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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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SLEEPLESS

a/n: omg! it's been so long since i last wrote something for harry so it feels a bit weird but in a good way to be back. i've been spending more time offline so writing hasn't been going that fast like before, but im working on a few other stuff too! just please be patient with me, im trying my besti swear! so now enjoy this oneshot of two oblivious and stupid roommates who start sharing a bed...

pairing: Roommate!Harry x reader

word count: 8.1k

masterlist

Living with three boys has its perks but also a lot of downsides too. It’s not how you planned, you were set to move in with one of your friends from second year, but she bailed on you last minute, leaving you with no place to live when most of the houses were already taken for the next at least one year. You were bracing yourself to sleep under a bridge or something already when your heroes came along.

You went to high school with Harry Niall and Louis, but you weren’t exactly in the same friend group, just knew about each other. Then you ended up in the same Lit class freshman year with Harry and he was basically your pass into their little group. You hit it off pretty easily and you always wondered why you didn’t become friends before college. Later you had two more classes with him in the second semester and it was just all a coincidence that he found out about your living situation.

“Why don’t you move in with us?” he prompted one afternoon when you were studying together in the library.

“I’m not sharing a room with any of you, Harry,” you sighed, shaking your head.

“You wouldn’t have to. We had a fourth mate living with us but he dropped out about a month ago. You could take his bedroom.”

“Are for real? You should talk about it with the boys first, don’t you think?”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind it. They like you too and if I’m being honest, the place could use the touch of a woman,” he smirked and you just rolled your eyes, but you were incredibly thankful for the offer.

So after talking with Niall and Louis about it and once they gave their amens on the situation, you officially moved in with the three of them.

You’d be lying if you said there hasn’t been times when you thought about choosing the bridge, living with boys is not exactly a dream. They are messy, sometimes loud and oblivious about certain things women do and need. You’ll never forget Niall’s face when you packed the shelf above the toilet with your tampons and pads. The horror in his eyes as he examined all the different sizes and types.

“But why so many? I don’t get it why you need the large ones and the mini ones too,” he huffed.

“Because I vary them according to the strength of my flow.”

“Bless you,” he scoffed and just walked away.

They tend to leave their clothes around the house and they don’t always realize when it’s time to let some fresh air into the place either. Harry has a sixth sense wanting to use the bathroom when you’re in and Louis always forgets to get rid of his spoiled food from the fridge. Tini things that surely got you thinking if it was a good idea to move in with them. But then there are times when you can’t even imagine sharing a home with anyone else than these three idiots.

The way Harry always leaves you a cup of coffee on the counter when he has an early class on mondays and wednesdays, how Niall always waits for you to get home after your night shifts at the restaurant you’ve been working at, but he always just says he was watching Supernatural on TV. You love that Louis goes out of his way to get you your favorite pastry for breakfast on sundays when he goes for his morning runs. But the absolute best is that you never feel alone or bored with these three around. Something is always happening and they make sure to involve you in everything, making you feel like part of their little pack.

Tonight is Thursday and Thursdays are movie nights in your home. It’s been a tradition since the first week and you haven’t missed any of them. Sitting on the couch at your usual spot, you laugh as Niall growls in annoyance when you suggest to watch another rom-com.

“Not again!” he protests, sitting on the floor by the coffee table you and Harry thrifted a few months ago after the previous one was broken at a smaller party held in the house.

“Why? I bet Harry would love it!” you grin, glancing at the guy in talk who is now entering the room with a big bowl of popcorn.

“Of course he would, because he is a pussy! And the two of you always team up, dragging Louis with you so I can never watch something I enjoy!” Niall whines as Harry sits next to you, not too bothered by his friend’s cries.

“Come on, I bet you enjoyed Crazy, Stupid Love last week!” you laugh, remembering how he whined for the first part, then fell asleep at the end.

“Love, if you think that was enjoyment, I wouldn’t want to be your boyfriend,” Niall scoffs and you gasp at his reply.

“Hey!” you snap at him, but can’t help laughing. This is how it always goes with you and Niall, the non-stop bickering can sometimes drive Harry and Lou insane.

“Okay, so what do you want to watch?” Harry asks, throwing some popcorn into his mouth as he gets comfortable, an arm resting on the back of the couch behind you, the other one busy with the snack in his lap.

“There is this new horror I’ve been dying to see!” Niall’s blue eyes light up right away, but you’re fast to break that shine.

“Nah, no way. I’m not watching a horror movie.”

“Why not?”

“Because I fucking hate them and they scare the shit out of me.”

“That’s like the whole point!” he protests, but you shake your head no again.

“What are you fighting about again?” Louis asks, walking into the room after his quick shower, the smell of his body wash filling the room for a few moments.

“I want to watch a horror movie, but Y/N is a little baby and she doesn’t want to.”

“I’m not a baby! I just don’t enjoy watching people get killed or demons sucking the life out of someone!” Niall just rolls his eyes at your response.

“But it’s always what you or Harry wants to watch, why can’t I choose just this once?”

“That’s not true, we watch movies you like too!” you retort, but Niall gives you an unimpressed look. “We watched that crime thing, that was your choice!”

“That was three months ago, Y/N,” he sighs and as you do some quick math you realize that he is right.

“Hey, he has a point. Let’s just watch what he wants this one time, yeah?” Harry curls his arm that’s been on the back of the couch around your shoulder and he pulls you to his side, squeezing you gently.

“But I hate horrors,” you pout, knowing well that it’s already kind of settled, you lost this battle.

“It’s just a movie. And if you get scared in the night, you can sleep at mine,” he offers with a wink that surely makes your heartbeat fasten a bit.

If you’re being honest, you’ve always had a tiny crush on Harry, even back in high school, when you didn’t really know him. He was the cool guy, but not the douchebag type, more like the one that was nice to everyone and earned their respect and liking. Getting to know him just proved that he really is a great guy, but you figured he would never feel the same way about you. These three guys only saw you as their sister and that was in a way kinda worse than being friend zoned, but there’s nothing you can do about it, so you just decided to come to peace with your situation. But that doesn’t mean you don’t get flustered when you see him wander around the house in just his boxers or when he gets a little touchy with you, which happens a lot, because that’s just how he is. Hands on your shoulders, a little squeeze on your hips, the gentle touch of his fingers on your back, they happen all the time and they get your pulse up every time. You can only hope it’s not that noticeable.

Niall finally gets what he wants and you agree to watch that stupid horror movie. It doesn’t start off too bad, but it quickly escalates and makes you shudder every time the screen gets a little darker or the music is foreshadowing that something is about to happen.

“Jesus fuck!” you jump a little when the killer appears out of nowhere in the scene.

“You alright?” Harry asks, peeking down at you.

“I fucking hate this dude,” you mumble, rubbing your face with your hands, to get your shit together. Harry chuckles lightly next to you, his arm pulling you to his side close and you gladly sink against him, the warmth of his body giving you some comfort and a sense of safety.

Your eyes are on the screen, but your mind is dancing around how his fingers are delicately running up and down your arm, drawing circles and little shapes on your skin. It could put you to sleep easily, even with the woman screaming on the screen after seeing her husband get killed.

“Just imagine the guy with a funny mustache,” Harry murmurs, leaning closer to you so he doesn’t bother the other two guys with his comment. “Or maybe in a ridiculous outfit.”

“Like… in a onsie?” you ask, squinting your eyes at the screen.

“Could be, yeah,” he chuckles quietly. “Just imagine him running through the woods in a onsie with bunnies all over it.”

You can’t push your laughter down, covering your mouth with your hand so you don’t bother the others. Harry just smirks, giving you a squeeze as you’re still melted against his side on the couch, legs pulled up to your chest, while his are spread out in front of him.

“Definitely not that scary,” you giggle and Harry hums in agreement.

“Would you mind getting a fucking room, you guys? You have two, in fact!” Niall snaps at you playfully, when you start laughing again.

“Sorry, sorry!” you clear your throat, your cheeks heating up at the comment, but luckily it’s dark enough to hide your embarrassment. Niall is always quick to make dirty jokes and tease you in a way that makes you nervous, especially when it involves Harry as well. He has made plenty of comments about you and Harry since you’ve moved in, implying that the two of you sometimes act like a couple or that you should hook up. Harry is always quick to shake them off, that’s how you know he couldn’t even take the thought seriously.

At the end of the movie you feel like it wasn’t bad, not with Harry holding you close at least.

“Will you be screaming tonight, Y/N?” Niall teases you, making you roll your eyes at him.

“Either way it’s gonna be your fault.”

“I can live with that!” he laughs, bidding his goodbye before he shuts the door of his bedroom behind him.

You do your usual evening routine, get ready to bed and by the time you’re done in the bathroom all the boys have retired into their rooms. The hallway stands dark in front of you, only a tiny bit of light coming from your bedroom since you left your bedside lamp on in there, but you still can’t help the eerie feeling that washes over you. That movie didn’t sit right with you and now you have to face the aftermath of it.

Switching the lights in the bathroom off you sprint into your bedroom, pictures from the movie flashing in your mind of the killer just jumping out of nowhere. You shut the door and lean your back against it for a moment, taking a deep breath. Tonight is going to be long.

No matter how hard you try, you just can’t fall asleep. You’re way too alerted, opening your eyes at the tiniest of sounds around you, which is unfortunate, because your window is looking over the main street, unlike two other rooms in the house, that are facing the small backyard. Harry and Louis have the luck to have those rooms.

Every time you’re about to fall asleep something from the movie sneaks into your thoughts and you get scared to death. Soon, you realize you won’t be able to sleep on your own tonight.

Sitting on the edge of your bed, you wonder if Harry really meant that offer that you can sleep with him or not. Part of you is convinced it was just a joke, but when you hear someone shouting down the street you push your doubts aside and you quickly find yourself making your way to Harry’s room.

You knock on the room lightly, not wanting to wake anyone else up. The last thing you need is Niall seeing you go into Harry’s room in the middle of the night.

No answer comes from inside, but you won’t just leave it at that. Opening the door you’re facing another dark room, barely making out the furniture, but you already know the route by heart. Making it to the bed your eyes finally adjust to the darkness and you can see Harry lying on his side, sleeping peacefully. Squatting down you place a hand to his shoulder and give him a tiny shake.

“Harry?” you call out quietly, but his answer is just a huff. “Harry, it’s me,” you try again, squeezing his arm. He furrows his eyebrows before slowly blinking his eyes open, finding you in his sight.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” he asks in that groggy, low voice you love hearing in the morning so much.

“I can’t… Did you mean that I can sleep here if I’m scared?” you ask, afraid that he might just have a good laugh and send you back to your room. For a long moment, he just blinks at you before nodding his head and you feel relief washing over you.

“Sure,” he hums.

“O-okay then I’ll bring a blanket and take the floor and--”

“Shut up, you are not sleeping on the floor,” he growls, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into bed with him as he scoots over, making you space on the mattress.

It’s a bit weird at first, lying in bed with Harry, especially because it’s just queen sized, so there’s not much space between the two of you, but it seems like Harry doesn’t mind it so why should you?

Your nerves are a lot calmer with Harry next to you, but maybe it’s still because of the movie or because you’re a bit anxious about the whole situation, you just still can’t relax enough to fall asleep.

“Y/N, no one is gonna kill you here,” Harry speaks up surprising you because you thought he has already fallen back asleep.

“I know, I know,” you whisper, trying to sound convincing, but you can’t fool anyone, especially not him.

He huffs deeply and before you could realize what’s happening, Harry’s arm is curled around your waist, pulling you against him, spooning you from behind, the warmth of his body wrapping your figure almost entirely.

“If a murderer comes, they will have to fight me first, alright? Now sleep,” he mumbles against your hair, squeezing you gently. All at once, you couldn’t care about killers and dark shadows around you, because Harry was right there, holding you tight and there was nowhere you wanted to be more than right there.

You slept like a baby. Harry’s closeness kept every nightmare away from you and the morning came with ease. Harry’s phone wakes the two of you up at eight, because he has a morning class at 9.30. The two of you are completely tangled up in each other, lying on your side facing each other, Harry’s arms are wrapped around you, while yours are hugging his waist. Groaning at the sound of his alarm, he rolls to his back to reach for the phone on the nightstand and then he finally turns it off. It’s bright outside, the darkness of the night finally long gone. You’re still groggy when Harry rolls back, his arm coming back around you like it’s the most natural thing in the world and in a sense, it feels like that. But as you both slowly wake up, you realize that you might be a little too close. Slowly but surely you let go of each other, rolling to your back, staring up at the ceiling.

“Hope I didn’t kick you in my sleep,” you smile at him, peeking over at him, hoping to break the awkwardness of the situation.

“No, don’t worry about it,” he chuckles, rubbing his eyes, before pushing himself up and off the bed. You follow him with your gaze as he steps to his dresser and grabs a pair of clean underwear. “I’ll put on a coffee while I shower, want one too?” he asks, though you know he could make one for you anyway.

“Sure, thank you,” you nod and he nods back, yawning as he walks out of the room, leaving you lying in his bed, a bit confused and kind of aching to be held by him again.

Two days pass by, everything is going as per usual, neither you nor Harry brings up that you spent the night in his bed that one particular time. Now it’s saturday and you all were planning to go out, but a sudden storm has cancelled your plans, so the evening turned into a cozy, lazy hangout instead of a wild party at some frat house.

Louis decided to work on a paper that’s due in two weeks, Niall has been relentlessly swiping on Tinder while you and Harry are spawled out on the couch, watching some shitty action movie that was on TV, since you both were too lazy to choose one and put it on. Deep down you’re a little happy you don’t have to spend the evening in a crowded, smelly house, drinking cheap alcohol.

Harry gets up from his seat to grab himself a drink just when Niall growls in annoyance.

“What is it?” you ask.

“They keep unmatching with me after we’ve talked a little!”

“Have you thought about the reason?” you smirk at him, knowing well that Niall probably isn’t the easiest to talk to, he surely takes it too far too soon.

“Well they probably don’t like that I ask them if I can go over,” he shrugs, making you laugh.

“You’d go over in the pouring rain?” Harry asks, returning to his spot on the couch. He puts his drink to the coffee table and instead of sitting into his previous position, leaning against the arm of the couch, he lies down, laying his head to your thigh, making your breath hitch for a moment.

“Of course not!” Niall rolls his eyes. “But I thought it would make them think I would do anything for them.”

“It makes you seem desperate,” Harry retorts, earning a questioning look from his friend. “What? It does!”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Yes it does,” you nod in agreement. “Going over in the middle of a storm just to fuck? Sounds like you’re having a hard time finding someone.”

“Women are so fucking complicated, and for what?!” he growls, before storming off to his bedroom, like an angsty teenager, leaving you and Harry alone.

He doesn’t move, his head stays on your thigh using it as a pillow. His curls are tickling the soft skin on your thigh and you have to fight the urge to play with his hair or scratch his scalp. You stay like this for the rest of the movie and when he gets up you almost want to pull him back.

“Alright, I’m fucked, I’m gonna go to bed,” he yawns, stretching his arms out into the air as he heads into his bedroom. “Good night, Y/N.”

“Night, Harry!” you call after him as you watch his frame disappear down the hallway.

Sighing, you slide down on the couch, cursing under your breath that you’re still so hung up on Harry. You really thought that you had it under control, but lately those damn butterflies are acting up in your stomach at everything he does.

“I’m pathetic,” you mumble under your breath just as the sky rumbles outside with a blinding lightning, making you jump with a squeak. “Shit,” you huff, already knowing that falling asleep will be a pain in the ass. Again.

You’ve always hated storms, they make you think that something bad is about to happen, a tree is about to fall into the window or a lightning will blow up the building. It’s kind of stupid, you know it, but you just can’t help it.

Tossing and turning, you jump every time a lightning flashes somewhere outside and a few seconds later the thunder rips through your whole body, almost making you fall off the bed.

“Oh God,” you let out a shaky breath. You have no idea how long it is until the Storm finally stops and you’d really like to have a good night's sleep. So pushing your anxious thoughts to the side, you get out of bed and head over to Harry’s room once again.

It’s such a deja vu from a few nights ago, as you gently knock on the door you wait again, but this time you actually get an answer.

“Yeah?” you hear him call out from inside and you slowly open the door, peeking your head inside. Harry is lying in bed, his head propped up against the headboard as he is scrolling through his phone. “Y/N? What’s wrong?” he asks, putting the phone aside as he sits up.

“I just, I-I know it’s stupid, but I was thinking… I don’t know--”

“Y/N, just tell me, alright? Come on in,” he gestures for you and you slip into the room, closing the door behind you before sitting to the edge of the bed next to him. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t sleep during storms…” you admit, looking into his eyes, hoping he gets the hint where you want to head with it. He stares back at you for a moment before he scoots over, lifting the covers up, giving you the green light to join him.

Relieved, you climb over to him, making yourself comfortable as he wraps the blanket over you, his arm immediately coming to cradle you, this time pulling you to his chest so your head is laid upon his shoulder, a hand gently placed onto his hard chest, probably right above where his butterfly tattoo is adorning his abdomen.

This is now easily your favorite place. Safe and tight in Harry’s arms, protected from anything and everything, like you’re in a little bubble as soon as you get on his bed.

Lightning strikes outside again and you shiver a little. Harry probably notices it, because he tightens his hold around you, as if it’s his way telling you that he is here and nothing bad is gonna happen. Eventually, you’re able to shut the outside out and only focus on Harry’s warmth, the touch of his hand on your arm and his even breathing. And then finally, you drift off to sleep.

This morning is different from the previous one you spent here. There’s no alarm since it’s Sunday, neither of you have anything in particular to do, so you wake up feeling rested, the Sun shining through his half drawn in curtains, no trace of last night’s storm can be noticed from where you’re lying in bed, the sky is as clear as ever. Sometime during the night you got tangled in a way where Harry is the one now cuddling you, his head lying on your chest, hugging you as if you were a giant teddy bear, his leg thrown between yours, lightly snoring against your sleep shirt. You can only see his mop of hair and the urge to play with them is back, but this time, you give in.

Leaving one hand on his back, you move the other one to his unruly locks, gently playing with one before you comb your fingers through it, lightly scratching his scalp. Harry hums in pleasure, shifting from his dreams back to reality, but he doesn’t move, just keeps humming as you massage his scalp.

“It’s not a good morning, it’s the best,” he mumbles groggily, making you chuckle at his words.

One of his hands is flat against your ribcage and the damned butterflies start dancing when you feel his fingers gently stroke your side as you keep playing with his curls. This feels so idyllic, as if you’ve been like this forever. You wish that was true.

Groaning as he stretches, Harry rolls to his back, making you instantly miss his body pressed against yours. He rubs his eyes, sighing deep as he blinks up at the ceiling a few times, then he turns his head to the side, looking at you.

Just when he is about to say something, outside his door it sounds like someone just broke a pile of plates and it’s followed by Niall’s usual annoyed growl. You both get out of bed to go and check what happened, not even thinking about how it might appear that you both are coming from Harry’s room in the morning.

Harry flings the door open and there is Niall, collecting pieces of a plate from the floor, his breakfast scattered down the hallway as well while he curses under his breath.

“What happened?” Harry asks, picking up a bigger piece from the plate.

“Fucking tripped,” he growls back, glancing up just for a moment, then back down, but then he processes that you’re standing behind Harry, in his room, in the morning. “What the fuck are you doing in Harry’s room?” he bluntly asks, quickly forgetting about the mess he just made.

“What?” you ask nervously, your pulse quickening in an instant. Harry stands up, seemingly not too bothered by Niall’s question.

“You slept in his room?!”

“She did,” Harry answers, leaning against the doorframe.

“Wait, are you two fucking?” Niall’s eyes widen, snapping back and forth between you and Harry.

“Just because two people sleep in the same bed, doesn’t mean they are fucking, Niall,” Harry chuckles, seemingly amused by the situation that’s got your stomach knotted. Louis’ door opens and he walks out, his hair a little messy, but already dressed, a mug halfway filled with coffee in his hand.

“Wha’s this circus out here?” he asks, looking around, his eyes scanning over the mess on the floor.

“Did you know these two are fucking?” Niall asks him and Harry lets his head drop back at his words.

“Are you?” Louis simply questions and you shake your head no.

“We are not. Y/N can’t sleep in a storm so she came over to mine.”

“Funny, she doesn’t come to me when she’s scared,” Niall scoffs.

“I never came to you because you don’t understand that sleeping together doesn’t mean sex,” you retort, though your ears are practically burning from the rising anxiety inside you.

“Wait, whoa. This wasn’t the first time you two slept together?”

“She was scared after your stupid horror movie too,” Harry shrugs.

“Wow, so are you guys a thing now or what?”

“Niall!” Harry growls and you’re not entirely sure what bothers you more. Niall’s shock and interrogation or the way Harry seems so cool and unbothered, like it’s no big deal. Maybe because for him it really isn’t, it’s only about the sleeping, nothing else, even though the cuddles are a little beyond the lines of friendship.

“What? I’m just asking the important stuff! Am I not allowed to tell dirty jokes to Y/N because you’ll cut my prick off?”

“You shouldn’t tell those anyway,” Louis chimes in and you nod in agreement.

Seeing that the conversation is just getting more and more awkward with each passing moment you decide to pull yourself out of it. Pushing yourself past Harry you mumble an excuse me before rushing back into your room, the three boys eyeing you curiously as you shut the door behind you, finally putting a physical barrier between you and them.

You shouldn’t be this offended, it’s not like any promises were made and you should have known better and not fall for him more than you already did. It was silly of you to think that there was anything more behind these nights spent curled up against each other, or when you woke up tangled and melted together. It was never what you hoped it to be.

Then and there you decide it’s better if you distanced yourself from him, or at least go back to how it was before. No bed sharing, no cuddling and preferably no bitter feelings.

It all goes well, because you have a pretty busy week after that day, you always have something to do and it’s not like you spent the night with Harry randomly, so it was evident that you stayed in your room so far.

But about a week later another storm was threatening to strike. The sky was gradually darkening all afternoon and now it’s only five o’clock, but it feels like eight. It’s Sunday, you’re quite exhausted since you were working until three. Niall was out somewhere with some of his coursemates and Louis went home for the weekend, won’t be back until Tuesday. It’s just you and Harry, who’s been sprawled out on the couch in only his sweatpants while you’re making yourself an early dinner so you can go to bed soon and have a good night’s sleep.

It doesn’t take long for the rain to start pouring, you’ve just gotten out of the shower when the first thunder rips through the place, making you gasp in fear. Harry’s head snaps around, looking in your way where you’re standing at the bathroom door, a questioning look in his eyes, but he doesn’t say a word. Ignoring his gaze, you just make your way into your bedroom, not even thinking about what could be on his mind. Is he thinking about whether you’ll ask to sleep with him again or he doesn’t care about it at all?

By the time you are ready to go to bed, the storm is fully raging outside, making your insides tremble every time you see a lightning or the thunder breaks the quietness in the house. You make one last trip to the kitchen, finding Harry leaned against the counter as he eats an apple.

“Going to bed early?” he asks as you pour yourself some water.

“Mhm,” you nod, avoiding looking at him.

“Everything alright?”

“Sure, I’m just tired,” you force a small smile onto your face just when a thunder rumbles outside, making you jump. Harry is watching you curiously and kind of expectantly, but you’re doing your best ignoring it. Instead, you just grab your water and head back to your room. “Good night.”

“Night, Y/N,” he calls after you, and you can feel his burning gaze on your back right until you close the door behind you.

Your plan to sleep a good ten hours goes right out the window. It doesn’t seem like the storm is about to calm anytime soon, so you’re stuck to suffer through it on your own. You’ll be damned to go to Harry’s, that would be an instant heart break and you just can’t take that right now. Long, torturous hours pass by with you lying awake in bed and part of you wants to go running over to Harry, but you force yourself to stay. It’s not happening tonight.

You fall asleep sometime after two in the morning when the thunder and lightning have stopped. Unfortunately, you need to wake up early in the morning, so when your phone’s alarm shakes you out of your sleep, you feel like absolute shit. Dragging yourself out of bed appears to be the hardest thing right now. As you make your way out, you are met with an all too familiar figure sitting at the small dining table, two cups of coffees in front of him, one obviously made for you.

Harry’s eyes snap up at you curiously, taking in your terrible looks as you head to the bathroom.

“Morning,” you mumble under your breath.

“Good morning’,” he nods in your way and though he doesn’t say anything else, you can tell he has a few thoughts about your current state.

Once you’re done with your morning business in there you join him at the table, barely able to keep your eyes open.

“Rough night?” he asks, eyes examining your face.

“Kinda.”

“The storm?”

You don’t answer, just nod your head. He remains silent, but you can feel that he is dying to ask another question.

Why didn’t you come over?

You’re glad he doesn’t actually asks you, because you wouldn’t be able to give either a normal answer or say anything without starting to cry. Instead, you just grab your coffee and head back into your bedroom to get ready for the day.

That week on Friday all four of you are invited to a party. At first you want to cancel, but some of your friends from classes will be there too and it’s been ages since you’ve been to a great party, so you decide to tag along with the boys.

For the first half of the evening you go your separate way, spending time with people you don’t actually live with and see every day. One drink follows the other, though you make sure you don’t go farther than getting tipsy. You’re not in the mood to deal with a nasty hangover in the morning.

Sometime after your third or fourth drink you run into Niall and he pulls you into their little circle that also involves Harry. When he sees that you’ve joined them, his eyes light up and goes out of his way to get next to you.

“I haven’t seen you in ages!” he whines, slurring his words as he wraps an arm around your shoulders to keep you at his side. He is definitely drunk, that you’re sure of.

“It’s been just about two hours, Harry,” you roll your eyes, but can’t push your smile down. You’d be lying if you said you’re not enjoying having him so close. Your dynamic hasn’t been the same since you stopped sleeping in his bed. Not that it was such a regular activity, it only happened two times.

“But I missed you, I feel like we haven’t… haven’t talked in so long!” he huffs, knitting his eyebrows together. “Have you been avoiding me?” he asks leaning closer, so your conversation can somewhat be private.

“That’s silly. Of course I haven’t!”

“But it feels like that,” he pouts with glossy eyes. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

“Sure,” you nod, the bitter taste of lying filling your mouth.

“Alright, cool,” he smirks and pulling closer he kisses into your hair before he engages with the rest of the group again, keeping his arm around you as if it wasn’t a big deal.

For the rest of the evening you simply don’t leave his side and not because he doesn’t let you, but because you don’t want to. Harry is not the only one missing the other, this week you’ve noticed that even though you’ve been keeping yourself busy, your thoughts always took you back to one particular, curly haired boy. Despite everything that’s been going on, he is your friend first and foremost who you love spending time with and talking about anything and everything.

Both of you are intoxicated, Harry a bit more than you, but you’re having a blast playing beerpong or ruining Niall’s chances with girls he is trying to pick up. You’re genuinely having an amazing time and it wouldn’t be the same without Harry.

Arriving back home your little group splits, everyone using the bathroom after the other and you’re the last one in line, because you always take the longest. By the time you’re finished, Louis and Niall are both locked up in their rooms, but Harry’s door is still open, some dim lighting illuminating the hallway. As you approach it, you find him throwing his dirty clothes into the hamper, but his head perks up when he sees you.

“Good night, H,” you sigh, quite tired and in need of a good sleep, but before you could head into your own bedroom, Harry grabs your wrist and pulls you into his. “What is it?”

“Sleep here,” he simply prompts, already leading you to the bed.

“Why?”

“Because I want you to.”

“I-I… I don’t--” you stutter, feeling flustered from his offer.

“Come on, you can’t say no,” he tells you, already crawling under his covers and then he holds them up as the invitation.

Taking a deep breath you follow him and make yourself comfortable in your almost usual spot. Harry’s arm falls over your waist in an instant, spooning you from behind as he hums pleased. But a few moments later he lifts his head, looking at you with concern in his eyes.

“You know you can say no, right? I was just joking.” Looking back at him you give him a small smile. Even drunk he makes sure you aren’t doing anything you don’t want to, but how could you not want it? You’ve been aching to sleep next to him all week, especially after the last storm when you suffered alone in your room.

“I know, Harry.”

“Alright, okay,” he nods, his head dropping back to the pillow. “I missed this,” he mumbles with a sigh.

“Yeah?”

“Mm, sleeping alone sucks,” he hums and in a split second, your heart breaks.

Harry didn’t want to sleep with you, he just wanted to sleep with someone and you were the one there. It has nothing to do with you.

You want to blame him, you want it to be his fault that your chest is now aching, knowing that it truly doesn’t mean the same thing to him it does to you, but you know you can’t. It wouldn’t be fair, so once again, you’re left with a sinking heart wrapped up into Harry’s embrace that suddenly feels burning.

“Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Harry.”

When the morning comes Harry is still sleeping deep beside you, an arm thrown over your waist, puffing warm air against the side of your head with every breath he exhales. Seeing him so peaceful warms your heart, but then you realize everything that happened last night, how he only used you because you were available and not because he wanted you.

You don’t want to wait for him to wake up and face him, your emotions would surely bring the best out of you. So carefully, you unwrap yourself from his hold and sneak out of his room, back into yours.

There’s no way you can face Harry right now, so before he could wake up you leave, planning on spending the day in the library, working on your assignments, hoping the school work will take your mind off of how badly you’ve been friendzoned.

Sometime after eleven Harry actually texts you asking where you went and you just tell him you have a shitload of school stuff to deal with. He asks if he can join you, but you tell him you’re with a group of your classmates, even though you’re sitting in an almost entirely empty library. He luckily doesn’t push it and leaves you to be. Hopefully he’ll be fine when you take another step away from him for a while to get your head straight and sort your emotions out.

You get home quite late, but not late enough, apparently. Because walking into the house you find the boys clearly getting ready to watch a movie.

“Just in time!” Niall beams. “Join us, Princess!” he laughs, grabbing himself a cola from the fridge.

“Oh, no, I have some things to work on--”

“Come on, you’ve been in the library all day, you can have a break!” Louis tells you and you know you won’t be left alone, they are just so persistent.

So you join them in your usual spot, which is of course next to Harry, though you’re trying to avoid his gaze that hasn’t left you since you arrived and by now you’re certain he knows you’re avoiding him. There’s a reason why he asked you last night if you’ve been doing it lately, he is not stupid, but this is not the time to deal with it.

