giggle, which made his girlfriend slap his arm, a furrow on her face.

        Dr Tate looked Harry over from head to toe, eyebrow raised at that, but all he said was, “We tried to contact you, seeing as you’re Miss Y/L/N emergency contact, but the nurses said it couldn’t go through.”

        “He was filming overseas.” Y/N butted in, clearly having rehearsed what to say beforehand. “Flew over as fast as he could. I’m the luckiest person in the world.” Her tone was soft as a feather, but Harry’s stomach felt like it was filled with rocks. 

        “Is there anything I can help with?” he asked hoping to be given some sort of a task to do, to allow him to redeem himself some way.

        “Well, actually yes. One of the injuries Ms Y/L/N sustained was a concussion,” the doctor said, “which could lead to some complications like headaches, migraines, spotty vision or amnesia.”

“Amnesia?” Harry wanted to vomit. It had crossed his mind, but having a professional say it made it all so much worse. 

        “Yes, and we’d need someone to be with her as much as possible, 24/7 would be desirable, to keep an eye on.”

        Harry honestly hadn’t heard anything past the amnesia part, mind spinning in a circle that just screamed ‘she’ll forget all about you’.

“It’s nothing to worry about too much.” Dr Tate was quick on his feet, seeing Harry’s blank stare, and tried to diffuse any possible spiralling. “With Y/N’s cognitive abilities and having repeatedly excelled at the test without a single stutter, it’s very unlikely she’ll have those side effects. 

“But it’s still a possibility, right?”

The doctor nodded, giving Harry a kind smile. “Which is why I’m informing you of it. To keep an eye out to see if anything changes so you could come in if necessary. But as I said – Y/N’s memory has proven to be intact so far. And I always say to trust the facts.”

“Harry,” Y/N placed her hand on his. “You know I won’t forget you.”

“I’ll uh, give you two a second.” The doctor exited leaving them alone, an almost sad silence over both of them. 

“God I almost lost you to some idiot running a red light with no winter tires, and now you won’t remember me. And – and even with everything you’re going through, you’re still trying to protect me? Why did you lie? I – I wouldn’t have cared if you said the truth that I was an asshole.�� Harry dragged both hands over his face, trying to keep the cry’s at bay as Y/N ran her hand through his hair in an attempt to calm him down.

“I’d prefer to think,” Y/N shrugged trying to tease him and make him crack a smile, “me being dead would be the worst-case scenario, not me forgetting you. And of course, I’ll protect you. Your reputation matters to me. Just because we had a fight doesn’t mean I’ll immediately run to everyone I can and say how shitty of a person you were in those specific ten minutes.”

But Harry’s lips didn’t quirk up, the tears didn’t disappear as the painful grimace on his face wasn’t replaced by the crow lines next to his eyes from smiling so much. “What if you – what if you forget you love me? What do I do then? I know I sound selfish and like the biggest fucking dick, but as pathetic as it is – I can’t go on without you. I don’t know how I could.”

Y/N’s heart broke at his words because if the roles were reversed if Harry forgot about her and fell out of love, she didn't know how she'd survive. She’d had those fears before, when he was away filming and she couldn’t follow; she’d been terrified because what they’d had was so new, he could easily move on, find someone better, someone who was familiar with his lifestyle. But any time those thoughts came to her mind, Y/N reminded herself of what she’d do. And that’s what she told Harry.

        “Then you make me fall in love with you again. You’re great at that. Make me love you more with every passing moment.”

        “And – and if you don’t fall in love with me again?”

        Y/N shook her head. “Impossible, Harry. You made me fall in love with you after barely two hours spent together. And well, if you put your mind to it… who knows how much deeper I’ll fall.”

        For the first time in two days, Harry leaned down and pressed his lips against Y/N’s. The kiss was soft and sweet, a barely-there touch, but it meant everything. It was a promise to one another to love unconditionally, to remind the other of it at every passing moment; it sealed their future to be spent together, and neither wanted it any other way.

        Harry’s phone rang, eliciting a whine from Y/N as he pulled away to answer it. “It’s Florence.” He pecked her lips one more time. “I’ll just tell her to call back.”

        He turned to the side for a second muttering a soft ‘hey, can you –‘ before whatever Florence told him made him pull away and extend the deivice towards Y/N.

        “It’s for you.”

        “For – for me? Florence is calling me?”

        Had the two women become friends? Yes. But didn’t mean Y/N had an easier time not fangirling about her. 

        “Hi, Flo,” she breathed out, looking at Harry with wide, happy eyes. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

        Harry sat there watching as his love talked to someone she looked up to, and someone he cared about. He hadn’t told Florence, but her encouragement meant the world to him, as she was partially the reason he’d gotten together with Y/N. After all, she’d been the one on his side from the very beginning.

        Y/N giggled like a crazy person after the call ended and she handed Harry back his phone. “Florence Pugh just called to give me well wishes.” She gasped looking at Harry. “Do you think Chris Pine will too?”

        “God, I love you,” Harry laughed with her, pressing their foreheads together.

        They’d be alright, they’d make sure of it. No matter if a disagreement arose, egos needed to be put in check or black ice covered the roads. They’d get through anything. 

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64​ @supernaturalbaesduh​ @breezy1415​ @crazy--me​ @thatawkwardlittlefangirl​ @sea040561​ @staryeyedgirl​ @deathbyarabbit​ @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91​ @dalilx​ @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns​ @averyrogers83​ @in-the-end-im-still-trash​ @gallifreyansass​ @dewy-biitch​ @avxgers​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @magicwithaknife​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog​ @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15​ @breezykpop​ @girlboss99​ @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist​ @alliyjane​ @sirtommyholland​

A/N: Listen, Linda, those pictures of Harry on set does things!!!

Also the being allergic to kiwi - that’s me. Like legit it’s the only thing I’m allergic to. I always hated how they tasted like pain, like it made my mouth sting and feel like pins and needles before going numb, and according to professionals, that’s a sign of being allergic. But I love ‘Kiwi’ the song. 

P.S. my tags are always open :)

P.S.S. I don’t take requests, sorry :(