With your inner crisis bubbling inside you, you completely forget to ask what you’re watching. A few minutes into the movie it becomes quite clear however.

“Is this a fucking horror movie again?” you ask, snapping at Niall, who just starts laughing.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Harry will gladly let you sleep in his bed tonight,” he teases, making your whole face heat up at his comment. Harry slaps his chest before he turns to you with concern filled eyes, but you pretend like you see nothing, turning back to the screen with your jaw clenched.

You’re fucked.

The movie is a fucking shitshow and leaves you traumatized. When it’s over, you think about why didn’t you just stand up and go into your room when you realized it’s another horror. For a change, this one was filled with demons and monsters that hide in the shadows, just what you need before going to bed. In the night. In a totally dark room.

Exiting the bathroom you’re already planning on watching something lighthearted and cheerful in your room, hoping that would make you forget the movie you just saw and give you the chance to actually sleep.

Walking past Harry’s room you see that it’s still open and you catch him expectantly looking at you when you appear in the doorway as you walk down the hallway, your eyes meeting for just a split second before you disappear from his sight and shut your bedroom door without a word behind you.

No matter how many random videos you watch on YouTube, some scenes from the movie are just imprinted into your mind and they have you trembling in fear. Every shadow looks like a demon or ghost, hiding in your room, ready to haunt and kill you and you’re on the verge of actually crying. It might not be only because of the movie, more like everything else that’s been bottled up inside you, added to the fear the movie has brought to you.

Shutting your eyes closed you try to take deep breaths and for a bit it actually seems to help, but that is until you hear the door opening. It gives you an instant heart attack and you can’t keep your tears back anymore.

A whimper leaves your mouth as the door opens and you can only see a shadow entering the room, totally not recognizing Harry in the dark.

“Y/N, hey, it’s just me! It’s okay!” he quickly clears, seeing how shaken up you are. He rushes over to the bed, one hand cupping your cheek, the other one finding your hand and before you could think, you grip it hard.

“You scared the living hell out of me!” you cry out, sobbing.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to check on you.”

Silence sets between the two of you that’s only momentarily broken by your shaky breaths as you try to calm yourself down.

“Why didn’t you come to mine after the movie if you were so scared?” he then asks, surprising you with how straightforward he is.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you mumble, blinking the remaining of the tears away as Harry stares down at you intently.

“Why would you think you’d bother me? I like having you there.”

“But it’s… Doesn’t matter,” you sigh in defeat, but it just concerns him even more.

“No, tell me!”

“Harry, just go back to your room. I’ll be fine.”

“You definitely won’t and I’m not leaving until you don’t tell me what’s going on,” he protests firmly and you lose your patience to keep lying to him.

“You just wanted someone to sleep with yesterday, okay? You didn’t need me. And… I don’t want to depend on you more than I should.”

Harry stares back at you with a blank expression and you feel like this is going to be the end of your friendship. You have to come clean about your feelings and he’ll tell you that he doesn’t feel the same way. But then he speaks up and the tables turn faster than ever.

“Y/N, I wanted you to sleep with me last night. Not just anyone. You.”

“What?”

“I really thought we have been on the same page, but apparently, we’re not even in the same book,” he sighs, confusing you even more. “Wasn’t it suspicious how things have been between us lately? The way we slept, the mornings, did you think these are normal things to do?”

“I-I thought that… it didn’t mean anything to you.”

“Well it did,” he replies and you breath hitches in your throat. “I was trying to take it slow, see how you’d react to everything and I thought you were feeling the same way. But then last time you didn’t come to my room when there was a storm and I thought that was your way of telling me that you want to pause whatever’s been going on.”

You’re just blinking in shock, listening to his words. This is nothing you expected.

“But then you seemed like you opened back up last night and you agreed to sleep with me, thought we were back on track, but then you were nowhere to be found in the morning, avoided me all day and now you would have rather spent the night crying here alone than to come over to me. What did I do? Just tell me, because quite frankly, I have no idea what we are doing anymore, Y/N,” he sighs, clearly tired of this insane game you’ve been playing without even knowing.

“So… you did all of this, because… you…”

“Because I like you, Y/N. But there’s a possibility it’s already way more than just a strong liking,” he admits with a soft chuckle that melts you in an instant.

“Oh god, I could cry again, but not out of fear this time,” you tell him, making him laugh as you scoot closer to him on the mattress. “I feel the same way, Harry,” you softly tell him, your hands finding the base of his neck while his hands have wandered to your waist so now he is pulling you towards him until he ends up in his lap. His face is now so close, and even in the dark, you can see the cheesy smile on his pink lips.

“You’re not saying this just to keep me here because you’re scared to be alone, right?” he asks, clearly joking, earning a wholehearted laugh from you.

“No, but I guess that would be a major benefit of it.”

“I’ll protect you from all the demons and killers under one condition,” he smirks, his face already inching closer, his nose is already touching yours.

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

“I get to kiss you.”

“Deal.”

You barely say this one little word, his lips are already on yours, kissing you in a way that almost knocks all the air out of your lungs. You press yourself up against him, his arms curling around you, holding you tight as if he is already protecting you from everything that scares you, though you can’t really think about the stupid horror movies now that you’re kissing Harry.

He pulls you down with himself making you lie on your back as he holds himself up above you, his lips parting from your just enough so he can look into your eyes.

“How about I kiss you every time you feel scared?” he prompts, pecking your lips gently as you pull your legs up and his hips settle between your thighs, while your hands dance down his back.

“Alright, I’m in,” you smirk at him and for a moment he just stares back at you, smiling wide, in complete awe that it’s finally happening. Then he cocks his head to the side before speaking up.

“Are you still scared?”

“Very,” you nod. “I’m shaking.”

“Good,” he grins before his lips press onto yours again.

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles oneshots #harry styles one shots #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic

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littlemisslipbalm · 3 years

Text

“you make me so angry sometimes”

idk if this gif makes sense, but i feel like it will if you read the story, it just gives me that vibe.

A one shot I cooked up idk, it’s about Harry and a makeup artist on DWD, it’s quite angsty, idk how that happened, it’s also very long, idk how that happened either, maybe i do a part 2, maybe i don’t idk lmk. Feedback is appreciated, not proofread. REBLOGS help writers tremendously and i love reading whatever you write in the tags its my favorite thing!! Love yall and Merry Christmas!

Word Count: 17.7k | Warnings: ENEMIES to LOVERS! swearing, angst!, some anxiety -like self-doubt, yn being mean to harry kind of a lot, i dont remember, nothing too crazy, Nick Kroll?, lots of conversation

When she pictured herself as a makeup artist in Los Angeles, she hadn’t pictured exactly what she was doing right now.

She had expected doing gorgeous makeup for gorgeous actresses or doing wildly fun stuff like in Euphoria. And because of that she had worked her ass off to get where she was today. She had practiced for hours, worked countless hours for free, and networked to the cows came fucking home.

So why the fuck was she using tattoo-strength concealer to cover up the maybe 60 tattoos some asshole musician turned actor had all over?

Don’t Worry Darling was her first major film to work on so she couldn’t complain. She was happy to simply be there. Well she had been. The first day she had showed up 15 minutes early and had worn her favorite power suit she had. It was dark navy with a white lace long sleeve turtleneck underneath. She hoped to look fun but professional.

Hollywood was all about impressions, especially first ones, even when you’re the makeup artist. She had quickly learned that she was one of six makeup artists. One of them being the friend who had helped her get the job, Angie. Angie was like her surrogate mother in Los Angeles that she had met on her first film job for something much less high profile than Olivia Wilde’s second directing project. Her braided grey hair and fabulous jeans had drawn Y/N right in and they had connected instantly.

Since Y/N was deemed the most inexperienced by the head of the makeup department, she was relegated to easier jobs: assisting the other artists on main characters sometimes, mostly dealing with minor characters touch ups (and full make-up if she was lucky), and the job nobody wanted: tattoo coverage.

Harry Styles was one of the leads for the film and besides his minimal acting, everyone knew he was a worldwide rockstar. With the rock and roll life starting off as a popstar life at the ripe age of 16, he had amassed around 60 tattoos in the past decade. Impressive by her standard normally. She usually counted herself as an appreciator of tattoos and their art, finding them similar to makeup and the self expression that came with both forms. Especially since she had a few of her own, but when she walked into Trailer #6 and saw a good amount of Harry’s tattoos, she wanted to murder every artist he’d ever been to.

She had to make an inventory the first day of all of his visible tattoos when he was just wearing boxers. He had been friendly, trying to make conversation, but as the time wore on, they both grew tired and silent. She had to write down the location and a description of every tattoo and as he took off everything but boxers she grew more and more annoyed with his random and dumb tattoos. Some of them were amazing, the eagle, the anchor, the butterfly, and the ferns were probably her favorites. But some of them, she couldn't hold back her rolling eyes and annoyed expressions. The “Big” on his right big toe, a miniscule lock, almost everything on his inner left arm (the packers logo, Pingu, etc.)

She traces at the rose and the ship and then flips his arm out to reveal his inner arm to her gaze. “That is a big fucking bee.”

He snickers, “Y’like it?”

She ignores his question. “For god’s sake, someone is needle happy,” she said as she examined his left arm, taking note of every permanent drawing.

He shrugs his right shoulder, uninhibited by her prodding. “Dunno, beginning to regret some of them.”

“I would hope,” she mutters, scribbling on her paper the various ones she had just seen on his arm. Next was his ribcage ones.

He scoffs, “Oi, it’s not like you haven’t got any.”

“How would you-” She looks at him wide eyed.

“Right…” he takes his right hand and pushes her hair past her ear to reveal three little red line butterflies following the curve of her ear, “There. At least.”

She huffs and knocks his hand away from her. Her hair falling back into its place.

“Maybe some located in a few more intimate places I’m guessing from the red rushing to your cheeks right now.”

“Can you just let me do my job,” she says, not giving in to his teasing or sparing him a glance as she feels his intense gaze on her face. She was studying his left rib cage where a few cool tattoos happened to be.

“You at least have some taste or persuasive artists because not all of these are shit,” she speaks again after just the sound of her pen on the paper filled the trailer.

“Gee, thanks,” he laughs unamused and rolls his large green eyes.

She thought he had some of the biggest eyes she’d ever seen. But she also knew to keep that to herself because he’d either take it as a compliment and think she was noticing him too much or he’d take it as a massive insult and get her fired.

His right hand taps at his thigh, tapping a rhythm she didn’t care to pay any attention too. She just wanted to finish the stupid inventory of the stupid tattoos on this stupid man.

“Take those off,” she says to Harry, looking back at her clipboard again, filling up quickly with her notes.

He stands there, staring at her stubbornly. He was entirely bored with this exercise, especially since his company was some of the worst he’s ever had. She spares him a glance when she doesn’t notice any slipping off of the colorful sweatpants he’s wearing.

She arches a brow at him, her pen tapping impatiently against the paper. “Go on. Can’t imagine you want this to go on longer than it already has.”

He rolls his eyes again, slipping his thumbs into the waistline of the pants and tugging down. Simultaneously, he toes off the dirty vans he seemed to wear everywhere. The fabric pools easily and he steps out of them and discards them on the couch behind him. He’s actually wearing black briefs. She chooses not to notice anything further than that.

“Socks...can stay on,” She tries to say as he begins to peel one off. He stops midway and nods.

She flings his shirt to him, not needing to see his naked torso for another moment, “I know you’ve got some feet and ankle tats, but I also know that you won’t be wearing anything that will expose them. Thank your lucky stars that I don’t have to makeup your feet.”

He catches the shirt easily and slips his arms inside before tugging it quickly over his head and over his expansive shoulders. The ferns disappear out of sight.

“Well then we’re almost done then. Just got the knee ones -”

“And the tiger. That’s gonna be one son of a bitch,” she sighs and examines his legs, not bothering to crouch.

“What the actual fuck dude?” Her tone is exasperate and like she would rather be anywhere else than here.

“I’m sorry?” He sputters, hands on his hips and eyes bewildered.

“Yes. No. Oui. Non. Who are you?” She rubs at her eyes and shakers her head.

“S’a little rude.”

“You’re right,” she semi-rushes out at his serious tone, ready to apologize. When a grin spreads over his face and he chuckles under his breath she really wants to smack him upside the head. He was exhausting. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Thought it was funny at the time. Kind of think it’s even funnier now since it’s got you all mad.” He leans over her shoulder to look at her notes and when she glances at him unhappily he just looks smug.

“Alright,” she finishes the scribble of a description and clicks the end of her pen, “All done. You can get dressed. I’ll see you bright and early for tattoo makeup. It’s gonna take about an hour to do all this, just so you can mentally prepare for that.”

“It was nice to meet you,” he attempts at a friendly and professional farewell. “See you tomorrow…” he trails off as he watches her turn on her heel and walk out of the trailer door swiftly. The door swung shut and bounced a little bit in her wake.

Harry sighed and adjusted his clothes and hair in the mirror. After a moment he shakes his head, an even louder sigh escaping him.

“Good morning!” She greets happily, walking into the trailer without a knock. Well-rested and happy at least that she doesn’t have to just inspect a body, she looks around the trailer.

She realizes no one is there and she’s taken aback. First of all, if Harry wasn’t there then he shouldn’t have left his trailer unlocked. And second, he was fucking late, the fucking twat.

She grumbles, setting her coffee on the countertop. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “In through the nose, out through the mouth” she mutters. She knew this was a big opportunity and having a big star like Harry in her corner could make her career. She needed them to get off on a better foot today.

“Good form, I’d say relax the shoulders a little more,” the door swings open carrying the California twang-British accent that she would soon become all too accustomed to.

Harry points at her shoulders and narrows his eyes regarding her in the trailer. She offers a strained smile through the mirror and Harry sets down his personal things on the couch.

“Alright, well let’s get started shall we,” she smiles and turns to him, gesturing to the swivel chair next to her.

He nods, a twinkle in his eye as he regards her. He’s unsure of the tone and attitude she’s giving him today. She had been feisty yesterday, cordial at times, but mostly biting and witty. He had liked it. It had made the whole ordeal bearable whereas now she seemed to be laying it on a little thick.

“Just your hands and neck today,” she says, pulling out the makeup materials needed and a checklist of the tattoos she needed to make sure were invisible.

“Should only take..a little under an hour today. Just gonna remind you now though, other days we won’t be so lucky.”

Harry chuckles under his breath and rolls his head around his shoulders before sitting in the chair. “Were you tired yesterday?” He inquires.

“Why do you ask?” She throws a glance over her shoulder at Harry. He’s begun slipping off his sweatshirt and yawns as he does it.

“You seem different from yesterday and I’m just wondering which one is the real you.”

She continues working about the room and rolls her eyes to herself, “I’m always the real me. I come no other way, but this morning I woke up and thought ‘this is the job you’ve fucking wanted for ages, so stop being such a bitch so you don’t get fired, you prick’.” She pauses and turns to face Harry. “The ‘you prick’ was directed at me, that was still part of my thought,” she adds.

He throws his head back and laughs. Then he nods, still laughing lightly, “I get that. Sometimes I’m just so in my head and yesterday I was just so fuckin’ bored. Sorry if I got on your nerves.”

“Don’t mention it.” She waves her hand at him nonchalantly.

Then she moves to inspect his hands and notices the lack of rings, unlike yesterday when she had to make him take them off.

“You have amazing cuticles,” she notices and mentions without any pretences. Harry mutters his thanks, pursing his lips as he watches her work.

She stops her inspection and places the clipboard on the countertop in front of them.

“Could you take your necklaces off? I need to cover up half of the swallows and the years, for when you unbutton your shirt a bit.”

He wets his lips and nods, hands going to fiddle with the clasps behind his neck. He slips off one of the necklaces with ease, a yellow eye beaded necklace that he lays gently on the countertop next to the clipboard. Then he takes his cross and pulls it over his head, no clasp needed.

“Could I put some music on?” Harry asks after five minutes of Y/N working in silence and Harry only being able to stare either at himself, her work, or nowhere.

“I can,” she stops her work for a moment, “Can’t have you messing up the makeup before it sets. Otherwise I’d have to kill you.” Harry can’t be sure if she’s joking or not. Therefore, he was intent on not messing it up.

“Any requests?” She stands at the counter now, instead of seated on a stool working on Harry's left hand.

He shrugs, like he hasn’t got the faintest idea about good music. She refrains from rolling her eyes once again because she feels herself in a test. She wets her lips, sifting through different things in her Spotify and then lands on her playlist titled “it’s your song” named after Elton John’s song. It had some other musicians, a mix of Queen, Bowie, and more and she was sure she would pass the test.

She presses shuffle and She’s Always A Woman by Billy Joel begins to play over her laptop. Harry nods pleased and she wants to shake her head at him.

She can’t hold back the scoff though after a moment of going back to finishing his hand.

“What?” His British accent thickens with his annoyance growing.

“Nothing,” she chirps, intently putting the final touches on his wrist.

“Seriously. What?”

She stands and sets down the makeup. “Can you unbutton your shirt?” She made a note to herself that from now on she’d have to have him take his shirt off before setting to work because if his hands got messed up she’d have to start over. Thankfully he was already wearing a button up this morning.

He stares at her, offering no movement, just inquisitively waiting for her to respond to his original question.

She shuts her eyes, taking another deep breath and then bites at her lower lip. “It’s just...you’re so easy to read.” She fears adding anything else and moves towards him with the makeup hoping to encourage him to unbutton his shirt.

His right hand deftly pulls at the buttons as he regards her. His eyes are intent on her, she can see him clearly calculating her. Her green paisley button up tucked up into the back of her bra leaving a splay of her stomach. The semi-balloon sleeves cinched at the wrists leading to her slightly ringed hands. The oversized blue jeans that have no holes, just a tiny patch right next to the left pocket. The frayed ends of the pants laying over her rather pristine white old skool vans.

The Boxer fades in as she waits for him to finish the unbuttoning of the shirt. He’s still staring at her.

“Am I?” He finally inquires, voice pitched higher like he doesn’t believe her.

She gives him a serious stare and leans over him and adjusts the collar of his shirt. She adds paper towels to avoid makeup on his clothes.

“Yes!” She laughs, “And you don’t even think so, which is like...of course.”

He hums, tilting his head back as she sets to work on covering up the swallows. He wiggles his hands that now both rest on the arm chairs.

“I don’t see it.”

“Of course you don’t,” she glances at his face, their eyes meeting for a moment. “You’re Harry Styles. Everyone is in love with this image you created for yourself and it has just enough of your true self that people feel like they really know you, but you also maintain the illusion. So you think you’re this mysteriously amazing, not like the rest guy, but you are just like the rest of them. Obsessed with yourself and rich so you’re deemed eccentric rather than crazy for all the extravagant shit you do. So when you want me to play music and don’t offer any suggestions I know exactly what music I need to play for you to like me.”

“I feel like that last part says more about you than it does me,” he quirks a brow at her, straining his neck to look at her face as she continues to work.

She flushes, his response both better and worse than she expected. She had gotten a little carried away in her response and she had no idea why. She truly wasn’t one to go off on people so easily and especially not with someone she hardly knew, but something about Harry had her on edge. She was just thankful he hadn’t gotten mad at her response, instead he took it in stride. Further proving her point that he was extremely smart and did things purposefully and she saw right through it all.

She grumbles, “It says that all anyone has to do to get close to you is understand the smallest bit about you and you’ll let them in.”

“That is just so completely wrong, Y/N, I hate to break it to you.” It’s Harry rolling his eyes now, unable to move much more of his body as she continues painting on the concealer to remove his tattoos for the movie.

“Fine. Enlighten me on what I got wrong.”

Their argument had all but drowned out their music. They both did love this music and ironically if they would just shut their mouths, they’d probably like each other a lot more.

“Might as well,” he sighs. “First of all, my image is authentic and of course I don’t want to give myself all away. I enjoy my privacy and for everyone to truly know me I’d have to give that up. Which I’m not keen on. So, I regret to inform you but I am the same guy everyone is “in love with”. Second, I know I am a little self-involved, how else would I get here if I wasn’t constantly taking inventory of myself and reevaluating who I am. As a musician, I want to give as much of myself as possible or else it just feels inauthentic. And the extravagant thing, I can’t help that I like nice things and my job has allowed me to afford those things.”

He stops to take a deep breath and she’s working in stunned silence, in disbelief that Harry is even telling her any of this or that he’s spoken that much and so quickly. Wasn’t he notorious for speaking slowly with barely even a sentence worth of actual information. He sounds tired and frustrated, but also, surprisingly, sincere.

He continues, “The music thing. Maybe it was a test, but still it doesn’t mean I give everyone a mile when they say their favorite musicians match up with mine or something. I note that they either did their homework or might be an interesting person to get to know.”

“So which am I?” She widens her eyes.

“Obviously the second even if you’re also making it painfully clear that you don’t like me.”

“You’re smarter than I thought, Harry. I’ll give you that,” she smirks slyly, finishing up the bird coverage now.

He laughs. “Thanks,” he drawls out.

“And I admit that maybe you aren’t as easy to read as I made out, but I think we’re going to have to agree to disagree about the whole being your authentic self. I just don’t buy it. I can see your mind working constantly, you’re not one to just let yourself be free in public. And I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, I’m just saying, you shouldn’t pretend like that’s not what you’re doing.”

Her final thought leaves Harry silent. She pays no attention to his silence or at least she’s actively ignoring it. Instead she tunes back into the music that had gotten them back onto the wrong foot. This was going to be a long few months.

When she’s satisfied with her work, she has them sit there for thirty minutes to give it all time to set before Harry is off to hair and other makeup. They sit there listening to music. Neither of them have spoken again, except instructions from her and Harry’s hums of approval of songs.

Harry stands up after thirty minutes as she stays behind to pack up some items. Just as he’s about to step out of the door, he turns and calls her name.

“For the record, I don’t think you’re giving me a fair shot. You said yourself that you’re different every day. That every version of you, is you. So I hope you’ll give me the same allowance, every version of me is me. In this trailer, in my music videos, on tv, in interviews, in my free time. It’s all truly me.”

She bites her inner cheek as he ducks his head and exits the trailer, not allowing her any response.

“You’re late!”

“Meeting ran over with Nick and Olivia. Sorry,” Harry says as he begins to undress.

It’s the first day she has to cover all of his tattoos. It was going to take forever by all accounts. It had been two weeks since shooting had begun and she had gotten the simple hands and neck down to 45 minutes so she could only dread what his entire body would take.

“It’s fine,” she grumbles, knowing there wasn’t really anything else she could say about him coming late from a meeting with the director and producer.

Over the last two weeks, they hadn’t grown any fonder of one another. Not at all. They at least had gotten into a system though and she was grateful for that at least.

They showed up, Harry got in his chair, she set up the music, and they got to work. Harry would practice lines on some days and he’d tell her that before she turned on the music so there were no interruptions. Sometimes they talked about stuff on set or music or she’d give Harry his line when he was trying to be off script and forgot one. She wouldn’t classify it as pleasant, but they weren’t at each other throats like they were originally.

Trailer 6 had gotten a little homier as the weeks went by, too. Harry began leaving some of his stuff there and he started putting up silly drawings he would make while on set or polaroids people had taken with him while he was there. He tacked up napkins of restaurants that catered the set and wrote funny jokes and quotes on post it notes. His personal assistants sometimes brought in snacks while Y/N was still working and Harry always offered her some. They were usually healthy, but sometimes she’d eat some. Jeff, his manager, had also stopped by on occasion during his tattoo touch-ups that had become a thing after shooting days had grown longer.

On first meeting, Jeff had said, “Y/N? Harry mentioned you.”

She had turned to Harry with an arched brow and he had shrugged. When she looked back at Jeff she didn’t see Harry give Jeff one of the deadliest looks he could muster. She had grimaced and said “Well we spend enough time together for him to know my name. So thank god for that at least.”

They had all laughed and she had gotten back to work on Harry’s wrist.

Today, she needed Harry in his shorts. It was the first day of shooting where his character would be only in his boxers so she had to cover up all his visible tattoos. Olivia had told the makeup department they actually had to cover up his feet tattoos as well. She wanted him sockless in the scene and Y/N had groaned immediately when she made it to the trailer and Harry wasn’t already there.

“But please, for the sake of my job, strip, dude.” She says, arms crossed over her chest and leaning against the counter as she watched Harry set his things down. Her soft green striped cardigan is open, exposing the white tank top sitting underneath. Her bright green shorts hang loose on her, cinched at the waist and folded over once. Her white high top nike’s tap impatiently on the floor, waiting for Harry to get moving.

He nodded, truly feeling sorry for his tardiness, knowing today was a long day. He was anxious and tired. Acting was a different experience to music and he just was really trying his best.

As he began to take off his shirt, he laughed. His arms pulled the shirt over his head and when it popped out from beneath it, he repeated, “Strip, dude,” attempting to mimic her American accent.

He had practiced his American accent in front of her while running lines, but it had a 50’s drawl to it. His acting coach had been drilling him for weeks before shooting and he still liked to practice. The accent he had just down was far off from that and far off from hers too.

“Do not,” she warned.

“What?” He asks innocently and flutters his eyelashes.

She knows his game by now and she knows she should just ignore him. She knows this after fourteen days. She knows this after hours with him. She knows this, but then she’s opening her mouth and playing into his teases.

“Sorry, what’s a word you would know? Mate?” She tries for a British accent with the last word, knowing she can’t win this.

Harry snickers and scratches at his nose with his index finger before starting on taking off his pants. “You’re so Californian.”

“Thank you,” she chirps, moving to sit beside him now that he had settled.

“I like your shorts,” he muses, crossing his legs, likely a little cold.

She glances down at her cotton shorts that showed more of her thighs when she sat for a moment before returning her gaze to his left arm. The longest task of the day was this damn arm.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, “Wanted to be comfortable today. Knew it was gonna be long.”

A smile bubbles onto his face, his pink lips parting to reveal his shiny white teeth behind them. “So true.”

The music is low today. She had chosen Joni Mitchel’s Blue album for the first pick of the day. She had quickly learned Harry preferred listening to albums in order. It tended to make him less jumpy when the same artist came on multiple times like an album. So when she tried to play just an album one day, she found him more cooperative and less irritable.

After thirty minutes of work, she can’t stop noticing how shivery Harry is. It was late October in LA, so it was still warm, but admittedly the mornings could be a little chilly. His shivering was concerning for many reasons. Mainly he was messing up her work and concentration, but she also didn’t want him to get sick or something.

“Do you want me to see if they have a blanket and slippers or something? You look like you’re turning blue.”

Harry turns his attention to her. He had been reading over the script for today again. “That’d be great. I can call…” He trails off trying to think of the name of one of his assistants, but apparently he’s too scatterbrained for it. She assumed it was the hypothermia traveling to his brain already.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll walkie someone.” She says as she grabs the walkie talkie, flicking to the personal assistants channel.

“Hey,” she chirps happily. Harry noted how she talked to other people. So sweet, yet sincere. With him, it was serious and sincere but more biting, callous at times. Less so lately, but she definitely was sharper with him. He didn’t know if it even bothered him anymore. She was engaging if nothing else.

“Is someone free to bring two blankets and men’s slippers over to Trailer 6? I’ve got a naked Jack and I don’t want him freezing before I’m done covering up his tattoos.” She takes her finger off the talking button and glances sideways at him, “Who knows, maybe that would improve his acting. Y’know on second-thought-”

“Alright, alright,” Harry tries to grab for the walkie talkie, but she turns from him holding a finger up signalling him to wait as she listens for a response.

Someone says a simple “On it” and she turns off the walkie talkie and gets back to work.

“I took my finger off the speaker before I said the thing about your acting. Relax, Harry.” She says when he’s still glaring at her. “Just love to see you squirm.”

He shakes out his short chestnut hair, some of it falling over his forehead. Instinctively, she reaches up without even looking and smooths it back. Like she was tucking her own hair out of her eyes, but instead it was Harry’s. She decided to say nothing and was relieved when Harry didn’t say anything either.

She finishes his forearm and moves to his outer upper arm. The rose holds her attention when the PA knocks on the door and she has to race to get it. Nothing could stop her from moving on this work. It was already an hour in and she wanted to scream.

She swings open the door and she wants to die. It was Autumn. Her least favorite PA, of course. She was insufferable and obsessed with Harry. Which was not why Y/N found Autumn insufferable. There were so many more reasons. So many. But that particular character flaw didn’t help her case either. Y/N tried to just take the blankets and slippers from Autumn, but the woman insisted that she come in.

“I’ve got it,” Y/N says.

“No, don’t want you to get makeup on anything,” Autumn’s saccharine voice grinds at her ears and she contemplates cutting them off.

Harry sat in his chair, legs crossed, nodding along to the music, his script discarded on the counter in front of him.

“Hi Harry!” Autumn practically yells, walking right up to him.

Y/N takes a deep breath at the door, letting it swing shut. She bites her lower lip as an attempt to bite her tongue as she walks back to her set-up. The set-up Autumn was conveniently blocking.

“Hello, Autumn,” Harry says kindly, making eye contact with her. “How’re you today?”

“So great! So great! Thanks for asking. How are you?” She points a finger at him like she might poke him and Harry squirms away from her a bit. She, of course, doesn’t notice this.

“Well, thanks.” His eyes flicker to Y/N, who is standing behind Autumn, hands on her hips and attempting not to tap her foot. His tone is clearly dismissive, but Autumn must ignore it. Y/N knows Autumn isn’t as helpless as she tries to come off.

Autumn asks, “Where do you want these?”, gesturing to the two blankets and slippers stacked on top.

“Just on the counter is fine, thanks,” Harry says.

Autumn does as he says and then stands there with baited breath. Y/N’s not sure what she’s expecting. For Harry to ask for her hand in marriage or something? But he just glances between the two women. His own foot begins wiggling in impatience.

“Busy day,” He attempts at dismissing her once again - with kindness.

“Oh my gosh, totally!” Autumn gushes, starting to go off on all of the tasks she has to do. She stands so close to Harry, Y/N genuinely thinks she’s going to sit in his lap. Y/N stares up to the ceiling, begging god or whoever to end her misery right there and then.

Harry sees Y/N’s expression and tries to maintain the neutral expression he’s had for the entirely too long interaction. A smile threatens at his rosey lips that had chapped from the morning air.

“Right, well,” he cuts off Autumn, “Y/N needs to get back to tattoo coverage, I think. So...have a nice day.”

Autumn’s eyes widen like she forgot that there was anyone else in the room and steps back from Harry. Y/N nods, a grimace clear on her face. Autumn gives her the same small she used to get from the popular girls in high school when she happened to be talking to their cool guy friend that they wanted to be more than friends with. Sickeningly sweet and completely fake. She could see the contempt in Autumn’s eyes that swirled just beneath the surface of her perfectly outlined green-ish eyes.

“Okay! You too, Harry!” She begins walking to the door and Y/N takes her seat again, closing her eyes and counting to ten. “And Y/N,” Autumn adds as an afterthought.

“Oh my fucking god,” Y/N sighs, her hands going to rub over her face and through her hair. “That was exhausting. Jesus Christ.”

“What? She’s nice. Maybe a little clueless,” Harry counters. “But she was so nice,” he confirms again, seemingly trying to convince himself of it as well.

She grabs the slippers and slips them on the ground so Harry can put them on easily. Then one of the blankets that she drapes over Harry’s bottom half. He smiles at the gesture, a ‘thank you’ said in a whisper.

“Please, she knows what she’s doing,” Y/N scoffs, “And she’s obsessed with you!” She grabs the concealer to get back to work, “She was all over you and never took her eyes off of your body. It was like she wanted to touch you or something. It was icky.”

“You touch me,” Harry adds cheekily, adjusting beneath the warm blanket.

She laughs, a smile gracing her lips as she gives Harry a look. He was clever.

“It’s my job to touch you, Harry.”

Harry had really tried to not laugh, but it was just so funny. They both snicker, their eyes meeting for a moment longer than usual.

“Speaking of my job,” she adds after controlling her laughter, “Does she not realize just how long it takes to cover all of your bloody tattoos with this shit to make it look like you’re a pristine skinned 50’s psycho killer?”

She finishes the rose coverup and moves to the ship. Harry nods solemnly.

“It’s true...And it doesn’t help that you’re terrible at it, so it takes a thousand years longer than it should.” He adds, laughter overtaking his serious tone at the end.

“Oh my god!” She shrieks in delight, trying not to mess up her work, “That is so rude! I messed up one time - mostly because of you, by the way. And give me a break, this is so not what I thought I’d be doing as a makeup artist for movies.”

He nods again, muttering “Fair, fair.”

They grow silent, enjoying Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, the album that she had queued after Joni’s.

“The body thing, I just learned to ignore it, I think.” Harry mutters, eventually, but it’s thoughtless, like he’s not revealing anything about himself with the statement. But it kind of shocks her. Her eyes widen and she stops her work to stare at his face.

“Harry,” she waits till his eyes meet hers, “That’s, like, not normal. Are you serious?”

“I mean, I’m very comfortable with my body, like I haven’t minded the last 45 minutes of sitting practically nude in front of you. And I have plenty of revealing photos out in the world. I just don’t notice staring anymore, it’s not, I don’t think it’s what you’re thinking,” he tries to reassure her. His eyes are intent on hers, full of seriousness that hadn’t been there a few moments ago.

“It’s one thing to be comfortable in your skin and another to be desensitized to objectification,” she insists.

He nods. “I know. Thank you. I would let you know if what she had done had bothered me, so don’t worry. I felt completely safe the whole time.”

“Good,” she nods back and concentrates again. “Good,” she repeats once more under her breath. There had been way too many distractions already today and she wasn’t even done with his arm yet.

As she continues to work up his arm, Harry sings along to some of the songs on Elton’s album. He happily taps his feet to the different beats, now safely tucked in soft fluffy slippers. She would never admit just how amazing it is to be in the same room as Harry’s singing. It was truly special to be less than a foot from him and hear him sing just under the unique voice of Elton - who was someone he actually knew, which was equally as cool.

He hit every note and knew every word. She was impressed. How could she not be when a literal rockstar sat before her? This was the first time she was truly starstruck by her charge, Mr. Harry Styles.

By two hours, they had moved onto an album by Dolly Parton and they were both singing. They strangely had no fights today, maybe some snarky comments from both of them, but no outright mean-spirited words were exchanged.

She stood in front of Harry, finishing up the swallows. She had finished both arms and the birds, all she had left was moving down his body. Up next, the butterfly.

“I love this tattoo,” she mumbles, twisting Harry’s standing body to face her and taking her seat again. This left her eye to eye with the butterfly on his stomach.

He makes a surprised face and raises his recently plucked eyebrow at his counterpart. “Oh really?”

“Don’t act so surprised. I told you day one that not all of them are rubbish and honestly they’re all pretty cool. I just was so annoyed that I had gotten tattoo coverage as my job and then I had to go and index them all.” She flicks her eyes up to his sculpted face and sees he’s watching her work. “Plus, I have some butterflies of my own, remember?” She grins.

“Yeah,” he ponders her words, “I don’t think that’d put me in a good mood either.”

He pauses again and she continues to work silently.

“So what’s your excuse for the second day then?”

“You provoked me,” she doesn’t spare him a glance, shrugging like it was the simplest answer in the world.

“Pardon?”

“Let’s not go down this road again, Harry.” She sighs, smoothing over the freshly covered butterfly tattoo. His sternum looked so naked, it was unnerving. Now the ferns.

Harry involuntarily shivered when her fingers traced over the ferns lightly, taking note of the expanse of skin she’d have to cover.

“You’re right,” he agrees, “But agree to disagree on the provocation.”

“Sure,” she says curtly, focusing on his skin and her job.

The expanse of skin that the ferns inhabited was slightly fleshy and especially soft. It bordered where his boxers began and she ignored that part of his body completely. It was of no importance to her and she really had no issue blocking it from her vision, even when it was right in front of her. She finishes one fern with Harry jumping only twice from her cold hands. He couldn’t put his robe on until the makeup had all set for half an hour so he’d have to be cold for possibly another hour still.

She traces the fern that is still visible and Harry shivers. She instinctively shushes him softly and his body quiets. As she works, her hair splays around her shoulders and Harry looks down at her working and doesn’t realize what his hand is doing until it’s too late. His right hand runs over her hair, smoothing it out of her face. It was rarely ever down, so it must have been the novelty of it.

“Sorry, I-” he chokes out when he jerks his hand back.

She sits back, slightly taken aback. Her body flushes just from their positioning and what a hair caress would mean normally in this position, but she’s a professional and she shakes it off.

“It’s fine. We’re even.” She assures him, breaking eye contact with his own wide eyes. “Seems like we’re both hair touchers.”

“It’s just so soothing,” Harry muses. “I think it’s human instinct to touch other people’s hair since it’s so enjoyable for yourself.”

“Possibly,” her voice raises, his thought was definitely plausible. Or maybe they were just two touch starved people who were very much in each other’s personal space 24/7.

At the two and a half hour marker, she gets a walkie message from Olivia’s assistant asking when they’d be done. She had just finished the tiger tattoo, which had been surprisingly easy. It took a while, but Harry didn’t shiver once and neither of them pet each other’s hair.

“Probably 40 minutes, sorry. He has a lot of tattoos and the makeup needs to set.” She says seriously and gets back to work, barely regarding the response of “Yeah it’s fine, just wanted an estimate”.

“Jesus,” Harry moans as she covers up his knee tattoos.

She groans in veiled disgust, “Did I just hit a secret erogenous zone? Is that why you have ‘oui’ there, you creep?” There’s a teasing tone behind the nickname she uses.

Harry laughs and runs his hand over his face, pulling at his jaw and lower lip. His jaw is so sharp, she watches him adjust it. “No, no. I’m just so goddamn tired of this.”

“And it’s not your fault,” he adds, feeling bad immediately after he said it. “It’s actually been nice today, but I’m feeling antsy, like I need to move. I don’t like to sit still.”

“I know,” she says under her breath. She simply nods in agreement.

Finally, the tattoos are all covered up and set. They had talked about George Michael when she got to his ankle tattoos that she hadn’t seen before and they laugh about the tattoos and chat a bit more. She helps him slip on his robe that he keeps in his closet in the trailer and then follows him out of it. They had decided they were hungry and he had been pushed back an hour since he had taken so long, so he had a free half-hour.

As they walked to craft services, they talked about actual things besides work. She was pleasantly surprised by what Harry talked about. It was more than music or the movie. It was the tv show he was currently obsessed with and how he hated LA’s traffic the most out of all of his dislikes for the city. She couldn’t help but grin at his Los Angeles slander. She loved this side of him.

Breakfast together after finishing his tattoo coverage became their regular thing. He would come into the trailer, racing from his morning meeting accompanied with tea for two, they’d get his tattoos covered as quickly as possible, and then they’d eat together.

They’d save their “in-depth” chats for breakfast. In early November, he joked about No Nut November and insisted he really wouldn’t have a problem with it - which had made her laugh. They worried together over the U.S. presidential election and meditated together in his trailer to Fleetwood Mac.

Around late November, Harry had requested that Y/N just do his face makeup as well, just to simplify his life a little more and the department had agreed easily. She had to spend extra time on set getting lectured on how to properly do Harry’s makeup, but after two days she stopped getting notes about it. She was so extremely proud and thankful to Harry for doing that.

All he said was: “I mean, you’re extremely talented so I’m not scared of you fucking up my face. Plus, it does make my life easier. Two birds with one stone.”

In late November, he told her about his favorite holiday drinks at Starbucks and what he was getting his mother for Christmas.

When the Vogue cover came out, he laughed over that woman who responded to his cover saying the world needed to bring back manly men. He joked that he was going to really push that from now on, that he was a manly man, and he would sputter with laughter every time he tried to say it with a straight face.

He hand delivered her a special ‘Treat People With Kindness’ sweatshirt that he only had for the cast and crew of the film. Most everyone got them from a PA, but Harry decided since you saw him first in the morning, why not.

He told her about him winning Hitmaker of the Year from Variety when he had left the award sitting in Trailer 6 and about how weird it was to film acceptance speeches in an empty room. His smile had lit up the entire set that day and the day he did his interview on set. He was so smiley she had to bump him with her elbow because he wouldn’t stop smiling at her and it was unnerving.

“Stop that,” She muttered.

“Stop what?” He smiles wider.

“That!” She squeaked, her head shaking as she ducked it to regard his anchor tattoo. “You’re smiling too much.”

“Oh no,” he says sarcastically, “God forbid I be happy.”

“It’s not that,” she bumps his thigh with her elbow, trying to keep her own smile off her face, “Your face is just so intense when you smile. Feels like you’re gonna burn a hole through me.”

He laughs, completely unconvinced, “You just don’t want me to be happy is what I’m hearing.”

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever, dude.”

She saw he was serious about the ‘manly men’ references when the Variety photos came out and everyone and their mom posted the pictures with some variation of that comment as their caption.

She still found that she rolled her eyes at some of the things Harry did, but she genuinely counted him as a friend by the time December had rolled around.

Over three hours, almost always completely alone, doing work for a job you both care deeply about can really make or break a relationship. And that first full-body coverage day had made them stronger together. After that, Harry and her would banter with one another, but there was never anything intentionally cruel. Just friends giving each other shit sometimes. Harry had been right, he had changed her mind about him. And she had realized that that was who Harry was. He was a deliverer. If you didn’t like him at first, he would try and try again until you did, but he did it in a way that wasn’t weasley or anything. It was terribly genuine and she saw it in every relationship he had on set.

On several occasions she had witnessed his friendship with Nick Kroll. A man she had regarded with dislike before the film. She had quickly realized that dislike was misplaced, but she maintained that it was just because she hated adult cartoons - citing that she literally refused to be friends with any person who willingly watched the Simpsons, Family Guy, and/or American Dad and all of those similar shows.

Nick was far nicer and less weird than she had realized. So she quickly shot her friend from high school an apology text for all the Nick Kroll slander she had spouted back in the day. Her friend had rejoiced but also said how jealous she was that Y/N got to see him regularly on set.

Nick and Harry got along great. Harry generally got along better with older people, she noticed when she was introduced to his friends on the somewhat frequent occasion. Trailer 6 was where Y/N saw most of these reactions take place. She would be introduced in the first minute and then she would smile politely and get back to the work of covering up Harry’s numerous tattoos.

Harry would say something simple and Nick, the literal famous comedian, would laugh. In the beginning she’d raise a brow, confused because it truly wasn’t that funny, but as Harry’s friend now, she kept her mouth shut.

Nick would come and sit on the couch while she’d work and eventually all three of them would chat. Sometimes she would get up to go to the bathroom during those morning chats and she would look in the mirror and think to herself “How are you casually talking to these two men right now” and then she’d think “Because you are a boss ass bitch, you got this” and go back out there with a smile on her face.

“Y/N, what are you doing tonight?” Nick asked on the first Friday morning of December.

She looks up from Harry’s cross tattoo that was half covered. Harry was reading, a book casually propped in his right hand and glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. He glanced at the other two in the room. Nick had been getting some work done before he had spoken.

“No plans,” she states simply before getting back to work. It wasn’t full body today, but it was arms and torso, so kind of a lot still.

“You should come over for dinner at my place with Harry,” Nick smiles kindly. His scruff was really coming in today. “To celebrate us almost wrapping the first half of the movie.”

Harry had thankfully freshly shaved before he sat down. It was her least favorite part of her new job. Whenever he came in for touch ups and she had to shave his afternoon shadow. She was terrified she’d cut him and never live it down from her department or Harry. She had no idea which would be worse.

“My wife will be there too, of course,” he adds, hoping to entice her to say yes.

Harry glances between Y/N and Nick again before focusing on his book again.

She purses her lips, finishing Harry’s hand and moving onto the anchor tattoo. “Yeah, I mean, I don’t know why I’d say no. As long as I’m not intruding on the throuple,” she grins up at Harry.

He stares at her with his big green eyes, slightly obscured behind his prescription glasses. He raises his brows and wiggles them a little bit, teasingly.

Nick laughs and slyly winks at Harry through the mirror. Y/N none the wiser as she removes all traces of Harry’s tattoos.

“Great!” He claps his hands and stands up. “We’ll talk or I’ll make sure Harry gets you the info or something. I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out. My wife’s been wanting to meet you,” he smiles again and walks out of the trailer.

She tilts her head at the last part. He talked about her to his wife. Did he really count her as that close of a friend? She was just a makeup artist and he was a producer… She glances at Harry and he gives away nothing. His jaw looks extra prominent and she knows it’s because he’s clenching it. He did that when he was focused or angry, remembering it bulging on the first day they met and how clenched it had been then.

“Unclench your jaw,” she mutters, “It’s not good for you.”

Harry hums and unclenches it.

He stretches his neck by rolling his head around his shoulders and she glances at the movement. His skin is still beautifully sun-kissed and his pores look so soft, only his moles change the texture of his skin. She loves his moles though, they make him especially unique in her eyes. Not that he needed anything else to set him apart from the crowd. Still, she loved them. His collarbone is prominent as he sits there shirtless and she wishes she could reach out and brush at it. But she gets back to work, knowing the only time she’s gonna be brushing near that part of him is when she’s covering dates in those dips behind his collarbones.

“Y’know, I could just drive you to Nick’s tonight,” Harry says, putting his book down and taking off his glasses. He rubs at his eye with his free hand.

“You’re blind and British, how do I know you can even drive yourself?” She asks sillily, pointing to his glasses.

He shakes his head, “I’m serious, Y/N. Aren’t you staying in the same area as me?”

He asks because they had relocated to Palm Springs a little while ago and everyone had gotten rentals and it was hard to remember where everyone was holed up when they weren’t on set.

“Yeah, think so. But you don’t need to pick me up. I have a car.”

“Nonsense. I’ve been to his place before, don’t want you to have to deal with directions, that’s just silly.”

“I guess...” she resigns relatively easily. She had never hung out with Harry off the set or Nick for that matter. It felt surreal, but she knew the right answer was usually just say yes in these situations. So that’s what she says. “Yes, that’d be great, thank you,” she confirms and watches as Harry’s eyes glimmer softly before turning back to his book. A triumphant soft smirk rests on his face.

The words die out between the two of them as she works on. He hums along to the music and continues reading his book. When she’s done with his tattoo coverage and his face makeup, she sends him off to hair and the rest of his day. He gives a flirty wink as he walks out the door and she rolls her eyes in response. She tidies up her kit and then goes to do some other makeup work.

When she wasn’t working with Harry, she was assigned to some of the minor characters and doing their makeup. They were always her second concern, especially now that she did Harry’s makeup as well as his tattoos. As she works on them, she can feel her mind drifting to Harry. Harry and how they were friends now. She was pretty sure, right? They were friends. He had never really said a mean thing to her if she really thought about it. It was her… She had been rude and mean-spirited and he had just taken it. He rarely had even thrown it back at her. He was so good to her and patient and she realized that he had proven to her that he was good. He was better than good, he was kind and loving. Considerate. Wonderful. All of those positive superlatives, Harry filled them. And she had the audacity to be mean to him.

She paused the brush that was adding blush to an actresses cheek.

Lisa, the actress, looks at Y/N confusedly, “What’s wrong?”

Y/N twitches her head, refocusing on her task at hand. The realization of her pausing her work becomes clear as she looks between her hand and the cheek that has not enough blush on it. “Oh,” she breathes. “...I just realized that I was terrible to someone who doesn’t have a mean bone in their body.”

Lisa nods, “Apologize.”

“Yeah, I mean...We’ve kind of moved past the phase where we don’t get along. Like now we’re friends, but the realization just really hit me.” She sighs, picking up where she left off on Lisa’s makeup. “I’ll make sure to apologize next time I see them.”

Lisa smiles.

At the end of the day, Y/N realizes she left her tattoo coverage kit in Harry’s room after their touch-up session halfway through the day. She had run off to help with a makeup emergency for a tiny cut on a minor character’s face and forgotten to go back and grab her things. Another roll of her eyes and a huff of breath and then she’s walking back to Trailer 6, a place that seemed like a home away from home now. She knocks, patiently waiting at the bottom of the steps.

Harry swings open the door and props it with his hip. He’s got a toothbrush held in his mouth, slowly scrubbing back and forth with his left hand. His costume is somewhat taken off, he’s still got the pants on with suspenders hanging down, his chest was completely bare and he looked funny with some of his tattoos only being half covered based on what parts of his skin had been showing today. Her work. His skin looked half silky smooth and half tattooed like usual.

His naked skin seemingly left her breathless because as her eyes returned to Harry’s face, she breathed a soft, “Hi.”

“Hey,” a smirk twists onto his face. “Forget something?”

“Yes,” she nods, coming back to her senses and entering the trailer at Harry’s gesture.

She begins to pack up the kit that had been left haphazardly strewn around on his counter. “I’m sorry I left a mess like this, I got called over to something else and forgot.”

“Don’t worry darling,” Harry grins at his joke.

She looks up from her work and sees Harry in the reflection of the mirror. He’s wiping off the makeup from his chest and his beautiful tattoos reemerge as entire images.

She laughs humorlessly, “It gets less funny each time you use that.”

“That’s not true,” he looks at her through the mirror now, his green eyes trained on her face, “Everyone else still thinks it’s hilarious.”

“They’re humoring you and your fragile ego,” she winks and watches as Harry’s smirk twitches from his perfect face.

“You’ve got a very mean disposition, you know that?” He asks.

He finishes his chest and moves to remove the makeup from his left arm, glancing at the mirror every so often to check himself and to flicker his eyes over Y/N’s face.

She genuinely laughs at that, but scolds herself internally for being mean when she had planned to apologize the next time she saw Harry. This was the next time so why was she doing this instead?

“Rewrite sweet disposition for me?” Her voice honeyed. Clearly stubborn and terrible at saying sorry...maybe her and Harry were a better match than she realized.

Harry twists his lips as he slips on his t-shirt he was wearing today.

“Pick you up at 6:30?” He says as his head pops out from beneath the rainbow striped sweatshirt he slipped on top of the shirt. His chestnut hair had been toweled out and was flopping over his forehead slightly.

She sighs and zips close the kit, standing from the seat she had taken at his counter and turning to face him now.

“6:30 is perfect. Thanks again for doing this. I just can’t believe Nick Kroll is inviting me over for dinner!” She smiles, shifting to lean against the counter as she waits for Harry to finish up. She didn’t have to but for some reason she felt like she was in no rush.

“Are you serious?” He’s moved on to changing his pants now and he’s slipping on black sweatpants.

“Yeah…” She blinks and her eyes widen as Harry appraises her expression.

He straightens up after fixing a cuff on the pants and he can’t tell if she’s being genuine or sarcastic. It was always so hard to tell with her.

“I mean, Nick Kroll is like a huge celebrity and I know in the entertainment business you’re not supposed to get starstruck but when I was in college my sister thought he was weirdly hot and my friends and I would shit talk him. I don’t know, it’s just kind of surreal to be having dinner at his place. Like I’ve watched him on tv and now I’ll be eating with him...so weird.”

He shakes his head, beginning on his dirty vans now. A small laugh escapes his mouth and he glances between her and his shoe, scratching his head quickly. “I still can’t tell… It feels like you’re fucking with me right now.”

“I’m not!” She insists, her hands coming out in front of her in a confused fashion. “I used to watch that guy’s tv show then he’s my boss now he’s inviting me over for food? It’s a lot to process.”

“How come it’s not surreal to be having dinner with me then?” He asks semi-joking, a hint of offense tinged within it. It’s visible only in his knitted brow and twisted lip.

“Careful there, sailor. Venturing into some dangerously self-absorbed waters.” Her eyes light up, a quick raise of her brows accompany the shine, and she decides now is her time to head out. Especially as she thinks about getting ready for this soiree tonight. She needed to shower and pick out an outfit with less than two hours to prepare.

Harry sputters at her response and fumbles with his pink shoelace. “That’s not...that is - You’re being unfair. My question is valid.”

She shrugs her shoulders and skirts Harry’s attempt at grabbing at her arm to stop her from leaving. “Okay, Mr. Big Man On Campus. I promise you you’re the most popular boy in school.”

She blows him a kiss and walks out the door as he attempts to get her to come back by calling her name a few times and slightly shouting “C’mon! I wasn’t being insecure. That was a reasonable ask…”

He sighs and shakes his head again. Every interaction would end with one of them either rolling their eyes or shaking their head and usually a sigh on both of their lips. It was exhausting, but exhilarating too.

20 minutes later, Harry receives a text from Y/N: “You’re still picking me up right :))) ?”

He’s in his car, getting ready to finally leave after getting held up with last minute schedule changes that he had to be informed about by some PA that he had forgotten the name of. His lip quirks to the right and he closes his eyes for a second enjoying seeing her name on his phone screen for a moment.

He types back: “Of courseeee”.

“Fab.” She sends back, immediately followed by: “Fanks BMOC ;)”

A full smile rolls onto Harry’s face after he swipes his tongue over his lower lip. “Yeah, yeah, save it for the next guy” he types out quickly before throwing his phone gently beside him and driving back to his apartment. She made him feel young, not that he wasn’t young, but generally his friends didn’t text like she did.

At 6:28, she receives a text from Harry Styles - his name in her phone. A name she had never expected to see in her phone unless her Spotify was on shuffle. Yet, instead, his name popped up under messages and it read “Here!” followed by a quick “I think” and then a phone call coming through from the apparently anxious man himself.

“Hello Harry.” Her tone even. She throws little items into her purse, making sure everything she needs is there.

“Could you peek out your window? I’m not quite sure I’m at the right place and people are staring…” nerves laced in his rushed tone.

She ambles to the window and opens up the shade she had closed to change. Below her, she sees a sleek black Range Rover with a slightly disarrayed hairdo and big dark glasses peeking below the windshield. She ignored the instinct to retch at the sight of the Range Rover and peered at the lamp lit sight below her. It was definitely Harry, but she searched for the prying eyes he was worried about and saw none. Well, maybe a few, but it wasn’t a lot.

“I see you, I’ll be right out, dude. Just deep breaths, it’s mostly crew staying here right now so they’re just seeing that it’s you, another guy they work with. They won’t come up for pictures...I would hope.”

She hangs up with no farewell, snatches her purse from its place on the bed and races out the door. Harry smiles anxiously at her when she stands next to the passenger’s door and he unlocks it. She bites her lip and raises her brows, waiting to hear if anything terrible happened in the minute and a half it took her to come downstairs and out to the car.

“Hi,” he exhales.

A smirk crawls onto her features and her eyes sparkle with a bit of a childish glee that normally she didn’t exhibit as she glances at him. “Hi.” She says quietly. “Alright big boy?”

“‘M fine.” He huffs but balks at her smile that she maintains while she stares at him. “What?”

“Just happy to see you, I guess,” her smile returns after speaking and Harry glances between her face and the windshield in front of him.

He can’t tell if she’s being serious or not once again. But he fears that conversation of her either ridiculing him for thinking she is serious or being offended that he still can’t tell. Instead, he will keep his mouth shut. For the most part.

“Happy to see you, too,” his lips create a closed mouth smile quickly before turning out of the parking lot.

She watches him. Their first time together outside of work. And they were friends. She needed to get used to simply thinking that. He picked her up to take her to dinner with her other friend and his wife. This was normal life, just with big names behind those terms of relation. Jesus, she always said it didn’t bother her to be around celebrities so why did she think about it so damn much?

She twitches her head and refocuses on Harry and his driving. His jaw is clenched again and she wants to reach out and sooth it herself. Instead she starts to open her mouth to correct him, but stops herself from that as well. They weren’t at work and it didn’t feel like something just a friend would say right now. She refocuses on the view of his eyes that are barely visible while he regards the road. His large eyes that she had grown acquainted to are surveying what he’s doing, every so often drifting to the right side of the road to check out the lane beside him. But then, always back to right in front of him, leaving a crescent of green visible to her.

“Can feel you staring at me…” His voice sounds like it’s rolled around in gravel after the long work day. It makes her wonder if he’s supposed to have a vocal rest when he’s not at work, but then again it’s the weekend now so maybe it was fine. Maybe she should ask him. Or maybe she should stop worrying so much about him.

“Have I got something on my face?” His low register bumps her from her racing thoughts. He doesn’t take his eyes off the road, but she can see he’s widened his eyes in wonder.

“No! Of course not, I just was...making sure you weren’t going to crash us or something.” She grasps at straws, desperate to not be caught by Harry.

A low chuckle bubbles from his chest and he spares a small glance over at her bundled up in his passenger seat. She matches his gaze with something of distrust hidden behind her eyes. She hopes to convey that she’s being silly and when Harry turns back to look at the road unassumingly, she feels like she has won. The harmonies of the beginning of a Queen song take over the silence, Harry’s spindly fingers thrumming against the wheel.

They arrive at the Kroll’s Palm Springs residence at 6:50. 10 minutes early and the two twiddle their thumbs for a few minutes, trying to pass the time and not intrude earlier than they were supposed to. She appreciated that Harry liked to be timely but not early, similar to how she was.

“So what is the fascination with Range Rovers?” She queries, leaning against the door’s armrest. The back of her head touches against the semi-tinted window.

Harry shifts in his seat, seat belt no longer constricting him and no road requiring his attention as they sit in the driveway. He rushes a hand through his hair and lets a single strand of hair fall over his prominent forehead.

“Dunno,” he shrugs his shoulders and allows a hand to fall onto the steering wheel absentmindedly. “I don’t really prefer them anymore, but when I’m in LA and doing work, it makes things easier. My other cars are a little flashier...have more privacy in this.”

“Yet the effect is similar,” she muses.

Her head tilts to take in Harry’s appearance, sharp black silky button-up and dark green plaid slacks, and she rubs a hand over her jaw. His eyes flicker to the movement and attempt to really take it in, even in the dim glow of the lamp light outside barely peeking into the dark interior of the car.

“Effect?”

“Y’know…” She arches her brow at him. He feigns innocence or possibly the expression is genuine. She’s begun to realize Harry was as genuine as they came, but she just didn’t think he was that unaware. An assumption that was likely correct, but even Harry liked to pretend he was a completely unassuming individual.

“Forget it,” she finishes when he gives no indication that he knows what she is hinting at. She doesn’t want to get into it with him again. Especially when he plays at this game where he has no idea what she’s talking about. It made her feel like she was crazy for thinking he made these calculated decisions to get his desired outcomes.

They move on, neither of them quite sure what the other was getting at in that conversation. The two of them walk into the house a minute before their expected arrival time side by side and are greeted happily with Nick and his wife. They’re ushered in and Y/N is happily received by the happy couple.

“So, Y/N, how’s it been for you working with these two? I know they can be more than a handful - especially together,” Nick’s wife, Lily, asks after a sip of wine.

The group of four had been eating for a while with Nick and Harry bantering for quite a bit at the beginning about whether or not Harry would be willing to hand feed Nick. The answer was settled at “another time”.

Harry seems to have a very specific habit of watching whoever is speaking - no matter what. So after Lily has finished speaking, his gaze flickers to Y/N, the person his brain expects to speak next. He watches her attentively as she wipes her mouth on her napkin before speaking.

Her hair was styled differently tonight than it usually was on set, she had it down rather than up in a ponytail or braids. He hadn’t had time to really look at her when they had been in the car, his mind occupied with stress and exhaustion that he refocused into driving and deep breathing. Now, in the comfort of a trusted friend’s home, he was far more relaxed and able to truly take in her appearance, which he couldn’t help but think was beautiful. He’d have to tell her that at some point. That he thought she was beautiful. Not that he didn’t see her on set and think she was beautiful...he just hadn’t really thought about it before. She was his wily makeup artist who was critical of him most times, but occasionally sweet, who had an amazing taste in music and good aesthetic style. The beauty part of it all, he guessed wasn’t something integral to their relationship before.

But now he was sitting beside her at the Kroll’s nice dining table and she had her hair splayed in front and behind her shoulders with one side tucked behind her ear and her outfit fit her impeccably. The top she had on had capped sleeves that cinched with buttons at her delicate wrists and a severe drop to create a small sweetheart neckline just above the curve of her breasts. It was silky and shiny, a blush pink that complemented the high waisted dark grey slacks that flared over shiny black boots that he wasn’t sure where they ended beneath the pants.

“Well,” she starts, chuckling under her breath when she meets Harry’s stare, “Harry and I spend a lot of time together, covering up all his tattoos, and he yaps a lot. So, it’s actually pretty refreshing when Nick comes in, because Harry’s then talking half the normal amount.”

He huffs a scoff, while Lily and Nick laugh happily. Nick interjects an “ouch” for the bite she just took out of Harry, but she thought it was fine, he can take it.

Harry thought to himself that if she can serve it, then she can definitely take it. His eyes remain on her as he opens his mouth to speak, but then look at Lily when words actually come out. “Well, Y/N, she thinks she can read people really well, but it’s actually quite the opposite. She had me completely wrong when we first met, so I talk now in hopes that she’ll really understand me.”

His head tilts to her when he mentions her name, but otherwise doesn’t glance her way away again. He scrunches his nose at the end of his comment, implying he converses with her out of pity.

It’s her turn to scoff and stare at him unamused. Nick and Lily share a look, unsure of what was going on, they had concocted this dinner date idea in hopes to set the two up but the way this conversation was going, they seemed to be pushing each other further and further away from one another.

“That’s simply not true,” she says curtly and takes a sip of her quickly emptying wine glass.

“Which part?”

“Almost all of it, I’d say,” her eyes glaring back at him, fiery with a disdain he hadn’t seen in awhile. “You’re proving my original perception of you with every passing second,” she adds.

“Care to elaborate exactly what the original perception of me was for the class,” his eyes are wide and wild, any extra adoration he had started to feel towards her slipping away just as quickly as it had come, like a wave along the beach.

“You know, so why don’t you?”

“I want to hear you say it,” he grits out the command.

She shifts in her seat, glancing at Nick and Lily who are watching on and she has a feeling she won’t be getting an invitation again anytime soon. Lily gives her a semi-reassuring smile like she was sorry to have asked the question at all, but Y/N knows this is kind of her fault, not that she would ever admit that. Her comment could have been taken innocuously, but Harry’s pride wouldn’t let it slide. Like she said, she should have known better, the weeks of friendship were flying out the window and she was helping them along.

“And what if I don’t?”

“Have fun calling an uber at this time of night,” he shrugs, malice dripping in his tone.

She truly was taken aback at this. A slight sound of shock leaving her mouth. Harry was many things, impatient and anxious usually, but downright cruel with her, she had yet to see it. Arrogant and pompous, definitely, but this wickedness that was starting to creep from the shadows worried her. But the little fiery demon within her wasn’t going anywhere either - yet she might back down to save herself some money and hassle.

“Fine,” she raises her brows in a challenge to him and restates her original take on him - possibly adding a bit extra malice in her phrasing, “You are a shell of a man, held up by the people around you, creating the illusion of a completely genuine and down to earth rocker who dabbles in acting, philanthropy and all around goodness. No one’s ever had a bad experience because no one’s ever truly met you. Not the real you.” She takes a deep breath as she shakes her head in disbelief now, a sarcastic laugh leaving her mouth, “And I thought, I really thought, that I had been wrong. Because these past months you really fooled me with your sweet smile and deep eyes. But when it comes down to it, you tricked me just like everyone else.”

Harry stares at her blankly and she shakes her head once more, feeling foolish. For thinking Harry was someone he wasn’t. For thinking the past few months had been real. For thinking that tonight would go off without a hitch. And the shit part of it was that she had really hoped that all of it was true. She wanted this to be her life, but her instincts had been right. Beware of the picture perfect because it always is just a mirage of deceit and lies.

“All I’ve got to say is you’re a damn good actor Harry, so at least you’ve got that going for you.” Then she pushes back from the table and stands, turning to Nick and Lily. “I really am so sorry, I understand that you probably want me to leave, so I’ll just be going,” her voice faltering at the end, she wasn’t as strong as she liked to pretend and she was pretty sure she just ruined her chances of working again in Hollywood. You’d have to be an idiot to be an enemy of Harry Styles and she feels like she just became his first.

“No!” Nick says quickly, standing too, “I think things just escalated really quickly and some things were said that both of you didn’t mean. Um...just, let’s take a few minutes to cool off. Harry could you and Lily deal with the dishes and I’m going to talk with Y/N alone.”

Everyone nods and Y/N follows Nick down a hallway, a little confused but following after he beckons her with his hand. They go out a side door and end up on a porch in the backyard. He stoops down and opens a little sitting mailbox she didn’t see and pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He places one between his teeth and then offers one to her. She accepts, not usually a regular smoker, but right now seemed like a fair time to indulge in the bad habit. She needed to calm her rapidly beating heart.

He lights the cigarette for her when he sees her shaking hands and then in turn lights his own. They stand on the porch beside each other and stare out into the dark night sky.

“Well, this wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go,” Nick starts, after a few exhales of smoke.

“No,” she laughs nervously, her foot toeing at the wooden slate on the porch. “I shouldn’t have tried to make a joke.”

“No one’s to blame,” Nick says quickly, glancing at her, “You and Harry...you both have really strong personalities and I don’t think either of you are used to being challenged.”

She nods along, she definitely had to agree after the argument they had both willingly gotten into in front of other people.

“I think that can be a really good thing, challenging each other, because then you two can both grow. But what happened in there was more of a battle to the death rather than a friendly spar.”

“Yeah,” she exhales, flicking at the burning cigarette between her fingers, “I don’t know why he gets under my skin sometimes in a way I’ve never dealt with and it’s kind of uncomfortable so I lash out, I guess.”

Nick stays quiet, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Ugh,” she groans, “I wish I hadn’t done that. We were doing so well, it’s like I don’t even really know what I’m saying, it’s like I can’t handle a friendly spar, I always end up going in for the kill - as you put it.”

She rubs at her face with her free hand and then takes a drag herself. Nick bites at his lower lip, trying to think of a solution.

“Y’know? Lily and I had concocted this plan to try and set you and Harry up tonight,” he says slowly, revealing the plan that had clearly been taken off the table as they just needed to attempt to salvage cordiality.

“Really?!” She’s in complete disbelief and slight dismay that the plan was seemingly ruined.

“Well,” he sputters, “When the two of you aren’t throwing verbal fireballs at each other, you’re actually quite sweet to one another. Those fond little glances you hope no one sees, well he does that too, and you both fail miserably because I see it all the time. I’m sure plenty of people do too.”

“Oh,” she states, visibly deflating. She looks to the ashtray conveniently on a table behind her and presses out the rest of the cigarette. “Should probably talk to him, huh?”

Nick nods, stamping out his nub of a cigarette as well. They go back inside and into the kitchen where Lily and Harry have plated dessert. Harry looks a little sheepish, likely having a similar conversation with Lily and she wouldn’t be surprised if her expression looks similar, if not a bit more flushed from the outdoor chill.

Lily murmurs that she and Nick are going to eat their dessert in the living room, a fair bit away from the kitchen and the two now deflated counterparts nod and then stare at each other, knowing what they need to do.

“Can we talk?” Harry rasps out, his voice even lower as he speaks softly, a mere foot away from her in the kitchen.

She nods, but moves further from him to lean against the counter and tuck her hands behind her. She’s lost her appetite and doesn’t want Harry to see her shaking digits.

He’s ducked his head and a stray curl falls over his forehead, laying there softly. He doesn’t move to fix it, just stares at his feet until she begins to talk. He can’t not look at her face when she speaks.

“So…” She slowly starts, not enjoying the tension in the room. Her eyes can’t meet his though, his stare dark and unnerving like usual, but almost painfully so now. “I can start.” She kicks at the tiling on the floor like she had done outside as well, trying to not think about the eyes trained on her right now. “I’m sorry I lashed out on you, Harry. I didn’t mean what I said, it was just a heat of the moment response.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Harry says immediately once she finishes speaking, “I shouldn’t have gotten upset over a silly joke and brought up a sensitive subject. Then it escalated…”

“Yeah, I really liked the friendship we’ve garnered these past few months and I just can’t believe I almost ruined everything - including my career…” she squeaks at the end and tears start to roll from her eyes. “Oh god,” she is hit with the gravity of all that she almost ruined as Harry stares at her again. “I’m so sorry, Harry, I really am. Do you forgive me? I don’t think I could stand it if you didn’t.”

She stands there and feels sobs wrack through her and her hands go to cover her face out of embarrassment. She had caused a scene and now she was making another one. In front of Harry.

In an instant his arms are wrapped around her frame and he’s hushing her cries. They had never hugged before, but now seemed like as good a time as ever. His arms were strong around her and she pressed her face into his chest, not caring at all about how she looked or whether this was worse than getting in a fight and running off.

“Of course I forgive you,” he says and then begins repeating her name over and over, trying to soothe her. He definitely had been hurt by her words, but it seemed like she was more upset about the whole situation than he was and he didn’t think bringing up what specifically had hurt him would help her frame of mind.

She settles after some time, her whimpers and tears subsiding after being rocked into a more peaceful mindset with the help of Harry’s calming voice and reassuring embrace.

“I really am sorry,” she whispers again.

Harry pulls his neck back and his head off the top of her head to look at her face. It was tear stained and her eyes were glassy, lips slightly puffy. He gave her a soft tight-lipped smile. “No more apologies,” he states sternly and then softens again at the slight quiver in her lip. He pulls from her a little more, leaving her at arm's length, with his hands still attached to her hips, fingers slipping over the plaid fabric. “I meant to tell you this earlier, before things…” he stares at her face again and she holds it this time, “You look beautiful tonight.”

She scoffs and her eyes immediately drop to her feet, “Definitely not anymore.” She doesn’t believe Harry.

“‘M serious,” he insists. His right index finger goes to rest beneath her chin and brings her face up to look back at him.

“Sure,” she says, still not convinced but not sure how else to respond. She feels herself warming at all the positive attention he’s pouring into her.

His gaze won’t falter from her face, he’s intent upon making her understand him. He whispers her name, “Accept the compliment.”

“You’re stubborn,” she notes.

“So are you,” he counters quickly.

“Fine, thank you,” she sighs when he won’t stop giving her that look of his. That look that makes her want to melt into the ground because it feels like she’s the only person in the world. “Though you looked especially good tonight, too,” she adds, her hands rubbing over his shoulders softly.

“Thank you,” Harry states lowly, the words only traveling to her ears. His hands fiddle with the sides of her top, thinking about the night and where they were now. Her eyes were red from crying and overall she looked tired beyond her years. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“That’d be nice.”

They make a quiet farewell to Nick and Lily, as well as apologies from both her and Harry. They don’t speak in the car and the music plays loud enough for it to not seem unreasonable for them to be silent. Harry’s hands don’t tap against the steering wheel, they sit in their spots stoically doing their job and nothing more. She watches the window, legs crossed and hands clasped in her lap. She’s thankful for the music because she knows that even though they had talked, it wasn’t enough. What she had said was hurtful and one apology wasn’t enough for how she had behaved. She didn’t think her and Harry would be the same after tonight, but the silence made it possible for her to pretend none of it had happened.

Just as Harry’s car is pulling up the apartment complex that is far darker now, the harsh splatter of rain begins to fall on the pavement and the sleek black car the two are still sat in.

“Oh,” she comments offhandedly, just responding to what she had noticed.

The rain grows louder when Harry parks and then turns off the car. He glances at her for the first time since they got into the car. She registers the look out of the corner of her eye, her face still looking out at the rain. She loved the rain, but there wasn’t always a lot in Southern California, especially not in Palm Springs. It seemed that tonight was different.

“Well,” Harry breaks his silence, she thinks that’s her cue to leave and unbuckles her seatbelt, but he continues. “This certainly wasn’t how I expected this night to go.”

She stops moving, her hand hovering over the handle of the door. She sits back and settles into the seat, feeling her teeth bite into the plush of her bottom lip.

“That’s what people keep saying,” her eyes remain on the rain hitting the front of the car, the splatters of seemingly black liquid that form when the clear rain touches the onyx hood of the car.

“Huh?” Harry grows perplexed at the rather wistful tone of her and how she won’t look at him again. He was still hurt, but he had hoped them talking in the kitchen had straightened some things out. During the car ride he hadn’t wanted to talk, but it didn’t mean he was still angry with her. Just confused, and growing further confused by the second.

“Oh,” she repeats, “Didn’t Lily say? Her and Nick concocted that dinner in hopes to set us up.”

Harry hums, knowing that because Nick had left out a little part of that plan. That he had been a part of it. He had been talking with Nick about getting to know her better outside of work and how Nick had thought it’d be a good idea to have dinner so he had told Lily and they set it up like a casual dinner party. Harry didn’t know how to respond because her knowing that he was in on the plan might just make matters worse. He really didn’t think things could get much worse, but it seemed that they always managed to make it happen so in the end he decided to keep his mouth shut.

“I don’t know if we’d ever be able to work out differences out for that,” she decides to continue, when Harry stays quiet. She scans the interior of the car and watches Harry for the briefest moment before going back to looking out the window. “Nick said that we challenge each other to grow, but all I see us do is hurt each other.”

Her voice is just above the rain pattering outside the car and Harry thinks it sounds almost melodic if it weren’t for the sadness laced in every word.

“I disagree,” he states before wetting his lips.

“Of course you do,” she laughs in spite of herself.

“Even after all these months together and you still don’t get it. I like you.”

“You don’t like me, I don’t know how you could ever like me,” she shakes her head. “We just...we get under each other’s skin. You can make me so angry sometimes and I know I make you angry too. And when we’re not angry, we’re focussed on something that doesn’t have to do with ourselves.”

“I don’t think what you feel for me is anger,” Harry insists, “Just because something feels burning and fiery, frustrating even, doesn’t mean it’s anger.”

His body shifts closer to the center divide and she turns to face him finally. His eyes are extra dark in this lighting, which is barely there from a streetlamp a ways off. She longs for the comfort of his light green eyes, the soft pale glow of the moss that seems to have been trapped within his iris. Maybe for that reason she unknowingly leans closer to him.

“Then what is it?” She whispers, eyes blinking slowly as her breathing grows strained.

“Passion.”

Immediately, her head is tilting to meet his lips. Her mind knows one thing, she needs to be kissing Harry right now. And then she is. His left hand goes to cup her cheek as his lips attach themselves to hers. His soft lips press to hers in a long searing kiss. They stay there for a moment, pressing all of that passion and frustration into the kiss.

She presses impatiently forward, her lips starting to move more, wanting to kiss him deeper. Harry obliges, parting his lips and kissing her more vigorously. He licks into her open mouth and smiles at the sound she makes in appreciation for his actions.

She’s shifted to have herself kneeling on the leather seat and she’s leaning over the console. One of her hands finds purchase on Harry’s thigh and grasps tightly, her other at the back of his neck, pressing him closer if it were possible.

His chest is pressing against hers as he pulls her closer. He kisses her and his fingertips rub softly at the apple of her cheek. Eventually they run behind the shell of her ear and trail down her neck.

Eventually, she pulls away and stares at Harry. She watches as his eyes flutter open gently. His soft eyelashes dust his cheeks before moving away, allowing his eyes to peer at her in the dark.

Her breathing feels a little irregular after the kissing and she’s sure she is heaving her chest slightly, likely mirroring Harry’s chest as well.

“So, where to now?” She inquires, lips quirked up at her suggestion.

Harry giggles and scratches his nose against his index finger.

Harry doesn’t stay the night, he walks her up to her apartment door though. He kisses her chastley in front of her door and wraps an arm around her waist as he does so. He bids her a goodnight and a promise of seeing her soon.

They don’t see each other for a month. Both of them had been so blissful after the endorphins of kissing their person that they had forgotten that filming had wrapped. They weren’t set to work for a month. Harry texted her the next morning informing her that he’d be in England until filming resumed. She was still going to be in California, filming was moving back to Los Angeles, so she’d be back in her place there. Her family knew she was working, so they had sent her presents ahead to her place instead. Angie, her only true friend in the area, was spending her time with her actual family and Y/N didn’t want to intrude.

So the holidays were going to be spent alone. Those four weeks alone passed surprisingly quickly. She practiced techniques on herself, bought a tiny Christmas tree like the one in A Charlie Brown Christmas, watched A Charlie Brown Christmas and just about every other holiday movie possible. She fell in love with young Hugh Grant and Colin Firth for the thousandth time. She sang carols to herself and decorated her place with decorations from Target. She jammed out to the new Miley Cyrus album and held dance parties for herself in the house. She baked cookies and even attempted a trifle after watching a Great British Bake Off episode. She did and she did all in hopes that her mind wouldn’t wander to the guy who hadn’t called.

Harry texted occasionally, but it was infrequent at best. He was a busy person, she knew that. She knew who he was. And she didn’t want her mind to have enough time to feel sorry for herself. For her to think that she was just somebody to pass the time with while at work, because if she stopped doing things that’s where her mind would wander. Why did her mind spiral like it did? She had no idea, she’d always been like that.

His absence, their separation, made her question if her own feelings were even true. She wondered if when she saw him he would act as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t said their relationship was passionate and she had kissed him until she couldn’t breath.

Too much time alone, she needed some fresh air. On January 2nd, after an uneventful night at home and a lackluster countdown washed down with cheap champagne, she decided to go and walk around near her place. There was a coffee shop that wasn’t extremely expensive that she also liked that she figured she would get coffee from. After a brisk walk, she walked through the store's doors and ordered an iced green tea. As she waited, she watched the other customers around her, wishing to see a friendly face, someone she knew. And seconds later, she was met with half of that wish. Someone she knew, not necessarily a friendly face.

“Autumn.” She states with a grimace when someone taps her on the shoulder and she spins around.

“Y/N? It is you!” Autumn, one of the PA’s from Don’t Worry Darling who was especially in Harry’s business, exclaims overly happy as per usual.

Y/N bites the inside of her cheek and gives a tight lipped smile, trying her best to be cordial.

“How’s your holiday been!” Autumn asks.

“Great. You?”

“So great!” She’s quick to lean closer and say in a hushed tone, “But I miss working on set, especially getting to see that Harry everyday. He’s just so gorgeous.”

A breath gets stuck in Y/N’s chest at the mention of Harry’s name. Her brows can’t help but raise a bit at Autumn’s comment. Even lowering her voice didn’t make it feel alright to talk about Harry like this. He was her friend after all.

“Sure.” Y/N nods abruptly, realizing Autumn wants some recognition of what she’s just said. Y/N’s eyes glance around the room, hoping for an out like her drink is ready or something - no such luck.

“I mean,” Autumn keeps talking, of course, “You’re so lucky. You get to see him shirtless, like what? Everyday practically? Don’t tell me you don’t miss that just a little bit!”

“I miss working,” Y/N says, avoiding what Autumn is trying to get her to say. “And Harry’s my friend, could you maybe not talk about him like that with me?”

Autumn’s eyes widened in shock, her lips parted dumbfounded by her co-worker's response. Y/N’s name is called for her drink and she’s thankful for the serendipitous nature of that sound getting her out of the awkward situation she had just been in.

When she gets back to her apartment, she surprisingly has a text from Harry himself. She’s always telling everyone; speak of the devil and he will appear, in one way or another. It’s a Happy New Year well wish followed by a separate text asking how she was.

It was sent a minute ago so she decides to try and give him a call. She preferred talking on the phone over texting.

It rings a few times and then, again surprisingly, he picks up.

“‘Lo?” His voice is nice and deep and sounding extra British after his weeks surrounded by family and such.

“Harry,” she sighs contentedly.

“Happy to hear your voice,” he says her name and she can tell he’s smiling just like she is, from ear to ear.

She bites at her lip, hearing him say her name.

“I’m well, thanks,” she says after a moment of happy silence.

“What?” Harry laughs, confused.

“You texted asking me how I was and I called to respond.”

“Got it,” Harry chuckles, and she hears him shuffling around, likely sitting down on something.

“How are you?” She continues.

“Good, starting to wind down for the day,” he lists off the things he’s been doing over the past few days. Some of it work related, some of it family activities. All of it fun, he insists. “What did you do today?” He finishes, knowing she was an avid activity doer based off of the snaps she had sent him over the past few weeks.

“Tidied my place, went to the coffee shop and got iced tea…” she tries to think and then she gasps, “Oh! And I saw Autumn, one of the Don’t Worry Darling PA’s -”

“The one who’s obsessed with me?”

“Exactly!” She laughs, “And I may have kind of told her off… accidentally.”

“Accidentally told her off?” Harry repeats, incredulous. “How’d you do that?”

“Well,” she doesn’t want to tell him the rest, but there’s also a tiny part of her that really does, “She was gushing about you, which, ew. And then she asked if I missed seeing you shirtless everyday.”

“Well do you miss seeing me shirtless?” Harry smirks.

“Oh shut up!” She’s quick to reply.

“So you do?”

“If I really wanted to see you shirtless, all I’d have to do is type in “Harry Styles sh” and it would come up,” she rolls her eyes even though she knows he can’t see them. “Wouldn’t even need the whole word. Guaranteed.”

“Uh-huh?” Harry questions still, “If you want me to send you shirtless pictures that the rest of the world hasn’t seen, Y/N, all you have to do is ask.”

“I do not want you to send me shirtless pictures of yourself!” She exclaims. She feels like jumping out of a window right now. This conversation had escalated so quickly and she felt herself flushing, maybe even perspiring a little bit. And she also knew that she also would probably like it if he sent her shirtless pictures, which made this whole thing worse.

“Offer stands,” he says, smug as he normally was, happy he got to banter with her again. It had been dull without her, if he was honest with himself. “If you ever find yourself in need, just send a cheeky text and I’ll whip one out for you, no matter where I am or what I’m doing.”

“See this sounds like you’re saying something sincere, but really you’re just telling me you’ll send me nudes at any time.”

“No one said anything about nudes!”

“Shirtless, nude, sounds like you’re getting too caught up in the details, hon.”

“No!” He protests, “You’re the one who’s supposed to be flustered right now, not me!”

“Aww, you’re flustered,” She coos.

Harry groans. “Whatever. I’ll be back on the 8th, be ready to go out on the 9th. I’m taking you on a proper date.”

“How do you know I’m going to say yes?” She bite her lip again, she’s really sweating now. She couldn’t believe he had just asked her out on a date out of nowhere. Out of them just joking about nudes. Maybe she didn’t know Harry as well as she thought.

“Because you called me,” he says confidently.

“I call everyone.”

“But I don’t offer shirtless pictures to everyone.”

“That has nothing to do with me saying yes to this date.”

“Or does it?”

She laughs at his words, at how his voice still manages to convey every facial expression and quirk of his lips. She knows there’s a smile on his lips as he stares in the distance, imagining her face just as she is his.

“Yes.” She smiles.

“Yes!” He repeats happily.

She hears him stand up and spin around possibly and she chuckles slightly, amused at the silly man across the world who had seemed to have stolen her heart.

“See you soon, Harry.”

“Not soon enough.”

On the Saturday of their date, Harry insists on picking her up. He meets her at her door and winks at her after pulling away from their short hug. He laces his hand in hers and she follows behind him as he all but drags her to his car that is downstairs. He seems giddy. His hair has grown out in the month he’s been gone and she knows they’ll cut it when filming resumes. He’s wearing Gucci flared blue jeans - she knows from the big logo on the bottom left pant leg - a ‘Waiting for Sunset’ graphic tee beneath a black cardigan with little animals and items knitted in it. And of course, his dirty ass vans. She had hoped that maybe Christmas would bring him a fresh pair from someone, but it seemed there was no such luck.

Either way, he looked good and upon scanning his outfit, she was pleased that she had dressed correctly for the occasion, knowing one of the sins of Los Angeles was being improperly dressed wherever you might go. Harry had said casual, but casual can always mean so many different things. She got it right with light wash high-waisted levi’s, a brown cream rib-knit long sleeve that buttoned like it could be a cardigan, and some fun chunky boots that added some height to her normal stature. She had contemplated between this and possibly twenty other tops and a few other bottoms. Landing on this felt right, plus it didn’t clash with Harry, the color of her shoes actually matched the color of the snake on the cardigan.

They both compliment each other on the way out to his car and she giggles when he stops and twirls her around. He says he didn’t get a “proper look” before for him to compliment her adequately. After the twirl, he nods and starts them off again, complimenting the specific pieces of her clothes and says she looks beautiful again. His giddiness was contagious.

“No Range tonight,” she muses when Harry stops them in front of a Mercedes-Benz cream convertible, top up.

“Not working,” he replies, unlocking the car with the key into the passenger’s side door handle.

She smiles and slides into the car and watches him jog around to his side and unlock it as well.

“Tonight is going to be fantastic,” he says, leaning over the console and kissing her cheek, just beside her lips.

And when he pulls away with that smug smile of his, she knows he kissed her there on purpose. But the little tease only makes her smile more. He was good at this. And he was right.

The night was fantastic. As was every night after. And she learned that Harry was so much more than anything she ever thought. She counted herself lucky to be loved by a man like him.

#harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #enemies to lovers #dwd!harry #idk I always feel like theres more I need to put in here but idk #pls leave feedback and reblog

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okaywa · 4 years

Note

I love your works omg! 🥺 could I request hcs for oikawa , Kuroo and bokuto where their s/o just finished a bunch of school work and they “reward” them 😳 if you get what i’m saying 😂 (smut is all I ask for basically 😳) thank you! ❤️❤️

ddHahah my classes just started so here we gooo

... wish I had a haikyuu man to reward me lmao

NSFW BENEATH THE CUT

Oikawa

is first of all one of the neediest boys even though he acts indifferent sometimes (mainly when he’s stressed about volleyball)

but even though everyone says he only cares about volleyball he is actually so attentive and in tune with you

he’s an amazing boyfriend and you can pry that out of my cold dead fingers

so of course he sees how hard you've been working and is so proud of you for powering through your massive workload

bc sometimes its easier to get overwhelmed and lost in it

(this is unnecessary to the request but y’all met in Argentina while you’re studying abroad and he’s playing in the San Juan club)

But he’s barely seen you all week :(( stupid exams so he let himself into your apartment after practice to find you passed out in your bed, backpack tossed against the wall

He smiles softly at the sight, he can't help it, you're just so cute. You're hugging one of your pillows while wearing a sweatshirt of his that he’d left here (on purpose but you didn't have to know that.) He crawls up the bed, careful not to bounce the mattress and leans over you, pressing featherlight kisses against your cheeks and lips. He can tell you're starting to wake up by your little twitches and the scrunch of your eyebrows.

“Mm, Tooru, when did you get here,” you slur sleepily, shoving aside the pillow to wrap your arms around him instead.

“Just now, sweetheart,” he murmurs, not letting up on his kisses until you purse your lips for him.

He kisses you languidly, like the slow build up of the morning tide just a few miles away, until he’s got you pinned to the mattress. His hips grind down on yours, soft gasps shared between the two of you when his tip hits your clit just right. You're still sleepy, despite the sudden arousal that sends sparks through your tummy, so he keeps it relaxed. He captures your lips again, the rutting of his cock against your damp panties steady as to cause a quick buildup of heat in your core.

“So proud of you, sweet thing,” he sighs into your ear. “Hnn- ah.. you work so hard..”

“Tooru,” you whine, now moving in time with his slow thrusts.

“Shh-shh, let me take care of you,” he smiles down at you gently, rolling his hips at a new angle so his tip nudges your clit each time.

You nod weakly, lips parting for his tongue as he guides you to completion. His hips lose their rhythm once you stiffen beneath him, whining as your orgasm finally crests and spreads through your core. Oikawa grunts above you, dropping his forehead against your clavicle while his cock throbs against your ruined panties and he spills into his pants.

“Love you,” you pant against his hairline.

“Love you too,” his lips press warmly against your throat.

Kuroo

probably has just as much work as you but hes clingy so he insists that y'all study together even though your majors are totally different and you're not much help to each other

He’s the type to shove your papers out of your lap so he can lay his head there, or he just puts his head right on top of them

just constantly in the way but you love him so its kinda cute

also I think Kuroo is one of those ppl who barely takes notes, is on his phone the entire lecture, and only studies the night before and somehow still has a 4.0, I hate him (sike)

that or he’s so studious he keeps track of your due dates as well

Yall come back to your shared apartment exhausted but pleased exams are over

“Mm, just one more semester and we graduate,” Kuroo sighs, wrapping you in a tight hug so he can rest his chin on the top of your head. “How do you think you did?”

You laugh into his chest, squeezing your arms around his waist. “I feel good about them, actually.”

Kuroo smiles proudly, ruffling your hair before grabbing your chin to pull you into a kiss. You smile against his lips, humming when his fingers start to play with the hem of your shirt mischievously.

“Tetsuuu,” you whine when he tugs insistently. “We just got home...”

“I knowww,” he mimics, slowly walking you backwards until your knees hit the back of the couch. “But I want to show my pretty girl how proud I am of her for getting through these exams.”

Your stomach flutters at the low, sultry drop of his voice. He nips at your ear teasingly before pushing you to sit.

“As soon as I saw you put this little skirt on this morning,” Kuroo grins, dropping to his knees in front of you. “I’ve been thinking about how much I’d like I hide my head under here and...”

His fingers tease the damp cloth of your panties lightly. “Devour you.”

You whimper as he looks up at you through his lashes, fingers stroking your covered folds more firmly. He cocks his head curiously until you nod desperately, parting your thighs eagerly for him. His smirk widens once he lays his eyes on your ruined panties and he wastes no time pulling them down your legs and shoving them in his pocket.

Grabbing your thighs, he pulls your butt to the edge of the cushion and drops your calves over his shoulders. He immediately draws his tongue through your soaked folds to tickle at your clit. He moans throatily, murmuring about how delicious you taste before burying his face between your thighs.

“Haaah- ah! Testu!”

Kuroo’s tongue immediately licks inside of you, his nose pressed firmly to your clit. Gasping at his fervor, you grasp at his hair, knowing how much he enjoyed having you pull it. His eyes immediately fluttered open, heavily lidded and foggy with lust. Winking up at you, he curls his tongue just right and groans when your thighs lock around his neck. He shakes his head slightly to give your clit just enough stimulation to have you hurdling to a quick orgasm.

He licks up your slick eagerly, determined to catch every drop but is cut short when you writhe away from the intense overstimulation. He laughs softly, climbing up the couch to smash his lips to yours, shoving his tongue into your mouth so you could taste yourself.

“Mm, let’s go to the bedroom,” he rumbles, nibbling at your bottom lip.

Bokuto

He is so damn proud of you it’s adorable

He’s been gushing for the past week and a half to his teammates about how smart his girlfriend is

He’s a little bummed you haven't been able to pay attention to him but he understands and is happy to just watch you study

So when you finally get home from your last exam he pounces on you

Scoops you up and brings you to the bedroom immediately

“Kou!” You laugh into the crook of his neck, squeaking when he suddenly drops you on the bed.

“I've missed you so much,” Bokuto clambers on top of you. “Been driving me crazy with how busy you’ve been.”

“I know, handsome,” you frown sympathetically, bushing your fingers through his wild hair.

“I’m so proud of you though,” he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. “Fuck, you're so smart. Pretty sure Atsumu was ready to throw a ball at my head because I wouldn’t shut up about you.”

He settles on top of you, kissing a wet trail up to your jaw. Your hands are gliding up his back muscles and grabbing at his broad shoulders.

“Kou... I need you to-” you're cut off by his lips on yours.

“I know, baby, I got you,” his rough hands shove your pants down so you can kick them off. “How about I make you cum for each of your exams, hm? I think that’s a good reward for all your hard work.”

“Please,” you whimper, needing him to release all of the stress that had built up.

“How many was it, baby?” He asks while pulling his shirt over his head.

“Six,” you take in his toned chest and defined abs hungrily.

“Six orgasms it is,” he grins, pulling your own shirt off.

Within seconds he’s knuckles deep inside you, groaning about how ready you always are for him. He pumps and curls his fingers perfectly, thumbing at your clit until you’re cumming all over his hand.

His cock is always a delicious mix of a burning stretch and a sensation of fullness. Bokuto’s cock was thick and long, his head dragging along your g-spot with each of his rolling thrusts. Your walls suck him in greedily, clenching so tightly that he’s whining against your lips.

“So wound up, aren't you?” He pants. “Need me to take the edge off, huh?”

You already have tears in your eyes as you nod, crying out when his fingers find your clit. He ruts his cock into you roughly, gritting out praises until you arch underneath him and cum for a second time. He stops completely, kissing your cheeks gently while you recover.

“Kou...” your eyebrows draw together. “You didn't...?” “Four more times,” he grins, and slowly starts thrusting again.

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bakugotsundere · 3 years

Text

Hating Him - Bakugou Katsuki (1)

bakugo x (black) fem reader

( still can read if you’re not)

sorry if it bothers you, i just felt that my black readers weren’t feeling black as they were reading y/n stories cause i for sure wasn’t.

Warning: none

Summary: Bakugo and you have hated each other ever since you met, being on the same track team and having the same friend group didn’t make things any better. you 2 have to act like you like each other for the benefit of the friend group until one day you and him are forced to have movie night with the others and you both have had enough of each other’s shit.

in this chapter: you get invited to the movie night and bump into bakugo

The morning smell of outside filled your lungs as you stepped out your house. It was exactly 5:30 in the morning. The streets were not busy and there was barely any noise, just faint sounds of dogs barking and truck drivers in a distance. It was the perfect time to go for your daily run. The chilly air made you happy, it gave you more of a challenge. you zipped your nike training jacket up. It fit you tight, tugging at every curve of yours. The sky was a foggy blue, a few clouds started coming in, along with the sum.

You walked down the steps of your house, stretching your legs when you got to the sidewalk. You looked ahead and yawned as you walked onto the street. Your neighborhood was fairly nice to say the least. Everybody minded their business, especially since your house had been secluded. After your grandmother died, she left one of her houses she owned to you, making it easy for you since you dreaded the idea of having to share a dorm with someone, let alone having to get an apartment.

you placed your airpods in your ears and played Apparently by J.Cole. J.Cole had been your favorite rapper since you were 12 years old, you missed the days where your 12 year old self would dance around your room to his music, now you’re grown and responsibilities are becoming more than just making sure your chores were done. You stretched one last time before taking off.

...

Once you were done, sweat dripped from your face. your breathing was heavy and the cold water bottle in your hand had been long awaited. The sun was now out. The birds chirping got louder and the old lady from across the street was sitting in her chair with her small cat in her lap, you quenched your thirst, swallowing every last drop of water. “Good morning Y/n” She chirped. You wiped your mouth with your wrist smiling, turning towards her, “Goodmorning Ms. Rodriguez.” you reply as you waved.

You finally go back inside your house, feeling at ease. you take off your black vapor max at the door and go to your kitchen, grabbing a nutrigrain bar, you ate it before going upstairs to get ready for your classes. you took your curly hair out of its messy bun. the roots of your hair were finally breathing and it felt good. you scratched your scalp in satisfaction. you looked in the mirror, loving your features and your brown/caramel skin. you never felt the need to put yourself in the 3 categories because to you there was no need to, everybody in the community was black so why separate it into groups.

you placed the shea butter your mother made for you on your face. you took off your semi-sweaty clothes throwing them into your dirty clothes hamper and looked at yourself in the mirror. your body was perfect to most but you didn’t see what everyone saw. your thighs were too thick for your liking, especially since you did track. your breast were too big to you, they sometimes got in the way while working out. you had a 4 pack from the working out, everybody told you that you had an hour glass body but you hated it. if this what a hour glass body was, you hated it.

you took off your panties, replacing your old ones with Tommy Hilfiger ones. You grabbed a pair of black nike sweatpants that fit your thighs perfectly. You took off your bra, letting your breast breath and put on another sports bra, putting on a white t-shirt fresh out the pack. you ran chap stuck along your plump lips, they were more than plump actually if you like them so it didn’t matter. you picked out the roots of your hair leaving it’s on it’s curly state. you had dyed your hair a ginger color, which made you look like sza a little. your fro was like hers too, very big and curly.

You wrapped your apple watch around your wrist and put on some whit nike socks, along with your white air force ones. Your phone started dinging and it was the gc, you had been in with your friend group.

Mina :) > goodmorning whores. Time for class before you become drop outs.

Denki ⚡️> good morning Mina ;)

Midoriya🥬> Goodmorning everybody, i have a big test in Mr. Aizawa’s today so i have to get to studying, talk to you guys later.

Kirishima> Mornin. It’s beautiful out today, isn’t it and i’m not a whore mina.

You> yea, kirishima i’m pretty sure you got caught with cami in the janitors closet.

Iida> Mine was too, you guys need to stop texting and get to class.

You> sure, see you on the track field lida. this gc is getting deader by the day and it’s embarrassing to watch.

(seen by kirishima, Mina, and Bakugou)

lida> typing...

You shut off your phone with a smile, knowing that got him heated. You didn’t even care for his response. you loved messing with lida, it was funny, you sprayed a little vanilla perfume on your body and you were off to a place you dreaded.

...

You were now in the library studying with Mina. Mina was like your best friend, you told her everything and she told you everything. “Have you seen that picture of trey songz you know what?” she asked and your eyes went wide, in shock that she was talking about this in the library. “yes, but i can’t go crazy over it, he made the shit so corny. the whole post he made afterwards had me cringing at my phone so hard. i was like “boy what the fuck” he too old for that shit.” you told her and she giggled.

“I’m having a movie night with the rest of the group this saturday, you have to come. you never come to things with us anymore. Ever since bakugou started hanging out with us, you’ve been avoiding us. i’ve noticed some type of tension between you 2, i hope it isn’t sexual?” she stated and your stomach churned at the thought of that stuck up dummy.

“No, i just like staying to myself, that’s all. i think i’ll come Saturday as long as it’s not going to be a lot of people you know how busy i am with track and stuff.” you stated in reality you hated being around bakugo. especially since he always felt to make rude remarks towards you when everyone wasn’t around. He was normally mean to everyone, but you got it the worse since you had the shortest running time on the team. When track practice would come around you and him would argue with each other every second. you hated being yelled at or talked to badly and your mother sure didn’t raise a bitch so you talked to him just as reckless as he did to you and he hated every second of it since you were the first to ever test him. your personalities didn’t mix well at all.

“it’s only gonna be, denki, bakugo, kirishima, todoroki, asui, uruaka and deku but that’s if bakugo doesn’t mind.”

“yea, i’ll think about it.” you said softly.

...

you were now at practice and the death stares you received from bakugo made you just wanna slap the fuck out of him. His eyes followed you as you warmed up. You could see him start to come towards you and you sighed. His tall figure stood in front of you, blocking the sun, his body shaded you. “You draw too much attention.” He stated as the boys that were on the team stared at you. You were the only girl on the track team so you learned to get used to it. “I know, why are you telling me this?” you asked and he gritted his teeth, “All of those boys are practically eye raping you.” he states, taking in your appearance and you sighed, “I don’t know what to fucking say. these are the only sizes in shirts they have and if my curves happen to show then so be it. it’s not like the whole thing is out.”

Sweat dripped from the side of his head, he had on a white tank top and some nike shorts with some white vapor max. a towel hung over his broad shoulders. your eyes scanned his body, you never thought bakugo was ugly, he was perfect when it came to looks. He was very tall with a slim, muscular build, and a fair skin tone. He had short, spiky, ash-blond hair that looked soft. His eyes were a sharp and bright red in color that showed his hostility. his looks fit his personality though, very cocky.

“Why do you care?” You asked and his cheeks turned a bright pink and anger came upon him, this line made him mad, “I don’t.” he replied angrily. “Well then stop telling me things i already know. All you do is bother me.” you told and his lips curved into a smirk, “Your existence bothers me, imagine how I feel.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing past him aggressively. He can be so fucking annoying. Imaging having to be on the same team as someone you hate. It’s really irritating, especially when the person is somebody as arrogant as he is. He needs to be humbled.

...

You and Bakugou were the only 2 left after practice, your coach was mad at the both of you because of what happened last week with the sub coach. Bakugou had been bothering you that day and you snapped and then you two decided to have a race on your own which didn’t turn out so well since bakugou got mad that you won in the end.

So now you and him were being forced to do “after practice workouts” with each other. You were now lying on the ground of the track floor, exhausted. Bakugou was right next to you, your chest rose up and down, your breathing heavy and your legs worn out. You looked over at him, and he looked over at you. “This wouldn’t have happened if you just wouldn’t hate me so much and accept that i’m faster than you.” you stated and his red eyes stared at your light brown ones. “Can’t blame this all on me. You hate me as well and you don’t know when to shut up. You don’t have to respond to everything i say but you do.” He said and you placed your hands at your stomach, “I’m not about to let you walk all over me like you do everyone else. Your ego is too big and i’m doing nothing but lowering it.”

“Is that what you think?” he asked and you sighed softly looking him in his eyes trying to search for anything but anger but there was no other emotion but that, his pupils did dilate once he noticed how hard you were staring into his eyes though, “It’s not what i think, it’s what i know.” you said. “i don’t understand why you are always so angry all the time. I don’t even know how you have the friends that you have. obviously that means they see past it but i refuse to. i can’t. sorry but that’s just how i am.” you stated sitting up, he sat up with you staring at you, “i don’t understand how you have friends, you are very competitive and just avoid me then. We can always hate each other from a distance.” he stated and you smiled shaking your head as you stood up.

“Can’t do that when we have the same friends and are on the same team and i’m only competitive when it comes to track. So i’ll just hate you regardless and plus you always keep your enemies close. It doesn’t matter though, i’m still faster.” you added on that last part trying to make him mad and you could hear him start to yell as you walked off and a smile came upon your lips.

There’s no way you could ever be friends with him so why even bother trying. Something about him makes your blood boil.

#bakugou smut #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x y/n #bakugo x black reader

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justasillybear · 3 years

Text

Is that a Dog?

It all started, as did many of the things that went wrong in Percy’s life, by not asking the right questions.

In his defence, it hadn’t seemed necessary to ask Grover anything other than “Can I have one” when his best friend and roommate had pulled out some freshly baked brownies from the oven.

First mistake.

The second mistake was sneaking two more brownies while Grover hadn’t been looking.

It could be said, as Percy would later point out, that Grover was the one responsible for everything that happened after that. Months later Percy would look back on that moment and realise Grover hadn’t even attempted to warn him that there was weed in the brownies. Then he’d shake his head and think wow Grover really screwed me over. But that was months away.

In the present, Percy felt like he was floating, everything felt bright and new, and Grover was driving him to go get a milkshake. How could he be mad at Grover when he was the reason Percy felt so at peace? He could hear Grover’s Michael Franti CD playing, and his soft voice singing along, not quite drowned out by the loud honks of irate drivers stuck like them in New York traffic. If he were in a clearer state of mind, Percy would likely have realised that Grover had also eaten one of the brownies and shouldn’t have really been driving. But he wasn’t, instead he let his eyes drift out the window up towards the perfectly blue sky. So blue it almost looked like the ocean and Percy wondered if he just reached up would he fall in and-

What?

Holy. Shit.

“A puppy!” Percy screeched, starting out of the window and at the car a few places ahead of them to the left. He turned to Grover and pointed to the little golden retriever that was poking its head out of a car window. It’s tongue was hanging out of its mouth and Percy felt his heart clench at the sight. He hadn’t known it before, but now he realised that was what he’d been missing in his life.

“Nice spot, what a cute dog.” Grover approved, peering over, his eyes looking slightly red and heavy-lidded.

“He looks... Like he gives good hugs”. Percy mused. He desperately wanted to test out his theory. Percy sent up a quick prayer asking for help, and was elated to find the traffic moving. He waited with bated breath while their lane moved forward until they were parked next to the dog. “Fuck yes!” he virtually screamed. Today was the best day!

“He's so tiny?” Percy mused, eyes continuing to stare dreamily over and then… the puppy looked at him and BARKED. And Percy just knew he was calling out to him. Asking to be petted.

Percy unbuckled his seat belt and rolled down the window, decidedly ignoring Grover’s confused exclamations. “He wants to be petted!” Percy offered as he reached out to touch soft golden fur. The dog yipped happily in response, pushing his small wet nose into the offered hand. Percy could feel his eyes growing misty again. He loved dogs so much. He’d always wanted one growing up, but Gabe had never allowed it. His mum had felt bad about it, getting him a fish instead which he’d loved - but it wasn’t the same. Don’t get him wrong, fish were awesome and that gift had been one of the reasons he was now studying marine biology. But… no fish had ever given him this moment. The moment where they look at you with adoration in their eyes and promise to love you forever. Percy hoped the puppy knew that Percy felt the same way.

“Um, Luke. A stranger is petting your dog.”

Percy looked up from the deep blue eyes of his new ride-or-die bestie and saw a blond girl who looked to be around his age staring at him like he was crazy (which Percy thought was a little rude.)

“Is he your dog?” Percy questioned, reluctantly removing his hand away realising that he should probably have asked the owner’s permission before sticking the upper half of his body out of the car to pet their dog. Even a dog as friendly as this, with beautiful and kind blue eyes.

“No. He’s-“

“Mine.” A deep voice cut in, pulling Percy’s attention to the driver seat of the car, where a young man with bright blue eyes, soft golden hair, and a truly wicked smirk was staring at him. The guy looked around 19 with a gnarly looking scar trailing down from his eye to his chin. Which … Damn! The scar should have detracted from how unfairly attractive he was, but instead, it made Percy want to lean over and touch it. He wondered how it would feel. If it would be rough?

Focus Percy!

“Wow, Annabeth, you didn’t say he was cute”. Percy felt his cheeks flush, and he could hear himself spluttering out nonsense for a good few moments, searching for an appropriate response.

The guy kind of looked like his dog, which was weird. What was even weirder was that the realisation made Percy want to reach out and pet his hair too, to see if it was just as soft as his dogs.

“Uuuh, noo..what, not? I’m not… you’re the one that’s. I don’t – cute! Grover. This guy thinks I’m cute?” Percy managed eventually, much to the growing amusement of the man in question. He quickly averted his eyes, turning to Grover who stared back giggling softly. Traitor.

“Percy, you’re very cute. Now you need to sit back down. We could move at any moment.” Grover managed between breathy giggles. He didn’t sound very concerned, so Percy decided it was safe to ignore his warning for now. If Percy had to choose between personal safety and the opportunity to spend time with a cute dog and an equally cute owner, well, safety didn’t stand a chance.

“Okay, Grover,” Percy said in a peaceful tone, turning back around to once again pet the head of the puppy, “but I’m in the middle of something very important right now.” At this Grover’s laughter got louder.

“You!” Percy pointed at the driver, “Have a nice face. And smile. And eyes. Grover and I are going to get milkshakes, would you and your puppy like to join us? We could hold hands and talk about your dog and how all three of you are rocking the blond blue eyes thing-”

“Percy the traffic is moving…” Grover butted in.

“Grover, a moment!” Percy begged, yelping when Grover started to inch the car forwards with the traffic, Percy’s torso still half out of the car. Luck seemed to be on his side today however as the other lane was also moving slowly alongside them, so Percy decided to just continue to pet the dog's head. He shot a quick glare at Grover for good measure though.

“Hey idiot, you need to listen to him and get in the car. What if traffic picks up?” the girl warned, mumbling to herself about high idiots.

“Percy is it?” the driver asked, drawing Percy’s attention away from Grover and back to his unfairly handsome face. Percy could feel a grin stretching across his lips.

“How’d you know my name?” he wonders, feeling pleased. He liked the way his name sounded coming from the older guy, all deep and slow like he was savouring each syllable. The guy laughed at the question.

“Your boyfriend there’s said it a few times.” He explained, and Percy nodded vigorously in understanding, and then begun to shake his head equally as energetically. “Grover? No! He’s like… a brother. Definitely not my boyfriend.” Percy explained forcefully, He really didn’t want the hot guy to get the wrong idea. Grover was his best friend, but he’d rather jump into the harbour than date him.

“Why the harbour?” the guy asked through chuckles. Percy hoped he’d keep laughing, the sound was making his head feel as light as the brownies had.

“Did I say that out loud?”

“Yup, green eyes, you did. And I’m sorry, I’d love to hang out more, but I need to drop my sister off at her girlfriends.” He said, pointing a finger at the girl in the backseat. Percy turned to look at her with sad eyes. The girl with golden curls looked like she couldn’t decide if she should smile or scowl. He was disappointed to note her eyes were more grey than blue.

“Oh, that’s sad.” Percy pouted, retreating back slightly into Grover’s car. Before he was fully in, the guy reached out a hand to stop him. He had nice hands, they were large and calloused, and Percy wanted to hold one.

“Wait. Um, maybe I could give you my number, so I know you got home alright? My name's Luke Castellan. C-A-S-T-E-L-L-A-N. We could get that milkshake another… less traffic-bound time?” Luke asked, looking nervous for the first time, making Percy grin. He quickly whipped out his phone and typed in Luke’s details.

“yes! .” He cheered, once to Luke, and then once again to the dog who was still nuzzling his hand. “So, I’ll see you both soon?”

“I’ll hold you to that, Percy.” Luke teased and Percy felt himself nodding.

“Promise,” Percy said firmly, sliding back into the car to Grover's relief. He waved at Luke once the window was rolled up, pleased to see the guy was still staring over at him. He looked like he was saying sometimes but Percy couldn’t tell what. Whatever it was, it made the girl in the backseat lean forward and smack his shoulder. Luke waved one final time before turning his eyes back to the road. His face looked bright and carefree, and Percy wanted to look at him forever. Then the traffic moved and Luke, and his puppy, were gone.

Percy tried not to feel too sad, but he wished he’d taken a picture.

“Only Percy-fucking-Jackson could get a guy’s number after molesting his dog while high in traffic.” Grover giggled, and Percy allowed himself to be dragged away from his thoughts.

“What can I say. I’m irresistible”. He stated, smirking over at his best friend. Grover just continued to giggle. Laying back in his seat he looked back up to the perfect blue sky and thought of Luke's eyes. Luke Castellan, Luke Castellan, Luke-

Maybe he wouldn’t blame Grover after all.

#Percy Jackson #fanfic prompt #Percy x Luke #Luke x Percy #Lukercy #grover underwood #Luke Castellan #annabeth chase #tw: drugs #[i don't agree with drug use]#[but the prompt was specific]#fanfiction #Percy Jackson au #[luke should have had a dog]#[no one goes evil if they have a dog]

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kirausamaria · 3 years

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A fun payback (Stolitz Fanfic)

Ok, I’m sorry, I had to wrote this! It was some innuendos and curses but it’s not really NSFW. It’s hard to write when you got the horny bird in a fanfic. Anyways, please let me know how did I do, because it’s my first fanfic ever. I plan to draw some stuff for the post too as soon as my studies finish.

This time Stolas had something different in mind for Blitzo.

He wasn’t the type of person to get easily flustered as anyone may expect, but after that “Stolas goes brrrr…” and “poor wardrobe choice” incidents on Instagram, he felt like getting some retaliation for that. Not that it was angry or anything like that, in fact, this was a good chance for him to try something new with his little imp.

“Sooo, you want to be on top this time I suppose”, Blitzo said while staring at Stolas finishing his job, that was tying him from his wrists and legs to the bed. He had done this several times before so Blitzo wasn’t alarmed or anything. The only thing that seemed unusual was the fact that he was tied down in bed still with his underwear on, normally Stolas would have him completely naked at the instant he got his hands on him.

“Well, we’ll see about that my dear. It’ll all depend on how you’ll end up feeling at the end”, Stolas replied with an eager smile.

“Ugh, whatever, let’s just get over with it and do it quickly”, Blitzo answered with an uninterested tone in his voice.

“I’m afraid to tell you, my dear Blitzy, I plan to take my time on this occasion”.

Blitzo just stared at him with a puzzled face. He would never admit it, but it was difficult to see Stolas directly on the face sometimes, his eyes weren’t just deeply red, but reflecting such a warm feeling... a charming feeling, maybe? Stolas's genuine smile when staring at him made him feel something inside, but he would never admit that those feelings were something similar to “love”.

Stolas started caressing Blitzo’s skin as softly as he could, starting from his tied wrists to slowly going down to his chest. Blitzo started to squirm and tried to hold back some moans, it was starting to feel good, but he was too stubborn to let Stolas know that too easily. Stolas then started to caress his torso up and down, focusing on his sides this time, and the pleasant feelings started to change a little. Blitzo squirmed more than at the beginning.

“Unhg, umph...mmm!”

“What’s wrong my Blitzy? Doesn’t this feel good?” Stolas asked while grinning a little.

“Could you just stop fu*king around and go to the next thing?”, Blitzo struggled to say.

“Why should we stop this? Does it feel weird? Am I possibly making you feel... ticklish?”

Then Blitzo suddenly realized what this mischievous bird planned to do to him. That a**hole! He planned to do that to me all along! He thought to himself. It’s now he wouldn’t enjoy being tickled as a show of affection with a partner, but with Stolas...we just didn’t like to show any kind of vulnerability in front of him. He wouldn’t admit he’s ticklish or that he likes to be tickled to Stolas, he would never let this go for sure if he did.

“Come on my little imp, don’t be shy, just show me your real feelings to me and enjoy this experience. It will make you feel so much better”.

“Ah, shut the f*ck up you freaking bird!” Blitzo yelled. He was trying so hard not to build a smile in his face, the tickling feelings were starting to build up.

Stolas chuckled. “You’re such a stubborn creature. I can’t deny it, that is one of the qualities that attracted me about you in the first place, but some honesty wouldn’t hurt, don’t you think?”.

Blitzo couldn’t run away from Stolas, he knew it, but at the same time he didn’t just lose against him, not giving him the satisfaction of doing what he wanted. But when Stolas started to use his claws against his skin, he just broke.

“Pfff! Hehehe! Nohohohoho!” Blitzo

“See? I know you’d go around!”, Stolas said when scratching Blitzo’s upper arms. “Doesn't it feel much better to just laugh and enjoy it?”

“F-f you Stolas!” Blitzo whined. He was unable to stop himself from laughing anymore, and Stolas had started to use rougher tickles against him.

He then felt Stolas’ claws skittering every area of his torso, and also his stomach. Blitzo became really jumpy in that place, and Stolas noticed.

“Oh, that’s why you squirm everytime I kiss you on your stomach”, Stolas said while holding his laugh. “So what about this?”

Blitzo almost squealed when Stolas started kissing and scratching his belly at the same time.

“Nohohohohoho, don’t do that!”

“Why not? It doesn’t feel good? But I’m having so much fun right now”, Stolas replied. Looking at him Blitzo could tell he was saying the truth, but it tickled so bad he didn’t know if he could keep going with this game, not that he hated seeing Stolas enjoying things, though. Also, the way Stolas kissed him wasn’t bad, he actually was a good kisser, but on his stomach his kisses were unbearable.

Stolas then started scratching Blitzo’s underarms and that was also a pretty bad spot. Blitzo couldn’t stop his cackling laugh to come out.

“Ahahahahaha! Don’t! Not there please!”

“Oh, starting begging so soon?”

“I’m not begging you pompous piece of sh*t!”

“Oh, alright, I understand, it was just a reflex, wasn’t it? You’re actually having fun, don’t you?” Stolas cooed.

“I’m nohohohohot!” He screamed, not admitting this was kind of fun.

“Blitzi, you are so cute, you know that?”, Stolas said with the most sincere voice he could make. He softly leaned down to Blitzo’s neck, which he knew was really sensitive, and started kissing and nibbling it while still tickling his underarms.

“No my neeehheehck! At least forgive my neeehehehck! I cahahahan’t….!”

“Blitzo actually loved to be softly kissed in his neck, his feathers also would tickle him and make him melt when Stolas did it, but he would always put a facade of seriousness so he wouldn’t realize that, but Stolas was very clever, he knew Blitzo’s true feelings when having intimacy every full moon with him.

Stolas stopped in order to let Blitzo breathe. Blitzo was still laughing a little while catching up some air. When he was able to talk again, he said:

“Why are you always like this Stolas, doing whatever you want…”

“Uhm? Aren’t our encounters also enjoyable to you?” Stolas asked tilting his head to one side in a question gesture. “Well, to be completely honest with you I’ve always wondered how do you look when you smile, not your everyday smug smile, just a pure, genuine smile...and also how does your laugh sound when you are amused. Every night we meet I have the hope you’ll show that cute smile to me, and when I think I finally got to make you smile, you just look away from me and hide your true feelings”.

Blitzo was looking at him while listening to all that. Stola’s face showed a little sad smile and he felt his heart shrinking a little. Was he feeling moved? That’s impossible, he said to myself, but he felt Stolas didn’t mean any harm when playing with him this way.

But Blitzo is still Blitzo, so…

“Well, it’s not like I can just laugh in front of you that easily, or look at you in the eyes all the time...just, I don’t hate you or anything, do you get it?”

Stolas noticed Blitzo was looking a little flustered.

“So can we keep having fun for a little more then?”, Stolas asked, with the purest smile he could make. Blitzo was hesitating but…

“Well, I, uhm…”. Blitzo was kind of trapped in this game already and he wasn’t against some more tickling for the sake of making Stolas happy and having some fun (this thought would never come out of his mouth though). He stared at him and said: “Well, maybe just this time is ok...I guess”.

There was a big smile on Stolas’ face, he jumped off from the bed and went to his vanity, quickly opened and closed a drawer and came back to where Blitzo was laying. Blitzo was getting both scared and excited at the same time, again trying not to show a nervous anticipating smile.

Stolas showed him a fancy crystal bottle. He slowly opened and started to pour what it was inside on Blitzo’s chest. It was some herb scented oil.

“Oh no, onohohohono!”, Blitzo said while nervously giggling at the thought of what it was about to happen. He felt Stolas’ hand sensually spreading the warm oil in all his upper body, making him squirm again. It already tickled so bad when doing this he couldn’t stop his voice from coming out.

“Please, don’t do it!” Blitzo yelled, but he was unconsciously smiling because of the excitement.

“I’ll just play for a while, I promise”, Stolas’ answered, while digging Blitzo’s ribs.

“NOHHOHOHOHOHOHO! STAHAHAHAHAHAP! Blitzo screamed, arching his back trying to get away from Stolas’ claws, but he was really good tied, so he couldn’t move that much.

“Why, my dear? Doesn’t it feel much better now, to laugh at your heart’s content? You’re getting so much attention tonight, you little greedy imp”.

“THIIIS NOHOHOT THE ATTENTION I NEHEHEED!, Blitzo replied, truly laughing this time, while his tail was wagging, a sign that an imp is relaxed or happy.

“Aww, don’t be shy Blitzi, just stop thinking that much and enjoy it! If you do I will let you do the same to me next time”. He took Blitzo’s tail and started to scratch its tip. Blitzo was going crazy, but he was still able to answer back.

“I PROHOMISE I WIIILL TICKLE YOU TO DEHEHEATH THAHAHAHT DAY FOR SUURE! AHAHAHAH!”

“Can’t wait”, Stolas answered with a singing voice.

“STOP WIHIHITH THE FU*KING SINGING VOICE ALREADY!” Blitzo practically shrieked, while Stolas was now squeezing his hips and sides.

“Why, does that make you more ticklish?”, Stolas crooned. “What if I keep doing it while tickling your weakest spot?”

Blitzo panicked, he knew what it was coming: Stolas grabbed some more oil for his hands and started to slowly run his claws from Blitzo’s hips to his underarms and neck.

“Nohohohohoho, I swear I’ll kill you if you…!”

Stolas started digging Blitzo’s underarms, making him shriek with laughter. His head started to get blank.

“STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!”

“I love your laugh so much, Blitzi”, Stolas now laughing at Blitzo’s strong reactions, “And your tail wiggling with such joy, it just melts my heart”.

Blitzo’s looking so vulnerable and helpless laughing like this while being tied up was actually really cute.

Stolas would alternate the tickling on his neck and underarms, then again nibbling and kissing his neck while scratching his whole body, now ten times more sensitive because of the oil.

“NOHOHHOH, NOHOHO MY NEEECK! I’M GONNA FUC*ING DIE!”

Blitzo started to shed tears from the laughing, his head completely in a daze.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAH! *hic* HAHAHAHAH! *hic*.

When he started whining and weezing instead of laughing Stolas knew it was enough for tonight, so he stopped.

Blitzo was coughing and giggling for a whole minute, completely exhausted.

“You did a good job Blitzi! I really had fun”, Stolas praised Blitzo for his endurance while kissing him on his cheek and forehead.

Blitzo wouldn’t admit it, but he also thought it had been a little fun, until the almost dying feeling part.

“I fuc*ing hate you Stolas”, Blitzo was barely able to say, still with some tears in his eyes.

Stolas was smiling a lot. At least he had his payback.

“You know? We should play like this more often”. Stolas said while untying Blitzo. “It would help you to relieve some stress from work and it’s a fun way of foreplay. Also laughing is good for your…”.

Stolas didn’t realize until looking at Blitzo that he was sound asleep. Blitzo was just exhausted in order to do anything, but peacefully snoring in bed.

Stolas just chuckled, staring at this cute picture for a while before covering him with his sheets and curling up at his side, hugging him.

“Well, I guess we’ll have our little fun until morning”, Stolas thought.

“Really, Blitzy, you have no idea how much I love you”.

Stolas then kissed Blitzo’s shoulder and back of his neck, making him smile a little while still sleeping.

#HelluvaBoss #Stolitz #Blitzo #Stolas #Helluvatickles #ticklingfanfic

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snelbz · 4 years

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What Happens In Vegas... {9}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Feyre x Rhysand, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Summary: For Feyre’s twenty-first birthday, her best friend took her to Las Vegas for a weekend of fun she could never forget. She’s going home with a lot more than memories.

@snelbz / @tacmc collab

What Happens In Vegas Masterlist

Fanfiction Masterlist

My Ask Box

We spent the afternoon back down in the recording studio with Drakon, Azriel and Cassian. When Rhys wasn’t playing, he’d pull me onto his lap. When he was busy on guitar, I listened in awe of his talent. He didn’t sing, so I remained in the dark about the lyrics. But the music was beautiful in a raw, rock ’n’ roll sort of way. Cass seemed pleased with the new material, bopping his head along in time. Even Azriel was more vocal in general, speaking up with ideas, criticisms, and praises.

Drakon beamed behind the splendid board of buttons and dials. “Play that lick again, Rhys.” My husband nodded and his fingers moved over the fretboard, making magic.

Miryam had been busy while we’d been upstairs, starting on unpacking the collection of boxes. When she made a move to return to the job in the early evening I went with her. Unasked or not, it wasn’t fair that she got lumped with the task on her own. Plus, it pleased my inner need to organize. I snuck back downstairs now and then as the hours passed, stealing kisses, before heading back up to help Miryam again. Rhysand and co remained immersed in the music. They’d come up seeking food or drink but returned immediately to the studio.

“This is what it’s like when they’re recording. They lose track of time, get caught up in the music. The number of dinners Drakon has missed because he simply didn’t realize what time it was;” said Miryam, hands busy unpacking the latest box.

“It’s their job, but it’s also their first love,” she continued, dusting off an Asian-style bowl. “You know that one old girlfriend that’s always hanging around the fringes, drunk dialing them at all hours and asking them to come over?”

I laughed. “How do you deal with never getting to come first?”

She smiled as she looked over at me. “You have to strike a balance. Music’s a part of them that you have to accept, hon. Fighting it won’t work. Have you ever been really passionate about something?”

“Yes,” I breathed, answering honestly, eyeing up another stringed instrument I’d never seen the likes of. It had intricate carving encircling the sound hole. “I love to paint. Life is easier to understand when I have a paintbrush in my hand. But responsible adults don’t paint for a living. There’s no way I can guarantee that I’ll pay the bills selling my art.” I stopped, grimaced. “God, I sound like my father.”

“You can totally, absolutely paint for a living, if you so choose,” she said, like it was the absurd thing to say I couldn’t. “If it’s your passion, then you owe it to yourself to give it a shot. But sometimes, it takes time to build it up for a living. Honing your craft and keeping the dedication, until that’s a possibility, that’s being a responsible adult.”

I smiled, understanding what she meant. I wish my father could have seen it that way. Instead, he saw painting as a waste of time, money and effort. “What about you? What’s your passion?”

“I was a born and bred photographer.”

“That’s great.” I meant it, those who could see the world through a lens were amazing to me.

Miryam smiled, her gaze going distant. “That’s how Drakon and I met. I went on tour for a couple of days with the band he was in at the time. I ended up going right around Europe with them. We got married in Rome at the end of the tour and we’ve been together ever since.”

“That’s a wonderful story,” I replied.

“Yeah,” Miryam sighed. “It was a wonderful time.”

I asked, “Did you study photography in college?”

“No, my father taught me everything I know. He worked for National Geographic. He put a camera in my hand at age six and I refused to give it back. The next day he brought me an old second-hand one. I carried it everywhere I went. Everything I saw was through its viewfinder. Well, you know what I mean… The world made sense when I looked at it that way. Better than that, it made everything beautiful, special.” She pulled a couple of books out of a box, adding them to the shelves built into one wall. We’d already managed to half fill them with various books and mementoes.

“You know, Rhys has dated a lot of women over the years. But he’s different with you. I don’t know…” She paused and turned back to me. “The way he watches you, I think it’s adorable. It’s the first time he’s brought anyone here in six years.”

That surprised me. “Why was the place empty so long?”

Miryam’s smile faded and she avoided my eyes. “He wanted it to be his place to come home to, but then things changed. The band was just hitting it big. I guess things got complicated. He could explain it to you best.”

“Right,” I said, intrigued, but knowing it wasn’t a conversation I needed to have with her. I needed to have it with Rhys.

Miryam sat back on her haunches, looking around the room. “Listen to me rambling on. We’ve been at this all day. I think we deserve a break.”

With a relieved sigh, I fell back onto my ass and said, “I second that.”

Nearly half the boxes were open. The contents we couldn’t think of an immediate home for were lined up along one wall. A big plush black couch had been delivered. It fit the house and its owner perfectly. With various rugs, pictures and instruments strewn about, the place had almost begun to look like a home. I wondered if Rhysand would approve. Easily, I could picture us spending time here when I wasn’t in classes. Or maybe holidays would be spent touring. Our future was a beautiful, dazzling thing, filled with promise.

In the here and now, however, I still hadn’t caught up with Joey. A fact that caused me great guilt. Explaining this situation didn’t appeal and nor did confessing my fast-growing feelings for Rhys.

“Come on, let’s go grab some food from down the road. The bar does the best ribs you’ve ever tasted. Drakon goes crazy for them,” said Miryam.

“Let me run downstairs, I’ll let them know we’re going. Do I need to change?” I had on the black jeans and tank top, a pair of Converse. They were the only shoes I’d been able to find among Amarantha’s buys that didn’t feature four-inch-plus heels. Miryam wore jeans and a white shirt, with a heavy turquoise necklace around her throat. It was casual in theory, but Miryam was a striking woman.

“You’re dressed fine,” she said. “Don’t worry. It’s very relaxed.”

The sound of music still drifted up from downstairs. When I went down there, the door was shut and the red light was on. I could see Drakon with headphones on, busy at the console. I’d forgotten to charge my phone with all the recent excitement, but I didn’t have Rhys’s phone number so I couldn’t have texted him anyway. I didn’t want to interrupt. In the end, I left a note on the kitchen bench. We wouldn’t be gone long. Rhys probably wouldn’t even notice.

The bar was a traditional wooden wonderland with a big jukebox and three pool tables. Staff called out “hello”s to Miryam as we walked in. No one even blinked at me, which was a relief. The place was packed. It felt good to be back out among people, just part of the crowd. Miryam had phoned ahead but the order wasn’t ready yet. Apparently the kitchen was every bit as busy as the bar. We grabbed a couple of drinks and settled in to wait. It was a nice place, very relaxed. There was lots of laughter and country music blared from the jukebox. My fingers tapped along in time.

“Let’s dance,” said Miryam, grabbing my hand and tugging me out of my chair. She bopped and swayed as I followed her onto the crowded dance floor.

It felt good to let loose. Lady Antebellum turned into Kane Brown and I raised my arms, moving to the music. A guy came up behind me and grabbed my hips but he backed up a step when I shook my head with a smile. He grinned back at me and kept dancing, not moving away. A man spun Miryam and she whooped, letting him draw her into a loose hold. They seemed to know each other.

When the guy beside me moved a little closer I didn’t object. He kept his hands to himself and it was all friendly enough. I didn’t know the next song but it had a good beat and we kept right on moving. My skin grew damp with sweat, my hair clinging to my face.

Dude One moved away and another took his place, slipping an arm around my waist and trying to pull me in against him. I planted my hands on his chest and pushed back, giving him the same smile and head shake that had worked on the last. He might have been only about my height, despite the huge hat, but he was built solid. He had a big barrel of a chest and he stank of cigarette smoke

“No,” I said, still trying to push him off me. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, darlin’,” he yelled in my ear, knocking me in the forehead with the brim of his hat. Ow. “Dance with me.”

A little more forcefully, I said, “Let go.”

He grinned and both of his hands slapped down hard on my ass. The jerkoff started grinding himself against me.

“Hey!” I pushed against him, getting nowhere. “Get off me.”

“Darlin’.” The letch leaned in to kiss me, smacking me in the nose with the brim of his hat again. It hurt. Also, I hated him. If I could just wiggle my leg between his and knee the asswipe in the groin, I’d be able to even the playing field. Or leave him writhing on the floor crying for his mommy. An outcome I was fine with.

I shoved my foot between the two of his, getting closer to my objective. Closer…

“Let her go.” Rhys miraculously appeared out of the crowd beside us, a muscle ticking in his jaw. Oh, shit. He looked ready to kill.

“Wait your turn,” the cowboy yelled back, pushing his pelvis into me. God, it was disgusting. Puking could happen. It would be no less than he deserved.

Rhysand snarled. Then he grabbed the man’s hat and sent it flying off into the crowd. The man’s eyes went round as plates and his hands dropped away from me.

I skipped back a step, free at last. “Rhys—.”

He looked at me and in that moment, the cowboy swung. His fist clipped Rhys’s jaw. His head snapped back and he stumbled. The cowboy dove at him. They landed hard, sprawled across the dance floor. Fists flew. Feet kicked. I could barely see who did what. People formed a circle around them, watching. No one was doing anything to stop it. Blood spurted, spraying the floor. The pair rolled and pushed and Rhys came out on top. Then just as fast he fell aside. My pulse pounded behind my ears. The violence was startling. I hated it. The blood and the dirt, the mindless rage.

But I couldn’t just stand by, caught in a cold stupor. I wouldn’t.

A strong hand grabbed my arm, halting my forward momentum.

“No,” said Cass.

Then he and another couple of guys stepped in. Relief poured through me. Cass and Az wrestled Rhysand off the cowboy. Another pair restrained the bloody-faced fool who bellowed on and on about his hat. Goddamn idiot.

They hustled Rhys out of the bar, dragging him backward. Through the front doors and down the steps they went while his feet kicked out, trying to get back into it. And he kept right on fighting until they threw him up against Cassian’s big black truck.

“Knock it off!” Cass yelled in his face. “It’s over.”

Rhys slumped against the vehicle. Blood seeped from one nostril. His dark hair hung in his face. Even in the shadows he looked swollen, misshapen. Not half as bad as the other guy, but still.

“Are you okay?” I stepped closer to check the extent of his wounds.

“I’m fine,” he said, shoulders still heaving as he stared at the ground. “Let’s go.”

Moving in slow motion, he turned and opened the passenger side door, climbing in. With a mumbled goodbye, Miryam and Drakon headed for their own car. A couple of people stood on the steps leading into the bar, watching. One guy held a baseball bat as if he expected further trouble.

“Feyre. Get in the car.” Azriel opened the door to the back seat and ushered me in. “Come on. Cops could be coming. Or worse.”

Worse was the press. I knew that now. They’d be all over this in no time.

I got in the truck.

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

Cassian and Azriel disappeared as soon as we got home. Rhys stomped up the stairs to our bedroom. Was it really ours? I didn’t have a clue. But I followed. He turned and faced me as soon as I entered the room. His expression was fierce, dark brows down and his mouth a hard line. “You call that giving us a chance?”

Whoa.

I licked my lips, giving myself a moment. “I call it going out to pick up some food. The kitchen was running late so we got a beer. We liked the music so we decided to get up to dance for a couple of songs. Nothing more.”

“He was all over you,” he snapped.

I blinked, surprised by his sudden anger. “I was about to knee him in the balls.”

“You left without a fucking word!” he shouted.

“Don’t yell at me,” I said, searching for a calm I didn’t have in me just then. “I left you a note in the kitchen.”

He shoved his hands through his hair, visibly fighting for calm. “I didn’t see it. Why didn’t you come talk to me?”

“The red light was on. You were recording and I didn’t want to disturb you.” I could understand his frustration with the dude at the bar, but I didn’t know where this was coming from. “We weren’t supposed to be gone for long.”

Bruised face furious, he walked a few steps away then turned and marched back. No calmer from what I could tell despite the pacing. But at least he seemed to be trying. His temper was the third person in the room and it took up all the damn space. “I was worried. You didn’t even have your phone on you, I found it on the fucking table. Miryam’s phone kept going to voicemail.”

“I’m sorry you were worried.” I held out my hands, out of excuses for both of us. “I forgot to charge my phone. It never happens, but things have been a little crazy the past few days, you know that. I’ll try to be more careful from now on. But Rhys, nothing was going on. I’m allowed to leave the house.”

He ran a hand through his hair and said, “Fuck. I know that. I just…”

“You’re doing your thing, and that’s great—.”

“This was some sort of fucking punishment?” He forced the hard words out through gritted teeth. “Is that it?”

“No, of course not,” I sighed. Quietly.

“So you weren’t trying to get picked up?”

I blinked. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.” Slapping him upside the head wasn’t out of the question. I kept my clenched fists safely at my side, resisting the urge.

He asked, “Why’d you let him touch you?”

“I didn’t. I asked him to move back and he refused. That’s when you arrived.” I rubbed at my mouth with my fingers, fast running out of patience. “We’re just going around in circles here. Maybe we should talk about this later when you’ve had a chance to calm down.” Hands shaking, I turned toward the door.

“You’re leaving? Fucking perfect.” He threw himself back onto the bed. Laughter wholly lacking in humor came out of his mouth. “So much for us sticking together.”

I didn’t understand what was happening. “What? No. I don’t want to fight with you, Rhys. I’m going downstairs before we start saying shit we don’t mean. That’s all.”

“Go,” he said, his voice harsh. “I fucking knew you would.”

“Gods,” I growled, turning back to face him. The desire to scream and shout at him, to try to make some sense of this, boiled over inside of me. “Are you even listening to me? Are you hearing me at all? I’m not leaving you. Where is this coming from?”

He didn’t answer, just stared at me, eyes accusing. It made no sense.

I almost tripped getting back to him, my feet fumbling. Landing on my face would be perfect. It was exactly where this was heading. I didn’t even understand what we were fighting about anymore, if I ever had.

“Who are you comparing me to here?” I asked, every bit as angry as him now. “Because I am not her.”

He kept right on glaring at me.

“Well?” I asked.

His lips stayed shut and my frustration and fury skyrocketed. I wanted to grab him and shake him. Make him admit to something, anything. Make him tell me what the hell was really going on.

I crawled onto the bed, getting in his face. “Rhys, talk to me!”

Nothing.

Fine.

I pushed back with trembling legs and tried to crawl off the mattress. He grabbed at my arms, trying to hold on. And like fuck he was. I pushed back hard. All brawling limbs, we tumbled off the bed and rolled onto the floor. His back hit the hardwood floor. Immediately, he rolled us again, putting me on the bottom. My blood pounded behind my ears. I kicked and pushed and wrestled him with all the angst he’d inspired in me. Before he could get his bearings I rolled us again, regaining the uppermost position. He couldn’t stop me, the bastard. Escape was imminent.

But it didn’t happen.

Rhys grabbed my face in both hands and mashed his lips to mine, kissing me with everything he had. I opened my mouth and his tongue slipped in. The kiss was rough and wet. Breathing was an issue. It seemed we both had some anger management issues and neither of us entirely refrained from biting. With his bruised mouth, he definitely had the most to lose. It wasn’t long before the metallic taste of blood hit my tongue.

He pulled back with a hiss, fresh blood on his swollen top lip. “Fuck.”

He grabbed my hands. I didn’t make it easy on him, struggling for all I was worth. But he was stronger. He pinned them to the floor above my head with relative ease. The press of his hard-on between my legs felt exquisite, it drove me insane. And the more I bucked against him, the better it got. Adrenaline had already been pouring through me, amping me up. The need to have him sat just below the surface, prickling my skin, making me hyper aware of everything.

So this was angry sex. I couldn’t bring myself to hurt him, not really. But there were other ways to assert myself in this situation. He came back to my mouth and I nipped him again in warning.

A mad smile appeared on his face. It probably matched my own. We were both panting, fighting for air. Both stubborn as hell. Without another word he released my wrists and drew back. Quickly, he grabbed my waist and turned me over, pulling me up onto my elbows and knees. Arranging me how he wanted me. Rough hands tore at the button and zip on my jeans. He yanked down my pants and crazily overpriced thong, body poised over mine.

His hands smoothed over my ass. Teeth dragged over the sensitive skin of one cheek, just above the tattoo of his name. A hand slipped beneath to cup my sex. The press of his fingers against me had me seeing stars. When they started stroking me, working me higher, I couldn’t hold back my moan. He nipped me on the ass again, a sharp sting of sensation. Then he pressed kisses up my spine. Stubble from his chin scratched my shoulder.

The lack of words, the absolute silence apart from our heavy breathing made it more. It made it different.

One finger slid inside me. Not nearly enough, damn it. He slid in a second finger, stretching me a little. Once, twice, he slowly pumped it into me. I pushed back against his hand, needing more. Next came the sound of the bedside drawer sliding open as he searched for a condom. His fingers slid out of me and the loss was excruciating. I heard his zipper being lowered, the rustle of clothes and the crinkle of a condom wrapper. Then his cock pressed against me, rubbing over my opening. He pushed in slow and steady, filling me up until there was nothing left that wasn’t me and him. For a moment he stopped, letting me adjust.

But not for long.

Hands gripped my hips and he began to move. Each thrust was a little faster and harder than the last. Labored breathing and the slap of skin against skin swallowed the silence. The scent of sex hung heavy in the air. I pushed back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust, spurring him on. It was nothing like the sweet and slow of this morning. Neither of us was tender. My jeans shackled me at the knees, making me slip forward a little with each thrust. His fingers dug into my hips, holding me in place. He stroked over something inside me and I gave a startled gasp. Again and again, he concentrated on that spot, making me mindless. I felt superheated. Like fire burned through me. Sweat dripped off my skin. I hung my head, closed my eyes and held onto the floor with all my might. My voice called out without my consent, saying his name. Damn it. My body wasn’t my own. I came hard, overwhelmed with sensation. My back bowed and I threw my head back, every muscle drawn tight.

Rhys pounded into me, hands slipping over my slick skin, reaching forward and grabbing my hair in his fist. I continued to come, the orgasm seeming to go on forever and ever, the tug on my roots only adding fuel to the fire. He came a moment later, releasing his hold on my hair, groaning my name in the most erotic way, holding himself deep. His face rested against my back, one arm wrapped around my body, which was lucky. I’d lost all traction. Slowly I slid to the floor.

In silence, he picked me up and carried me into the bathroom, sat me on the sink. Without fuss he dealt with the condom, started running a bath, holding a hand beneath the faucet to check the temperature. He undressed me like I was a child, pulling off my sneakers and socks, my jeans and panties. He tugged off my shirt and unclasped my bra. His own clothes were ripped off with far less care. I felt curiously naked with him now, the way he was treating me. Being so careful with me despite my biting and inexperience. He treated me like I was precious. Like I was a china doll. One he could apparently have rough sex with upon occasion. Once more, he checked the water, then he picked me up again and into the bath we went.

I huddled against him, my skin cooling off fast. He held me tighter, resting his cheek against the top of my head.

“I’m sorry if I was too rough,” he said finally. “I didn’t mean it, accusing you of shit like that. I just… Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“Rough wasn’t a problem, but the trust issue… We’re going to need to talk about it sometime.” I rested my head against his shoulder, staring up into his troubled eyes.

His chin jerked as he gave me a tight nod.

I quietly said, “But right now, I’d like to talk about Vegas.”

The arms around me tensed. “What about Vegas?”

I stared back at him, still trying to think everything through. Not wanting to get this wrong, whatever this was.

Marriage, that’s what it was.

Shit.

“We’ve covered a lot of ground in the last twenty-four hours,” I said.

“Yeah, I guess we have,” he replied, looking down at me.

I held up my hand, my sparkly ring. The size of the diamond didn’t matter. That Rhysand had put it on me was what made it important. “We talked about lots of things. We slept together, and we made promises to each other, important ones.”

He nodded. “You regretting any of it?”

My hand slid around the back of his neck. “No. Absolutely not. But if you woke up tomorrow, and you’d somehow forgotten all of this. If it was all gone for you, like it had never happened, I would be furious at you.”

His forehead wrinkled and he looked away.

I added, “I’d hate you for forgetting all this when it’s meant everything to me.”

He licked his lips and turned off the tap with a foot. Without the water gushing out, the room quieted instantly.

“Yeah,” he said. “I was angry.”

“I’m not going to let you down like that again.”

Beneath me his chest rose and fell heavily. “Okay.”

“I know it takes time to learn to trust someone.” I carefully turned his face back to mine. “But in the meantime, I need you to at least give me the benefit of the doubt.”

“I know.” Wary, violet eyes watched me.

I sat up and reached for the washcloth on the edge of the bath. “Let me clean you up a little.”

A dark lump sat on his jaw. Blood lingered beneath his nose and near his mouth. He was a mess. A big red mark was on his ribs.

“You should see a doctor,” I said.

He shook his head. “Nothing’s broken.”

Carefully, I wiped the blood from the side of his mouth and beneath his nose. Seeing him in pain was horrible. Knowing I was the cause made my stomach twist and turn. “Tell me if I press too hard.”

“You’re fine.”

“I’m sorry you got hurt. In the bar tonight, and in Vegas. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

His eyes softened and his hands slid over me. “I want you to come back to LA with me. I want you with me. I know school will start back eventually and we’re gonna have to work something out. But whatever happens, I don’t want us apart.”

I shook my head. “We’re not going to be.”

“Promise?” He breathed, leaning down to kiss me.

“Promise.”

#what happens in vegas #snelbz whiv #feysand #snelbz tacmc collab #snacmc #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

Text

Title: A Tale of Two Slaves (13/17)

Summary: “Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn’t exist. Everything is a choice.” At that moment, Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him.“

Reincarnation AU. Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn’t.

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Every year, for a few weeks at a time, life had a tendency of stopping.

And it had been following that same pattern for the past few years.

For Levi, the first signs of the freeze came when the last few red leaves fell to the ground, revealing the branches underneath. The trees were bare, the wind chill was cruel and the sky was constantly grey.

But the freeze was only a prelude that accompanied something much more daunting.That period of time in particular manifested as some sort of a limbo. That painful limbo where every student was suddenly reminded that maybe taking five classes at once was a bad idea.That limbo were suddenly all students ever had to think about were those five classes they were taking. Yet for some reason, everyone still found a reason to be stressed.

No training. No club activities.

Just deadline after deadline. Group work after group work. Exam after exam.

Of course it would be stressful. Since for many people, those last few submissions leading up to the holidays were always the most decisive. Making that deadline, making something of quality in that deadline always spelled the difference between honors and mediocre, a C for a degree or a failing F. Especially since for the first few months of school anyway, the urgency never hit.

Levi never had been one of those students gunning for honors. The regular tournaments and the twice a day training and the human need for some rest afterwards always meant that Levi was only barely passing most classes while every now and then scoring a B in one.

He was one of those people who thought of the final few weeks of school as some sort of a messiah, some last chance to pull a D to a C or if he were lucky a B. And those periods in limbo blurred so easily into hazy memories of sleepless nights, irrationally strong hate over some particularly shitty groupmate and those few hour long exams where Levi could have sworn his heart hadn’t even been beating.

He hadn’t expected his senior year to be any different. But on the days leading up to finals week, he started to realize he had fewer exams, a little more papers than usual. A side effect of being a senior in a non science course.

It could have been the luck of the draw maybe but his teachers had been kind and had requested he just send everything over.

Two requirements and One thesis. And Levi could always do it from the comfort of the study hall in the dorm.

The study hall was a medium sized building, most frequented by dormers.

One of its most notable characteristics was the window wide enough that anyone studying would be almost incapable of ignoring the scenery just outside. And in winter, the grey sky, the bare trees and the glass of the window that would fog up at the lightest caress were the main constants of the scenery. And even if it was impossible to ignore for most students, Levi didn’t think too much of it that winter in particular. Since the days leading up to deadlines, Hange had been right next to him.

There were those few moments in between studying when he would allow himself some reprieve. Picking what to focus on had never been a challenge. The dreary early winter scenery felt chilly even from the comfort of the heated study hall yet without even trying and Hange emitted a warmth that had resonated more powerfully than any feelings and preconceived notions rooted in his four years in a bubble. Her hums, her thoughtless mutters even her unfocused brown eyes the few times she looked up to give herself a quick rest, without even trying, they had felt warm and welcoming.

Maybe because just those small actions had been more than enough for Levi to feel very much connected to someone. For the first winter in his college life, Levi wasn’t alone

Although with the long hours studying, they never went too far beyond exchanging some few words, engaging some small talk. When their brains were completely fried, there wasn’t much else they could discuss anyway.

But they didn’t need to talk. Levi already felt it --- as he allowed the scratching of pen and paper and the familiar clack of the keyboard to keep him company in the stark silence of the study hall--- she had done her part to make that early a winter warmer than it usually was. She had done her part as well to make that limbo, that harsh in-between classes and holidays, almost enjoyable, a significant improvement from that limbo he had always braced himself to power through, every single year.

As he became a little more aware of her constant company, sometimes he could imagine the limbo had never been there, and it had all been a faint memory, a faint illusion of his life before.

And all Hange had to do was be there. Even when she was silent, highlighting line after line, cross checking journals and study guides, Hange managed to find a way to still be present.

When it came to studies, Hange’s case was a stark contrast to his, more urgent and more demanding, almost admirable. She had a full load and although Levi never did memorize her schedule, he figured it out soon enough having spent the days leading up to the exams cooped up with her in the study hall.

Exam after exam after exam.

And Hange was never without her laptop, her printed out study guides and her ebook reader. And she had been that way, all the way until the last day of exams, when the lobby of the dorm had emptied out, the hallways to his room a lot less busy and when Levi was particularly less self conscious about the awkward way he pulled his injured self up the stairs to his dorm room every night.

Everyone had gone home for the holidays already. And soon enough, it wasn’t such an odd sight to see just her familiar shape alone in the study hall.

The first day she didn’t have study guides felt like a big change.

He picked her out so easily, especially when there was nobody else hunched over their own notes. And Levi who had sat with her every single day in the study hall couldn't help but celebrate such a tiny development. “You’re done with exams?” He asked as he settled on the chair in front of her.

“One final paper,” Hange said, not looking up from her laptop.

“And then winter break?”

“And then I can finally work on my thesis.”

“Any ideas?”

“Yeah, some.”

“So you’ll probably be working during the break huh?”

Hange sat back on the chair and crossed her arms. “You know, I’m lucky enough the department is still allowing me to make a thesis even without a proposal presentation."

"At least you get to graduate on time."

"I know. This is just a weird place to be when at the start of the year, I was gunning for some best thesis award. Now I’m the only student in my block who’s disqualified. And on top of that, I’m starting from scratch again.”

“You could have continued from the last one.”

Hange closed her laptop and rested her chin on her hand. “I didn’t pick that topic because I wanted to. I just felt it was the most practical option. And when I consulted my parents, they said that was the best option to save time.”

“And it was.”

“But it felt weird. I couldn't bring myself to ask you the right questions or check your knee everyday. You were constantly in pain, sad, for a while you might even have been depressed…” Hange trailed off. She looked outside at the scenery on the other side of the window.

Levi could almost see the grey reflected on her eyes.

Hange continued. “I thought back to how you fucked up your knee and I realized I was reckless. When you scraped your knee I was there, then I pushed you to jump for my thesis and when I fucked up your life… and you never felt it even a little weird or annoying that I would be getting something out of it?" She looked at him as if expecting him to say something.

"I made the decision to push myself. Not you."

“Levi, please be honest. did I pressure you?” That was the moment, Hange chose to meet his gaze. She had a pleading look in her eyes that only made it difficult for Levi to reach within him for him some sort of a response.

He had the answer and it was so easily within reach. Yes, she did pressure him. But was that something he would have wanted to admit?

And when he started to ask more questions, he soon started to ask another more important question, was it Hange who had pushed him to do it? Or was it this image of Hange he was projecting onto her?

“You didn’t pressure me,” Levi said.

“Then why were you working so hard? Why did you push yourself?”

“Because… I felt pressured.”

“If not me, then by what? What pressured you?”

“Myself?” And by extension, everything else maybe? Captain Levi? Commander Hange Zoe? He added to himself. But he wasn’t crazy enough to say it.

“But here’s the thing, I could have sworn you were much calmer than that during the competitions. Actual competitions. But then since we met, ever since you scraped your knee, you were pushing yourself more than usual, you were much more tense. What were you working so hard for?”

“I pressured myself.”

“For what?” Hange’s eyes were boring holes into him. “I’m not your coach. Hell, I’m not an arbiter. I’m not an Olympic team scout. All I needed was your data for a thesis nobody was probably going to read anyway.”

“Don’t you have a paper to finish?”

“The final deadline is next week and I’m more than halfway done already. I have more than enough time to talk,” Hange said. Her face morphed into something a little more desperate. “Levi, I wanna know, what did I do wrong?”

At that moment, Levi froze. His eyes were completely fixed on hers, and he could only watch the way she started to study him, as if searching for an answer in the way he sat, the way he leaned back on the chair, the way he gripped the corner of the table. At once, Levi had become aware of all of his nervous ticks.

The tension in the room was thick enough at least for Levi to tell, that he wasn’t the only one feeling the discomfort. He willed himself to lean back further, get a wider view of her and he noticed the subtle signs, her hands were shaking, her lips were letting out a hint of a tremble.

Hange seemed to be in a similar state, self conscious and nervous. Maybe even ready to repent for whatever she had believed she had done wrong. As if she almost wanted to hear insults, criticisms and she even seemed ready to take a punch in the face.

But Levi’s thoughts were far from that.

The day they met, she had introduced herself and had approached him like they were close friends already.

The night they met, she had hid in the dark, watching silently while he trained. That night, she had stitched up his knee.

And in that process, she made him remember things.

You made me remember things.

And those things were what had pushed him to ‘tense up,’ to ‘work hard’ and to impress her.

But really was it anything wrong? “You didn’t do anything wrong,” Levi said. “I told you, I made the decision to push myself on my own.”

“But what did I do to push you?”

“Do you have to be doing something to push me? What if I just met you? And I thought, I wanna help her write her thesis then things happened, then overtime I realized I’m enjoying this.”

Hange shrugged. “You pitied your biggest fan enough to give her a freebie huh?”

“I said ‘I’d gladly stay by your side.’” I don’t think people give promises like that as freebies.”

“But you just met me.”

“You haven’t even met me and you were already keeping pictures of me like some sort of stalker.”

Hange only smiled at such an accusation. Within the few months, they had gotten used to a little banter after all. “Are you just humoring me?”

“No. I’m not. I’m happy to have met you and I said it then, I’ll say it again. If you want me to, I’ll stay by your side.”

“It’s just weird, okay. You have a lot more fans than you think you do. And you get friendly with me, some frumpy nerdy fan who followed your tournaments like crazy….”

“What other explanation would you like for this? Soulmates? Fate?”

“I don’t believe in any of those,” Hange said. “I don’t wanna believe in it. I like to think that I just made the decision to reach out to you. And I just got lucky you decided to reciprocate.”

“Then I got lucky you reached out too, Hange. This goes both ways.”

“I guess it does.” Hange closed her laptop and looked up at the ceiling. “Sorry if this came out of nowhere. With my last exam over, this was the only time I got to think about it again. But you know, thanks for staying here with me even if I was ignoring you half the time.”

“I knew you had a lot to make up for and besides, I’m fine just quietly sitting by.”

Hange’s features softened into a warm smile. “Me too. I’ll make this up to you. If I get this paper written by Friday. I’ll submit then. After that, you wanna go somewhere? Just the two of us?”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to work on your thesis?”

“Your birthday is on the 25th right? But I wanna do something for Christmas so I’m thinking... what if we have an early birthday celebration and we do something else for Christmas?

“You know that’s my birthday Hange, I get to decide how I wanna spend it.”

“But what if it’s my treat?”

“It’s still my birthday.”

Hange gave him a long look. “Okay, what about this? I’m hoping to use your stories for references to my thesis. And I wanna make it up to you… I’ll treat you out on Saturday for that then after, you decide what you wanna do on your birthday.”

“I never said we couldn’t do that for my birthday.”

“Well if you were just more direct with things we wouldn't have to bounce off ideas like this back and forth. Are we celebrating your birthday early or not?”

“And besides I never even said anything about you using my stories for your thesis.”

“Just answer the questions one at a time Levi,” Hange pressed. She checked her watch. “And...I’m meeting someone in a few minutes.”

“Before I answer, what’s your thesis about?”

Hange looked ready to pull her hair out in frustration. “I don’t know yet but I might use it. Anyway, if you’re not gonna answer me, then we treat this Saturday as my celebration for your birthday. Deal?”

“Yes to the thesis. Yes to the early birthday. Are you happy?”

Hange let out a loud sigh of exasperation. “There. Why did that take so long to get out of you?”

Levi ignored that question. “So when are you going to tell me what your new thesis is about?”

“Maybe during your actual birthday? If you bestow on me the privilege of celebrating such an important occasion with you?“ Hange suggested. She quickly gathered her things and dumped it into her canvas bag. Her movements were wilder, messier than usual. So messy Levi found himself cringing at such a sight. He was fairly certain Hange had done that on purpose.

He only confirmed it a second later, as Hange bolted towards the door and gave him the most smug face.

Levi was sure, if he wasn’t so injured, he probably would have bolted right after her. And he was certain he would have caught up to her.

***

“Nice hoodie. The color green really suits you,” Hange called in a way of greeting.

There were no hi’s or hello’s and she hadn’t given one in a while. Yet for some reason, such an unconventional greeting still had Levi raising eyebrows. “Is this your way of making up for a few days ago?”

Hange shrugged. “What if I just wanted to compliment your new hoodie?”

“For one, this is not a new hoodie,” Levi said. “Besides we didn’t separate on the best of terms last Wednesday and you didn’t even reply to my messages after.”

“Well, I finished my paper and I started my thesis… And hey... I did leave you some messages.”

Levi was sure he didn’t receive any messages. He did not receive any notifications for sure. On top of that, he had taken the liberty as well to check back to his inbox every hour or so. Just to make sure his notifications were actually working

But still just in case he was mistaken, he checked his phone under her confused yet watchful gaze only to find that in fact he was right, she didn’t send any messages. He opened up to their untouched chat box and showed it to her.

“Did you check your document?”

“My document?”

“The one with the soldier and titan stories.”

“Why the hell would you leave messages there?”

“I was catching up to it okay.” Hange’s lips curled up into a smile as she spoke. “And I really enjoyed it. A lot. I left so many comments there. I thought you’d reply.”

Levi looked away guiltily. He turned off the notifications on the document a few weeks back. He liked to blame finals week for the inactivity. Yet with all his final papers completed and submitted, he was still making a conscious effort to ignore that document.

But did he want to tell her that? For a while maybe he did consider telling her he had no intention of touching it again.

But Hange continued talking. “When Commander Hange told Captain Levi to live with him in the woods… Wow you know you described it pretty well, I could almost imagine what was happening. Actually, now that I think about it, I think I managed to dream up something like that. But why did you have to end like that?” Hange twisted her face into a little too serious of an expression. “Shoot or listen it’s up to you.” Hange repeated, an attempt at mimicking Captain Levi for sure, but it was too comical given the context of the tirade.

Shoot or listen it’s up to you.

What if Captain Levi got shot? Before Levi could speak up though, Hange pressed on.

“Now that exams are over… are you gonna write more?”

Levi didn’t reply. Or at least, he couldn’t bring himself to verbalize a reply. Maybe he had brought his head up then down, in the form of some small nod. Maybe it could have been just him looking up to see the crowds making their way to the train station.

The train station closest to their university was one of the busiest ones in town. Even a little past eight on a Saturday morning, there were still crowds large enough that navigating through them still required some effort.

And whether Hange had seen that nod, or whether she had been too distracted by the buying of tickets and the navigating of crowds, Levi never thought too much about it. He brushed the thought aside as soon as she herself abandoned that topic of conversation and the question she asked only a second ago.

And she didn’t push that topic of conversation any longer. Even after they arrived at the platform, even after they boarded the train.

Train rides were always quiet. No one really ever started conversation in trains, instead passing the times with their phones on silent mode, save for a few children who still weren’t completely familiar yet with that unwritten rule

At that moment though, Levi was thankful. Hange was silent. He was silent. And he had a little more mind space to decide how to navigate the topic of his story.

Just in case she did ask again.

***

“Question, so is that the type of green that you imagined for the survey corps cloak?” Hange asked, pinching the sleeve of his hoodie.

Levi looked down at his hoodie. The hoodie was of a dark green color, and he only had to take a glance to put two and two together. “Yes it is.”

“I thought it would be. You know this is the same green I’m imagining.”

Levi smiled. He met Hange’s gaze and even when Hange had looked away, making her way to the park entrance, he made an effort to follow her gaze.

“You thought this far huh?” Levi asked, as she stopped at the turnstile and inserted her ticket then his ticket in.

Hange grabbed a flyer on the way out and looked back at him. “It was a good read. I really felt like I was in the story. And you know, it might sound weird but I kinda really saw myself in her. You know that passion she felt, with the titans and all… I think I’ve felt something similar back when I was still winning competitions when I was younger. I did loads of research back in high school.”

Levi only had to look back at the long hours he had spent stalking her on article after article to confirm that she was telling the truth.

Hange’s rambles about her research in high school though soon faded into some good background noise. He remembered some points, he forgot some. Then, his main focus though had been the green scenery that welcomed him as soon as they exited the train station. The station exit had opened up to a park, a large park with no end in sight. Only flowers and shrubs that lead up to trees with the mountains and horizons at the back of it all.

“When I was reading your story, they talked about what lay beyond the walls… For some reason, I imagined this park. I saw it on a documentary a few years back, streams that seem like they stretch out for eternity, miles and miles of mountains and forests. They said, when you step out of the station, it would feel like another world. And when I thought about what to do for your birthday...” Hange trailed off as she stepped forward into the main path. “I thought… why not show you the scenery I imagined? Maybe I could contribute to your story, help inspire you to write. I hope this view didn’t disappoint.”

It doesn’t. It’s beautiful.

Thinking about it, of course there had been a little more people exiting the train at that station. Of course the station would be much larger and a little more exquisite than other stations.

The view proved to be very much worth the three hour travel and the struggle of changing trains.

They had taken a regional train, then had switched to a few local ones. And looking out the window of the train then, Levi had appreciated how the landscape quickly changed almost blending across one another, the bare trees which almost had a grey tint to them, had gradually shifted to dull bare rice fields. Somewhere in between, the evergreen trees made their entrance, slowly then all at once, in some strange sort of way that Levi was never able to pick out the exact moment that he was sure, the evergreen trees were there to stay for good.

The snow had yet to fall there, and with the evergreen trees and the moss and lichens that littered the paths, Levi could at least pretend it wasn’t winter yet.

Green after all, was a very warm color.

Hange opened her map and leaned a little closer towards Levi so he could get a good look. The map was all green, decorated with markers, mini mountains, rest houses, water refill areas, toilets and picnic sites. There were flower symbols, marked by season. And skirting the circumference of the map were three circles: a large green one, inside it a red one, inside it a yellow one, a very small circle that covered two picnic areas and one flower area occupied the center and next to it a bright red arrow marker ‘You are here.’

“So, I know you wouldn’t be able to handle too much of a walk yet, so we could stick to something short? Just skirt around this area…” She traced the smallest circle along the park and turned to him expectantly.

“What do you wanna see?” Levi asked.

“Anything really. I’m just happy to be able to visit a park like this.”

“No, really Hange. What do you wanna see?” Levi pressed. He planted his bum leg on the ground and stepped forward with it with a little more finesse as if to prove a point. I can walk at least. “If I wasn’t injured right now, where would you have pulled me to go?”

There was some progress at least. He was surprised to see that he could put some extra weight on his knee without so much as a wobble. The stiff brace was probably doing all the work then but Levi was confident he could get a good number of steps across before tiring out his body.

“I’m sure we both don’t want another hospital visit.,” Hange warned.

“I’m fine. I’ve had enough physical therapy lessons and I managed to put some weight on my knee already. Even without the brace..”

For a second, there was a glimmer of hope in Hange’s eyes. She blinked it back before Levi could be sure. “I’m fine with the shortest path,” she said. “This blue one.”

“Are you sure? All we’re gonna see if we follow this path are two picnic sites, a mini forest and one portapotty. You’ll be disappointed.”

“But Levi, what if you get injured again?”

“Didn’t you say this was my birthday treat?”

“We can always go again---”

“In the summer? After you finish your thesis?” Levi raised one eyebrow at her in accusation. “We endured a three hour train ride for this. Let’s make the most of it.”

“Then… which path do you wanna follow?” Hange asked.

Levi gently placed one finger on the green one and traced it. He had only gone half way before Hange pulled the map away.

“No way. That’s at least a five kilometer hike,” Hange said.

Levi pulled the map back gently and pointed at the markers. “Come on, the landscape here seems pretty flat and there’s a forest here and a river. And if we walk ahead here... I’m guessing you wanna see the mountain? They built an observatory there,” Levi said. “Didn’t you say you wanted to know how it feels like to fly?”

Hange’s face turned a little red, her eyes looking a little unfocused as she followed the map with her eyes and looked ahead at the scenery. When Levi squinted, he could tell the peak which stood out from the rest, the small lump that stuck out on one of the hills, a little higher than the rest.

“You didn’t get to do this a lot when you were a kid huh?” Levi asked. He didn’t intend it to be a provocation at first. But when Hange folded her map and took a deep breath, he was grateful for those last few words that popped into his head then.

“My parents didn’t really like taking vacations in the countryside,” Hange admitted.

“One round around there, maybe we’ll go all the way up to the observatory and back,” Levi said. “And if my knee starts hurting, I promise, I’ll tell you.”

Hange’s lips curled up into a playful smile. “If I need to, I’ll carry you back.” She walked ahead, gesturing for him to follow. Levi was almost tempted not to follow. That little playful of an offer and the uncertainty that came with Levi wondering a little too hard about whether she was kidding or nothing, had him entertaining the idea of turning his back on her for a second.

Just to mess with her.

The view had been much stronger then, the way the sun shone on Hange and reflected on her glasses had been too beautiful of a view. It had been a while since he’d seen that much green.

And it wouldn’t be that way for the next three months at least.

As he followed her to the path that followed that large green sign, Levi started to think, maybe that experience might just be worth the embarrassment of a piggy back ride on the way back.

***

Man down!

Hey! Are you alive?

“So the river must be pretty near here huh...” Hange said, not looking up from the map.

Levi had heard the sound of the rushing water stream before she had mentioned it. Whether it had been a river or a stream, he didn’t bother trifling with such detail. The trees that lined the main path, and the sound of rushing water had brought him somewhere else, to another time.

“Wanna see the river?” Hange grabbed his hand, and pulled him towards a smaller path that had been unnoticeable from his peripherals.

As Levi looked to the right, to the shrubs that opened up into an empty space, he noticed the remnants of a path almost completely concealed by shrubs.

“Why would you wanna see the river?”

Hange shrugged. “We don’t get to see this much nature often right? If we follow it…. Maybe we can see a waterfall at the end?”

Levi narrowed his eyes. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen that much nature since he had gone home for a visit more than a few years ago. Maybe that was why the greens and the landscapes had been oddly fascinating.

And Hange. Hange was a lot more entranced than he was. He could have sworn he had lost her a few times to the trees that lined the path.

“We take a look,” Levi said. “Then we go back on the path. I don’t want us getting lost here.”

Hange was too engrossed in her surroundings and then, her eyes had looked a little too wild. But the moment Levi had mentioned that last part, Hange twisted her face into a pout, a pout of defeat at least. “You’re right. Let’s just check out the river here and go back the way we came.” She clutched his hand, gripping a little tighter than usual. “Your knee is still okay right?”

Levi nodded. There could have been some lie to the reaction but it was still too small of a lie for him to need to justify anything. His knee ached for sure. It was an ache dull enough though for Levi to clock it to the tightness of his brace.

To his relief, the river was only less than a two minute walk away. It had seemed farther due to the dense forest that lined the main path. But the density could have been an illusion as well. It opened up to a treeless plain, just a good few meters of grass and beyond that was a river that harbored such a violent flow of water.

Both violent and peaceful, Levi soon realized. As if it was the river’s business to just run hurriedly towards its destination while at the same time crashing towards the shore.

“The river I imagined was a lot like this,” Hange spoke up.

“What river?”

“The one in your story.” Hange answered matter-of-factly. Her eyes were wide with surprise.

Levi wondered if his face showed any sign of that little charade. He had recognized it after all, long before Hange had even mentioned it. It turned out, only the rushing sound of water was enough for him to recall it so vividly.

The view in front of him only added salt to the wounds he just recently realized he had.

Phantom wounds. Even the word phantom couldn’t really justify how it felt then. Back he had written it, he could empathize for sure. Then and there, the view in front of him, had him touching his right eye, just to make sure it was still there and soon after, he wiggled his two fingers just to make sure they were still attached.

“Commander Hange found him in a river like this right? Did you imagine this kind of river too?”

“Maybe,” Levi muttered. He didn’t think too far as to the width of the river or the shape of the blades of grass below. The rushing of the river, the tone of Hange’s voice were enough at least to make him realize that could have very much been the river banks she had found him on. “Commander Hange would now.” Levi added a second later.

Hange cleared her throat. “Well then, I’ll make you imagine it. Call me commander Hange Zoe,” Hange said. “So after the river, where did we go next, Captain Levi?”

“You read it right?”

“They jumped into the river together,” Hange said.

Levi’s eyes widened. “They did?” Levi had dreamt of splashes, the cold water slapping at his face and the numbness that followed. Of course that would have meant them jumping into the river. But why had it taken him so long to put two and two together? “Yeah you’re right. They did.”

Hange chuckled. “Weren’t you the one who wrote it?” She looked back at the dense foliage behind them and back at him. “Let’s go back?”

“Yeah… Sure…” Levi turned on his heel, making his way back to the path only stopping when Hange grabbed at his arm and put it around her shoulder.

“You’re walking much slower now you know,” she said. “Should we go back?”

Levi shook his head. “No, keep going.” His weight on her shoulders was a familiar sensation, almost nostalgic. And the green around him, the breeze and the peaceful rustle of leaves only helped to comfort him further.

There may have been some others along the trail, but Levi wasn’t looking at anyone else. Along the way on the path, the small support had evolved to a piggy back ride.

Surprisingly, Levi wasn’t at all self conscious.

“You’re much lighter than I thought you would be.”

“I honestly feel like I’ve lost weight since the injury. I probably had a lot more muscle back in the summer.” Levi let his head hang back as he stared up at the blue sky above him. The two stopped for a rest in one of the forest clearings a good few meters away from the path.

The ground beneath him was dirty for sure and he felt the leaves and stones through his thick joggers. For some reason though, he wasn’t at all in a hurry to get up.

Hange squeezed his leg. “I’d think physical therapy would have done something about that.”

“Hange, can anyone actually gain muscle learning how to walk again?”

“I’m pretty sure you do other stuff in therapy.”

“Yeah, but it’s far from the training I used to do for high jumps,” Levi said. “Even if my knee magically heals now, who knows if I’ll even be able to manage a two meter jump again.”

Hange closed her eyes and hummed, seeming deep in thought for a second. “Captain Levi was humanity’s strongest,” she said. “Then he got injured in some explosion and ended up half dead on the banks of the river.”

Levi could only watch silently as Hange pulled her legs a little closer to herself and pressed one finger to her left eye and before he knew it, Levi found himself mirroring that slight movement, the phantom pains returned for a split second.

“But I can’t imagine the story ended there. Humanity’s strongest soldier wouldn’t go out of commission over an injury like that. After that, he had to continue fighting right?” Hange continued.

Maybe we should just live here together. Right Levi?

If we keep running and hiding, what will that get us.

The rustle of the leaves, the clear sky above him and the way Hange had rested her elbow on her knees, touching her hand to her left eye. Those were more than enough crumbs for Levi to almost hear the conversation in the silence.

Shoot or Listen. It’s up to you.

“He continued fighting,” Levi said. He let out a cough. “No--- They continued fighting. Captain Levi and Commander Hange Zoe did.”

***

“Maybe I should have built a cart,” Hange said as she rested on the bench. She heaved a breath so strong Levi could have believed she had held her breath the whole way to the rest house.

“You didn’t have to support me here. I could have walked it.”

“Believe me Levi, this isn’t much. It’s like just another day in the gym,” Hange said.

“If we were doing this months ago I could have done five rounds of this trail with you on my back.”

Hange grinned. “Is that a challenge?”

“I said five months ago. Not now.”

Levi stretched his arms out, noting how heavy it was then, particularly when compared to months ago. Back then, it had been his arms carrying him over the bar, then and there stretched out in front of him, those same arms felt like dead weight. And the dead weight stretched out to all parts of his body, all the way until his legs, settling particularly on his braced knee.

And for a second, it hurt. Enough for Levi to instinctively put his hand on top of it, an attempt to pacify it before it got unbearable.

A second later, another propped her hand on top of his and Levi followed it all the way up until Hange.

Her face was hopeful, her eyes wide with what could have been curiosity and soon enough, maybe plans and ideas. “When your knee heals, let’s do this again,” she said.

The path wouldn’t change. It would pass by the same glades, the same rivers and through the halfway point that was the rest house.

The seasons would change the scenery for sure, each would bring its own flavor to the paths. But Levi was sure that wasn’t what Hange was thinking about then as she looked elsewhere, first scanning her surroundings then settling somewhere above.

Levi didn’t have to follow her gaze to know it. It had been the main attraction since they had gotten past the forest and into the clearing.

Of course, that was what Hange would have liked to see.

There was a reason the rest house had been placed so conveniently there at that halfway point. In front of the rest house, the mountain path broke into a fork, one with the green sign which would loop back to the entrance, the other snaked up the mountain, so steeply Levi was sure in his current state, he would only injure himself further if he attempted to climb to the top.

And what lay above there, was the observatory, the one lump he had remembered seeing from the entrance of the station.

We walked that far? Levi thought to himself then. He looked to Hange who was still very much focused on the view of the observatory from their place on the bench.

You’re still looking at it? “You really wanna check it out?” Levi asked.

“The what?” Hange looked back at him, her eyes wide with surprise.

“The observatory, on the peak, up there.”

“Maybe next time.” She shrugged, “Even if you insist, I’m not making you climb that.”

The trail was steep enough at least that Levi was sure they’d have to be on all fours for a good majority of that difficult hike.

“You wanna get something to eat?” Hange asked as she held a hand out to help him up.

“Sure.”

The resthouse only offered the bare minimum, rice balls and sandwiches as if they were doing their part to prevent anybody else from overeating mid hike. Those amenities, the indoor benches and the indoor heating was more than enough though for an already exhausted Levi.

It was as if his body realized that it was time to rest, and chose that moment to complain, putting emphasis in particular to the aches and pains on his knee. Even holding on to Hange who had supported him the rest of the way, had brought with it a few more unwelcome pains and even Levi’s shoulders that had not done much but tense up as he held on to Hange, were starting to hurt.

“You tired?” She asked in between bites of her riceball.

“I’m having fun.”

“That wasn’t the question,” Hange retorted.

“Aren’t you supposed to be tired, you were pretty much supporting me the whole time.”

Hange rolled her shoulders. “I still workout in between studies. Besides I told you, you’re light.” she said.

But Levi did notice in her flushed face and the way she had paused a few times in between sentences, she was tired. Tired but still very much enjoying it. Tired but still very much unsatisfied.

And he saw it in the way she would sneak glances out the window as if…

“You really wanna climb the hill, don’t you?”

Hange bit her lip, quickly crumpling the empty wrapper of the rice ball. As if that could have been enough to stave whatever conflicted feelings seemed to be boiling inside her.

“It’s fine, okay. You can leave me here first.”

“But… I wanna see that view with you.” Hange said. “We could wait until the summer, when your leg is fully healed. Maybe we could ask Erwin about it…”

“Summer is a long time from now and before that, you’re gonna have to finish your thesis, then you’re gonna have to defend it. Who knows how quickly things will change by then,”

Hange avoided his gaze, instead focusing on the crumpled plastic wrapper in front of her and she held it in her hands like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“Hange, I can wait here you know.” Levi pressed. “I’ve flown more than enough times to be satisfied for a lifetime. You don’t have to wait for me. Just show me the way next summer.”

Hange required more prodding after that. But Levi had figured out the secret to it already. All he had to do was subtly lead her to the spot where the path quickly bent upwards, to the steep incline, so steep that Levi couldn’t completely get a view of what lay beyond, even with his head bent back it hurt.

Hange’s face though was a little more flushed and there was a sparkle in her eyes. She was almost there.

Levi just had to push her a little closer. “It might get cold up there.” He removed his hoodie and handed it to her. “I’ll be waiting inside the resthouse so I’ll keep warm there. Just come back there after you’re satisfied.”

Hange gave him a look of surprise which quickly softened into something that resembled more a puppy that was given their first treat. “Levi….” She quickly put the hoodie on and for a good few seconds, Levi was struggling to find the next words to say.

‘That shade of green… it looks good on you too,” Levi managed to say.

“This is the survey corps green after all right?” Hange said, giving him the most cheeky expression.

“Yes. And it looks good on you, Commander Hange Zoe.” It could have been instinct or it could have been something else. But maybe along the way, he had just gotten used to pushing and prodding at her, the way she had done to him many times before.

He found himself pressing his left fist into her heart, focusing then on the way the fingers on his left hand curled clumsily into a fist. He was right handed, yet it was his left hand that fought for ground on her chest.

“Climb to your heart’s content.”

Dedicate your heart.

As Hange looked up at the steep hill above her, the afternoon sun chose that moment to shine on her, and Levi made out the sweat in her brow.

“To your heart’s content? That’s a pretty cheesy line Levi.”

That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say that.

And before Levi could even say a last goodbye, beg her to come back, she turned her back to him.

He could have called out to her, he was sure of it. But then, as he watched her climb, he could only stand frozen.

At first, he wanted to attribute it to the chill. He was only wearing one thin sweater, one layer, in almost sub zero temperatures. But the biting cold was the last thing on his mind.

Why didn’t you run after her?

The phantom pains came back. And that time, they weren’t pale in comparison to the rest of the sensations. They took over, as if the view in front of him then had breathed new life into those wounds.

Why couldn’t I run after her?

His whole body ached. His legs were bruised, his stomach was eating him inside out. HIs fingers burned and his face stung of wounds.

And he forced himself to look above him as Hange continued to climb. The sun was streaming right into his face, and even as his eyes burned at such a sight, Levi couldn’t look away.

It was as if the afternoon sun was eating her up, every color in her, the shadows consumed her. And soon, the only thing he could see was a black silhouette, that only got smaller and smaller the longer he looked.

See you later, Hange.

“And then what happened?” Levi muttered to himself, as if saying it out loud would make the dreams and the memories come at him faster.

They weren’t feeling obedient at all that day though.

“What happened to Hange?” He pressed, his voice a little louder than a second ago.

Levi forced himself to look back up as if searching for some sort of an answer in the view in front of him then. The memories and dreams after all had a tendency of washing over him after he fixates on the subject a little longer than necessary.

It never came though and soon enough, her silhouette was small enough to be fully covered by his pinky finger as he reached his hand out and raised his hand over his face.

And he was starting to get a little more desperate. If he couldn’t call out to those memories, he could call out to her, right?

“Hange!” Can you hear me? The memories couldn’t have ended there.

The last view of her was a silhouette, a black silhouette, much farther and much smaller than the one in front of him then. But at that moment, she felt far, completely out of reach.

Levi’s throat burned, his vision blurred as if trying to get rid of even that remnant of view.

Around that time, time stopped. Everything started to dissolve into conglomerations of sights and sounds. He was starting to even have trouble processing the rustling of the leaves and even the voices in the background.

And as he tried to take control of his body then, with the smaller motions, Levi soon started to realize he wasn’t even in control of his fingers, his hands or his legs. He moved the goalposts, attempting to at least take control of breaths, the rhythm as he swallowed that lump in his throat.

His body though was a spiteful thing. As soon as he became aware of those small motions though, it deprived him of those comforts as well.

And Levi soon found himself struggling to breathe, struggling to swallow.

Soon, he was struggling to do anything to remind himself that his body was still his to control.

“Hey, sir are you okay?”

What…

“Hey Levi… Look at me?”

Hange… When did you get here?

Hange’s eyes were fixed on his. And she narrowed her eyes and furrowed her brows as if deep in thought. And in her eyes he saw a glimmer of something else. Concern?

Soon enough, a shadow went over his right eye and before Levi could recoil, it was gone. But the shadow left the cool feeling of something wet under his eyes.

Wet...Tears?

Hange spoke up only confirming it. “Levi… Why are you crying?”

#levihan #levihan fanfiction #fanfic

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miraculousmarifan · 3 years

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Felinette Month 2020 - Day 19: Fallen Angel

Happy @felinettenovember! Can you guys guess what prompts I spend more than one day writing? I almost decided to try drawing the akumatized Felix before remembering that I haven’t drawn in nearly 10 years (maybe I would be better off painting it?) and wasn’t really good at people before that point... So I did this instead!

Almost 1900 words and if requested, this could have a continuation for some resolution later this year or early next year and/or potentially a piece of art to try showing Felix as an akuma and/or the object that inspired his form

Felix was close to flipping tables. Marinette had to be an angel from above with how she was handling being bullied by this Lila girl. How was it that even after the school was notified that Lila supposedly had a disease that made her compulsively lie but wasn’t antisocial personality disorder (?), the teacher refused to step in and help one of her star pupils? He shouldn’t be surprised. This was the same teacher that condoned Chloe’s defacing of Marinette’s present to count as them working together on it, even though Marinette had put actual effort into it. This was the same teacher that tried to convince Marinette to be a doormat, in the name of “setting a good example,” as though that has truly changed people that benefit from wronging others.

What he really couldn’t understand was how her friends weren’t more cautious about the liar. She had temporarily gotten Marinette expelled by claiming that she had not only cheated on a mock test, but also stolen the liar’s necklace, AND pushing the witch down the stairs. The class didn’t believe that it sounded like Marinette and YET after Marinette is returned due to the supposed uncontrollable lying diagnosis, they don’t question Lila's integrity? He couldn’t quite fathom why they wouldn’t take the things she said with a grain of salt after that very public and obvious set of lies, especially about Marinette.

And yet, here he was. Standing outside the classroom, waiting for a phone call from his driver, when he overhears the liar whispering to a few girls from the class. Marinette had been gone for an appointment the last period of school and apparently that wasn’t enough for Lila. He heard Alya exclaim, “That doesn’t really sound like Marinette…” and then a sad reply along the lines of how she knew Marinette was friends with all them but she couldn’t believe Marinette said that to her and just wanted to understand why by asking their closest friends. So on so on. Even with her verbalized doubt, it was clear from the tone she used that Alya believed it possible that Marinette had something to Lila, even if it wasn’t as severe as the liar had made it out to be. Felix didn’t need to be any closer to smell the fake crap Lila was spreading. He was sure it would have smelled over a mile away.

Rose exclaimed how she couldn’t believe how much Marinette was starting to act like Chloe and how they really needed to shake Marinette out of this. Alya volunteered to talk to her about it and encouraged them not to do anything crazy before then. It was the first time Felix felt a decent amount of respect towards Alya. Apparently she is starting to learn not to jump immediately to conclusions when it comes to Lila and Marinette. Unfortunately their other friends hadn’t gotten that much insight from the previous incidents and believed that Lila wouldn’t possibly exaggerate or make up anything and cause drama unnecessarily. Alya told the group that she had texted the girl and was going to head over to their place to hang out later that night.

Alya left, muttering how it sounded too extreme to be what Marinette had actually said. Felix had to give it to her, even if she had too much faith in the Italian, it was nice to see she wouldn’t fully discount her friend without any true evidence. Unfortunately with Alya’s departure, the voice of reason had left these girls and they were left with a snake. Felix decided to move slightly closer, just to keep an ear out for danger.

“I don’t think having a talk with her is really going to change Marinette’s mind. I mean she already knows about my health conditions and she’d rather discriminate against me than admit that I’m just trying to be friends. I reached out in good faith, painting her a picture, and she destroyed it and told me we could never be friends. It was just shockingly mean! She’s so nice to you guys so I thought this would help, especially since we like so much of the same stuff! I can’t help it if Adrien rejected her for me!”

Felix wanted to gag at that reasoning again. Marinette had worked to move on from Adrien long ago and especially hard when he had started dating Kagami over a year ago. She even started having tea and snacks with his girlfriend at least once a month, since Kagami didn’t get out much and Marinette didn’t want her to feel left out. As far as Felix knew, Marinette had long since given up on Adrien and was more focused on her personal projects than on boys, something her friends should have known by now.

“We know it’s not your fault and she should realize that too!” Rose tried to cheer up Lila.

“It’s so hard to imagine her destroying someone else’s art when she preaches about how people shouldn’t touch other’s work! Plus she has to know how much that sucks, after Chloe ruined her present for Ms. Bustier a few years ago…” Alix sounded angry enough to act impulsively and it didn’t sit well with Felix.

“To me, it just doesn’t seem like talking to her is going to be enough for her to really think about her actions, but you guys know her the best!” Lila managed to get a small amount of wavering into her voice, to convey hesitant worry and unsuccessfully attempted optimism through her small shrug. Felix may have thought that some of her lies should be relatively easy to dismiss but he had to admit that sometimes she could be a good actress.

“If we left her a message along with doing something, she wouldn’t ignore it right? Especially if she knows that if she ever does something like that again, we won’t stay friends with her…” Alix suggested. Felix felt his stomach sink. This was going bad but he couldn’t just walk in there right? He waited a moment longer to hear them start planning how they were going to ruin Marinette’s personal art project that she had been working on during her study hall, as it was sitting in a drying area of the art room. He had enough information to go talk to Damocles about what he had heard.

After hearing Felix’s concerns and hearing his stern insistence that this was actually at risk of happening, not just girl’s venting, Damocles accompanied him to the art room to check into the security of the projects inside. By the time the pair arrived though, they were too late. Nobody was in the room anymore, however Marinette’s project was beyond repair.

She had sculpted a human-like angel with arms raised with peace and joy captured remarkably on its face, an orb in its hands being presented to the sky like a holy gift. The wings had been formed into individual feathers and Marinette had just put the first layer of paint on it that day. The base color of the wings was a lovely shade of light pink, her dress had the first layer of white, the skin left a gray tone, with a small amount of darker gray and lighter gray added to certain areas to imitate how light would fall if emitted from the orb. The orb had a strange tone of light blue-green for the base. He had been enthusiastically anticipating her final painting work since she had finished the sculpting step.

Now the angel was missing a wing, the orb that had barely rested on the carved palms was separated from the hands, and the arms were no longer connected. He picked up the body of the statue gently before looking up at Damocles sadly.

“It’s too bad we didn’t get here sooner. I guess we will just have to check the school’s cameras to figure out who did this.” Damocles took a step towards the stand that the statue had previously been set on, picked up the note left on it, and read it out loud.

“‘This is for ruining Lila’s painting. You should’ve accepted her peace offering rather than blaming her for Adrien’s rejection and if you keep acting like this, you won’t have any more friends here.’--” he cleared his throat in displeased surprise, “-- I will need to take this note as evidence in this. Also, we should probably take some pictures of the damages before getting this cleaned up.”

Felix helped set the pieces of the statue on the table next to each other before the principal took out his cell phone and snapped a quick picture of that and of the note. Before the man could leave, Felix volunteered to clean up the classroom as he was sure Marinette would still want the pieces. He was also sure that Damocles would actually proceed with this investigation due to his involvement and firmness regarding the need to supply a punishment. While the punishment would not be sufficient, there would at least be some record of this incident.

Before sweeping up the tiny pieces that he didn’t expect her to care about, he sat down in a chair and held the body of the statue. His fingers ran over the one remaining wing despite the paint smearing on his skin, feeling the texture his classmate had managed for the feathers. It was an amazing work that would be difficult to replicate, if Marinette even decided it was worth doing again. Part of him hoped she would redo the remarkable piece. He felt anger bubbling just below the surface of his sadness, anger that the girls that were supposedly her friends would do this. Anger that their school was not secure for her. Anger that he wasn’t able to protect her, even having heard the plans. Grief over being too slow to protect her. Crushing sadness that she couldn’t trust her classmates, her supposed friends, to even ask her about a situation before trusting another’s words about her. Someone that had very publicly lied to get her suspended just the last school year. He was so busy with his thoughts and the statue that he missed the purple butterfly coming towards him until it settled into the statue.

“Hello Ange Déchu. I am Hawk Moth. The people around you pass judgement on the innocent and work on behalf of the wicked. It must be frustrating to watch them work to break the people you care about. I will give you the power to understand people’s intentions and apply your chosen consequences on them so you can protect the ones you love. In exchange you would give me Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculous.”

In this akumatized form, he could not only protect Marinette but also help her get revenge on the manipulative witch. She would be his queen, his direction, and she would be able to decide how she wanted to apply justice.

“Yes Hawk Moth. I will deal out Marinette’s justice and get the miraculous for you.” The akumatized Felix, called Fallen Angel, unfurled his black wings and pushed off the ground to fly to Marinette’s side. He would protect her first and foremost. Then they would deal with the witch and her flying monkeys however she saw fit.

#felinette month 2020 #felinette month #akumatized felix #lila salt #alya sort of redeemed?#some bustier salt #damocles actually does SOMETHING #felinette #miraculous ladybug

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olivinesea · 3 years

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In the Golden Dark, pt. 2

Part 1

a/n: This was already pretty much done so here you go. These parts are all rather short but that can be nice right? ~1.6k

i can’t concentrate if i keep seeing your face showing up in tea leaves lit up on my tv i can’t stand up straight under your gravity so i lay awake with my eyes closed

“Did you know 12% of people dream in black and white?”

“Wha-what?” Hotch groggily looked at the time on his phone. He had answered it blindly, autopilot kicking in to attend to the buzzing beside him on the couch. He blinked again and brought the phone back to his ear to hear Spencer’s voice more clearly.

“Yeah! It used to be a lot more when television was only in black and white but now that’s shifted obviously. Elderly people are still a lot more likely to have dreams that are—“

“Spencer,” Hotch interrupted the way the words were beginning to tumble out. When he was met with an abrupt silence he realized he didn’t have a follow up, he just needed a moment to breathe. To take in the dark living room, the flickering light of the television, its muted colors and grainy film showing a syndicated rerun, the kind only played in the middle of the night or the middle of the day, times when no productive person was meant to be watching. Something soft in its age, he found it comforting to put it on when he couldn’t sleep, woken again by nightmares that some monster had found their way to Haley and Jack. That they were suffering and he didn’t even know.

On the other end of the line, Spencer held his breath. He had been nervous about making the call, he wasn’t sure if it was too intrusive, too far across the boundaries they normally worked within. It wasn’t that he was worried about waking Hotch, he knew the other man was already awake. Even before they had started talking more, casually sharing details about the time they spent away from the office, it was obvious that Hotch did not sleep like a normal person. It was something else that they shared.

Seemingly endless minutes passed without another word from either man and his fear that he’d made a mistake grew. He told himself that Hotch was not pleased with the interruption. That he was being too assuming—why would Hotch be interested in anything he had to say at three in the morning? He’d called spurred on by the acute need to share a thought and, though he wasn’t totally conscious of it, a wish to hear that comforting voice, maybe even a quiet chuckle. He had smiled imagining that gentle sound, only he hadn’t realized it, the corners of his mouth moving without informing the rest of his mind. He touched his lips now with cold fingertips, running them over the dry skin, oblivious to the way his jaw clenched.

The silence between them hung like a bridge. There was a moment where both of them looked out at their respective living rooms, mentally steeling themselves to take a step and hope the other would meet them. Hope that they wouldn’t find themselves suspended over the water, alone as ever.

“I’m sorry for calling so late,” Spencer sounded so remorseful Hotch felt guilty immediately. He hadn’t meant cause him any anxiety with his long silence, he was just trying his best to gather his thoughts. To make sense of what he meant to do.

“It’s ok, really, I—“ Hotch hesitated, unsure how much detail to go into, how much reassurance was the right amount. He felt unreasonably awkward suddenly and twitched his fingers in irritation, “I wasn’t really sleeping anyway.”

“Really?” Spencer scrunched his eyes up, disliking the eagerness bleeding from his voice. He couldn’t help it though, the prospect of having the other man’s attention, even if it was only his voice reflecting from a satellite, knowing that Hotch was listening made him feel more secure. He’d spent too many restless nights pacing his apartment, starting and abandoning tasks in attempts to distract himself from the way the night was pressing uncomfortably close, threatening to overtake his mind. To have a friend to talk to, to reflect back his own reality, was a gift he could barely believe he deserved.

Hotch grunted as he adjusted himself on the couch cushions, supporting the back of his head on the pillows, resting the phone between his shoulder and ear. With his free hand he pulled up the blanket that had tangled at his feet. “Wide awake,” he said dryly. “What were you saying about dreams?”

Spencer’s smile was so big Hotch could hear it through the phone as the man stumbled ahead with the details of some completely unnecessary study. Hotch wanted to ask what had led to him reading such a thing but he was enjoying the happy way Spencer was running through all the new material he’d learned. He adored listening to Spencer speak, how he sometimes stopped short when remembering a related detail and how there’d be a pause while he took a split second to make the choice whether to jump to the new train of thought. Hotch smiled to himself and was pleased enough to offer hums of interest at inflection points. He let his eyes wander back to the television, as the title credits of another episode of Bonanza played across the screen, the pale wheat and horses and cowboys, already a distant fantasy in the 1960s, ancient history by today’s standards. His eyes fell half closed as he continued to listen to Reid’s voice.

“And, they just published a new study about how sleep deprivation decreases the body’s pain tolerance.”

Hotch snorted softly at this. “They really had to get a bunch of scientists together to figure that out? Someone paid for that?”

“Well it is always important to gather data and scientific evidence for these types of things. Anecdotal testimony won’t lead to any developments in the care for conditions like chronic pain,” Reid paused when he heard more quiet laughter from Aaron. He grinned.

“Do you want to hear something really crazy? They’ve found a connection between a person’s favorite sleeping position and their personality. Can you imagine!”

“Hmmph,” Hotch sank deeper into the cushions, settling in for whatever came next.

The calls became as regular as the midnight pancakes. Spencer would call with some piece of trivia, every night a new topic. He had a seemingly endless well of knowledge to draw on. In truth he spent the day trying to think of new ideas to share, new information he thought Hotch would appreciate. For no reason other than his own private satisfaction, he grouped topics thematically. This week they were going to be talking about space.

Now Hotch was ready, drowsy but checking his phone every few minutes to see if he’d somehow missed it ringing. He was looking at it yet again when it buzzed. He stared at the screen for a moment before answering, letting the name that flashed send a small thrill up his spine. He was not sure how it’d happened but he had come to rely on these calls. They still hadn’t discussed it, hadn’t acknowledged what this extracurricular time spent together might mean. They were simply seeking comfort, not questioning how this might be perceived outside these invisible moments.

“Hey Spence,” he barely got the words out before Spencer launched into that night’s prepared curiosities.

“Did you know most of the visible stars are actually multiple star systems? The singular stars are so much harder to see that astronomers used to believe that it was fairly uncommon to find a singular star like our sun.They hypothesized this was a contributing factor to why we hadn’t found evidence of extraterrestrial life. It is much harder for a planet to have the stability necessary for a habitable atmosphere with the potential fluctuations of a binary star system. Without as many single stars it made sense that it was exceedingly unlikely for life to form outside of our solar system.”

“I think it’d be nice,” Hotch murmured, not really thinking about what he was saying.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, ah,” Hotch stammered, a little embarrassed to have the comment acknowledged. He felt his neck growing warm as he tried to make out a reply. “Well, having two suns. I think it could be nice."  “Why?” Spencer was genuinely curious.

“Um, I guess, I imagine it would be warmer for one,” he paused before adding on, waiting to see what Spencer’s reaction might be. He could almost hear the wheels of his mind turning with all the reasons Hotch’s logic was faulty. He hurried on before he became too self-conscious to finish his thought. “And, I’ve just never really liked the night, all the darkness. Maybe with two suns we could have a little more light in the world.”

Instead of responding, Spencer remained quiet, surprised by this uncharacteristically whimsical thought. Hotch could feel his whole neck had turned red, along with the warming tips of his ears.

“I—I don’t really like the night either,” he tried to sympathize. “It can feel…overwhelming.”

They sat for a moment, not sure where to take this or how the facts had turned into feelings.

“I’m happy I have you to talk to though.”

It was simple, but it was true and sweet and Hotch smiled, closing his eyes to better absorb the words.

“I’m happy too, Spencer.”

Now they were both blushing, the depth of meaning behind these brief statements readily apparent. For a moment, feeling the heat dancing across his face, Hotch wondered if this wasn’t a mistake. Maybe he was allowing things to become something irresponsible, something he couldn’t so easily walk back. He pictured Spencer, sitting across from him, animated and full of life, pulling further away from the shadows that teased around the edges. It didn’t matter, he decided. It didn’t matter what this was, only that they had found a hand to hold through the night.

“So, what else have you got for me?”

~Part 3~

#Criminal Minds #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #hotchreid #fluff

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bluebirdsbluebells · 4 years

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You Get What You Get - part one

Summary: One mistake. One little mistake. That was all it took for everything to suddenly flip. You knew that you should’ve stayed in that night, and you were right from the beginning. You should’ve never let the blonde from the beach walk you home, you were paying the price for it.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader (Topper x reader too but it’s not romanticized like at all)

Words: 4.6k

Warnings: swearing, angst, Topper being a control biatch, fighting

My masterlist!

A/N: okay so I know that I just started the “Made You Up” series like a week or two ago, but I finished Outer Banks and I’ve seen a lot of really great fics on here, so I decided to write one of my own! I haven’t seen many on here where the Obx crew are actually going to school, so I thought that I would incorporate that into it heavily. It’s going to take a little bit for JJ and Y/N to kind of… get familiar with each other so please be patient; this chapter was just more about introducing Y/N and a snippet of her life. Hope you guys enjoy it! My writing is still a little rusty…

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Seven times. That’s how many times he had asked you. Seven times. Topper wouldn’t quit it. Over and over and over, and by the fifth time you were starting to get a little peeved. It wasn’t that you didn’t like partying, but you had schoolwork to do. Loads and loads of schoolwork, and the deadline was Sunday night. That was the next day. You didn’t have time to follow Topper and his crazy ass friends to some kegger on the beach; grinding down on the work was the only thing that mattered to you. All you needed was a set of good headphones, a big glass of ice water, some chips and salsa, and you would be set for the night.

But Topper just wasn’t letting up.

“Please Y/N?” He begged, bringing his hands up to your shoulders. You groaned under your breath as you stepped back. His hands slid down your arms, and then they fell to his side. “Please?”

“Topper,” you sighed heavily. “We’ve been over this. Last week I had two overdue assignments. I don’t want Mrs. Markey to-”

“You’ll have plenty of time to get them finished tomorrow, okay?” He pleaded, but you just shook your head, sinking down in front of your desk. You had left the curtains open, and in the horizon you could see the sun was beginning to set. It would be only a matter of time before it would be too late to head out. Surely Topper would give up at some point, but then again he was a pretty stubborn guy. Seven months together and he had proved that to you thoroughly.

“Topper, I’m serious,” you said, shaking your head at him again. His shoulders sank as he stared at you, and then he glanced to the side as if he was trying to keep it together. You knew that he was upset, but you also knew that you couldn’t just leave.

School was your top priority. It was your junior year after all; the hardest grade so far. That was what everyone had told you when you were still a sophomore, and boy were they ever right. You had thought that the tenth grade was tough, but junior year had really shown you every trick it had up its sleeve. Assignments due almost every weekend, tests and quizzes nearly every week, endless amounts of studying and review, countless flashcards to be made… you just couldn’t keep up. But with your parents being on the wealthier side, you knew that you had to try and make them proud by creating a solid future for yourself. Nowadays it seemed like grades were the only way to really get their attention. It wasn’t their fault -- they were busy people -- but over time it had taken a little bit of a toll on you.

“Y/N,” Topper started again. “I just don’t think this is very fair.”

“Fair?” You asked, craning your neck around to give him a look. “I have grades that I need to keep up with Topper.”

“You have a ninety-five average, you’ll be fine,” he answered shortly, his head dropping slightly to the side as he looked at you. You could see the tense flex of his jaw when he spoke.

“It took a lot of work to get where I am,” you replied, turning back to the books and papers in front of you. With your thumb you pulled open your laptop and punched in your password, but just as you were about to begin on your first assignment the screen was slammed shut.

“Hey!” You yelled, looking up at Topper with a glare.

“It’s one night,” Topper said, his brows drawing together. “Come on.” “I said no.” “You’re being stubborn, Y/N. I only want what’s best for you, okay? And going out to have a little fun would be good for you.” You frowned at him. “Good for me?” “You haven’t been out in ages. I’m just trying to look out for you! I want to make sure that you keep up your social life.” “My social life?”

“You haven’t gone out with me in over three weeks.” Topper stared down at you hardly, and you felt your shoulders sag. It was true, you hadn’t been out with him in ages, but to be fair you had been busy with volunteering and working and school. There wasn’t much time for anything else.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t.” “Do you not like spending time with me anymore?” Topper asked, and your jaw dropped open with shock at the accusation.

“No! That’s not it! I said that I was busy with-” “I think you’re putting school before me.” You exhaled slowly, trying to control the emotions that you were feeling. Frustration was slowly bubbly up inside of you. He just didn’t get it. His parents would probably pass everything down to him. He probably wouldn’t have to work a day in his life. Even though your parents were ‘rich’ they weren’t making things easy for you. They had made it very clear that if you wanted something, you would have to work for it just like everyone else. In a way you admired them, because you knew how hard they worked to get where they were too.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea tonight, that’s all. If it was any other night, I would’ve gone. I’m sorry Topper.”

He rolled his tongue along his teeth, then let out a snort of a laugh. “You say that every fucking time. If you don’t want to be with me anymore, just tell me. In order to be in a relationship you kind of need to see the other person.”

There was an angry pit that was beginning to form in your stomach, and then all of a sudden you were on your feet, staring up at Topper with frustration and guilt. “Fine!” You snapped. “I’ll go.”

You hated giving Topper the satisfaction that he had won you over yet again, but you knew that if you didn’t play the good girlfriend role, the night would be a whole hell of a lot worse. You didn’t have much of a choice except to climb into the backseat of Rafe’s fucking whatever kind of new car -- BMW most likely -- that he had and plaster on a fake grin.

It seemed like the ignored homework was already starting to have its effect on you, and you could feel the weight as you stepped out of the car and out onto the sand. You didn’t know where Rafe parked it, but you knew that you were absolutely not going home with him. You didn’t mind plenty of things, but drinking and driving was one that you just couldn’t condone.

“Oh fuck yeah!” Topper yelled as he spotted the roaring fire. His hand instantly snaked its way around your waist, and you were pulled tightly against his side as you headed towards the beach, following the sounds of the laughter, music and shouting.

You were always shocked that these kinds of things rarely got shut down. They were loud, messy and at least one fight always broke out. Normally between a Kook and a Pogue, but sometimes it was just playful banter between friends that turned into something else very quickly. Keggers were just wild in general. You didn’t hate them, but you could think of a few different preferred ways to spend your evenings, your homework being one of them.

“Topper?” You heard a voice from behind you, and Topper spun around, causing you to be dragged along as well. You were met with the grin of Kelce, one of Topper’s other friends. Kelce wasn’t as bad as Rafe, but he wasn’t fantastic either. None of Topper’s friends were anything special, but you would never dare to say anything.

“Kelce,” Topper greeted under his breath, as if to say ‘you son of a bitch’. “Knew you’d be around here.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Kelce replied, slapping Topper on the back. Your boyfriend's grip loosened on you, and you looked around, trying to see if you could spot any more familiar faces. Your two best friends -- Emerson and Scarlett -- had said that they were probably going to hit the kegger, but it was unlikely that you would spot them. The darkness was taking over the place quickly, and even with the roaring fire it was tough to make out exact faces.

You were a little tense at the beginning of the night, mostly because of Topper’s friends, but as soon as you got a beer in your hand you loosened up a little. Topper and you even danced a little bit, which made you laugh a little more than you thought it would, but the moment was quickly ruined when Rafe pulled Topper away, saying that he needed to show him something. After getting yourself another beer, you followed absentmindedly, and the sight that you were met with was one that you didn’t think you’d see. “What are you doing?” You asked Topper as he pressed his nose down to the hood of some random parked car. Coke. Cocaine. He was doing drugs, right there in front of you. “You want some?” Rafe asked, raising one brow as you stared at the two boys. You glared at Rafe, then looked back at Topper, who wiped his nose quickly before rocking back on his heels. He hooted out, and Rafe began to grin as he slapped his back, congratulating him. You shook your head at the two of them, feeling a pit starting to grow in your stomach. “You dragged me all the way out here just so that you could ditch to do drugs?” You asked, and your words were cold, but they were also laced with the slightest hint of disappointment. It wasn’t anything that you hadn’t expected from Topper, but it still was disheartening to see.

You had never done anything other than smoked weed, and you hadn’t planned on doing anything worse than that.

Topper seemed to snap out of his excited state, and he narrowed his eyes at you. “You didn’t have to follow us.”

You snorted. “I meant to the kegger, not here. Jesus Topper.”

Rafe and him exchanged glances, and then Rafe shook his head at you.

“Let the boy do what he wants, would you?” Rafe scoffed, and the comment made you tense up. Oh, how you wished that Topper would let you do what you wanted. Why was it always about him?

“I’m gonna go,” you mumbled, backing away slowly, and Topper rolled his eyes at you, a laugh escaping from his lips.

“Oh don’t be so uptight Y/N!” He yelled, but you had already turned and were headed back to the party. You didn’t really want to talk to anyone, mostly because the chances of it being worth your time were slim to none, so you started towards the water. The amount of people dwindled the closer you got to the ocean, and you were grateful for that; just a few couples making out here and there, but it wasn’t an issue to you. It was more peaceful with the waves and the moon -- which was only partially hidden behind a cloud.

You sank down in the sand, liking the way its coolness grazed your legs. You were definitely buzzed from the beers and shots that you had taken, but you weren’t bad enough that you couldn’t make it home. You knew you would be fine.

“Shit!” Someone cursed behind you, and you turned your neck, frowning slightly at the racket. A boy was stumbling through the grass, a beer in his hand. It sloshed out of the bottle with every step that he took, and it looked like he was swatting at something… or stumbling over something? You couldn’t really tell. “You okay?” You called, and the boy looked up, his face pinched up as he tried to find the girl who matched the voice. “Shit!” Was his only reply, and then he darted out of the grass, stumbling down the sand and damn near running you over.

“Jesus!” You muttered, scooching away from the boy. He looked around him once, then twice, then his eyes landed on you. He ran one hand through his messy blonde hair as he stared down at you, as if he was trying to see if he recognized you. “What happened?” You asked when he didn’t say anything, and then you looked back towards the grass, trying to see if someone else was there, but you couldn’t spot anyone.

“Well,” the boy started, and then he plopped down beside you, only a few feet away. “I was taking a piss and then I see something moving in the grass. You know what it was?” He glanced over at you, then placed the bottle up to his lips, taking one quick swig before continuing. “Fucking snake.”

Your eyes widened, and you brought a hand up to your mouth.

“No way,” you said, and he nodded, brushing his hair back from his face. You then squinted at him, because he did look familiar. The blonde hair, blue eyes, muscle tee and cargo shorts with scraped up black boots. You recognized him from school. You couldn’t quite remember his name, but you knew it was something short… Joe? No. You shook your head at yourself, and the boy looked back over at you.

“What are you doing out here?” He asked, face scrunching up at you. “Party is back there sweetheart.” He flicked his thumb over his shoulder, and you looked back towards the crowd. Your cheeks got slightly red at the pet name, but you brushed it off.

“Just needed some air,” you replied, shrugging slightly as you wrapped your arms around your knees. “What, the air over there wasn’t good enough?” The boy asked snarkily, and you rolled your eyes at him, glancing over once more. “Funny,” you commented. “Don’t know, I had a lot of homework to do and-”

“Homework?” The boy asked, his eyes widening as his eyebrows shot up. He then clicked his tongue at you, his tongue swiping out over his lower lip. “I wouldn’t be so worried about homework if I were you.”

You rolled your eyes at him again. “You wouldn’t get it.”

“Oh really?” He asked, and then he twisted his body to face yours. “Try me.” You opened your mouth, then closed it again. How would you explain everything? It was just mainly your parents, but it was also you. The pressure that you put on yourself; your need to feel accomplished; your need to feel good at something. All your life you hadn’t really felt like you had a knack at anything. Some people in the obx were good at surfing, or good at fishing or drawing or singing or golfing. You didn’t really have anything like that, so you just always turned to school. Your grades felt validating, and therefore you felt validated. It was a hard situation to explain to a boy that you vaguely recognized, and it wasn’t one that you really talked about.

“I’m waiting,” he said, and then pretended to check an imaginary watch.

“I just like school, that’s all.” You shrugged, trying to play it off. “Parties aren’t really my thing.”

“Don’t get invited much?” The boy teased, and he poked the tip of his boot against your flip flop. You swallowed hardly, shaking your head at him defensively.

“Not true!”

“Oh.” The boy smirked at you, and he placed the bottle in the sand beside him. “That’s the real winner.” “It is not!” You defended, crossing your arms over your chest tightly. “I get invited to plenty of things!” “But don’t like them?” He narrowed his eyes. “Sounds fishy to me sweetheart.” “Don’t call me that,” you snapped, and he only grinned back at you. The flash of his wickedly straight, white teeth seemed to flick a switch inside you, and you suddenly realized where he was from. Rafe’s sister Sarah was dating one of his friends. The friend was John B, and the boy in front of you was JJ. JJ Maybanks. He was one year above you, and you knew he had some classes with Topper because Topper had complained about him before. “Those trashy Pogues,” Topper would say. “I’m going to slaughter them all one day. Especially that fucking JJ.” He was a troublemaker, that was for sure. Always getting kicked out of class or scoring himself a detention. That was when he actually showed up to school. Him and John B used to skip all the time, but ever since John B started dating Sarah he had spontaneously decided that he wanted to better his education. Not for JJ though.

“I recognize you,” you blurted, and JJ cocked his head, a light hum of curiosity escaping his lips. “You’re JJ.”

“Am I?” He replied, wiggling his eyebrows, and you couldn’t help but laugh. Even though you knew that he wasn’t the best kid, you felt comfortable with him all of a sudden. A lot less tense than you had been with Topper and Rafe.

“You’re in senior year.” “Kind of.” He shrugged, and you frowned at him.

“Kind of?” “When I show up,” JJ replied smugly, and then he gave you a quick wink that made a blush creep to your cheeks. “Thought I hadn’t seen you around much,” you answered, and he smirked at you, brushing his blonde hair back out of his eyes.

“So you look for me then? Makes sense sweetheart, I would look for me too.”

“I-” “Now I know you’re walking the halls though…” He shrugged, “maybe I’ll show up more often.” The back of your neck got hot, and you opened and closed your mouth. You probably looked fucking stupid, but you didn’t know what to say back. In the pit of your stomach you felt a tiny flip, and you didn’t know if it was from the alcohol or his response. There was no way that he didn’t know who you were. It was a cocky kind of thing to say, but if Topper knew him, he definitely knew Topper, and if they both knew each other, the chances of JJ knowing you were pretty high. You had never really had a conversation with him before; only ever really seen him in passing, so you weren’t sure, but Topper made it pretty clear to everyone that you were his girl. “I should get going,” you blurted suddenly, and JJ let out a laugh. It was low and rumbled from the back of his throat, and all of a sudden there was a shiver that shot down your spine. You stood up quickly, brushing the sand off of your shorts. JJ stood up too, doing the same to his own clothes.

“I can walk you,” he said, and it was more a statement than a suggestion. “T-that’s okay,” you started, glancing over your shoulder. You had no idea what Topper was doing, but you just prayed that he wouldn’t notice you slipping away. He would most likely bash you about it the next day, but you didn’t care. You had had enough of the kegger anyways.

“No, it’s seriously fine,” JJ replied casually, and he tilted his head at you. “Unless you’re scared?” “Scared of you?” You snorted. “Why would I be?” “Cause I’m a Pogue and you’re a pretty little princess Kook.” You frowned at him, slightly taken aback. There was always banter between the Pogues and the Kooks, but it had never really mattered to you. Of course you should’ve known that it would’ve made a difference to JJ though. Him and his friends were all anti-pogue. Well, that was until it came to Sarah. You really had no idea though.

“Of course,” you replied shortly, rolling your eyes again. “Well, a Kook girl needs to get back to her homework. So if you would please excuse me, I need to get out of here.” “You’re excused.” JJ bowed in front of you, and you let out a short giggle, then bit your lip, trying to hold it back. That was definitely the alcohol. “But I’m coming with you.” “You can’t!” You replied, and you started walking backwards away from him, but he followed, holding his hands up in defense. “But I can,” JJ said, and the right side of his mouth perked up into a lopsided grin. “Literally try and stop me baby. You can’t do it.” The name made your stomach flip, but again you brushed it off. You turned away from him and began walking along the beach, but you could hear him following you; kicking sand around and throwing rocks. “So why were you really hiding?” JJ finally asked after a good ten minutes of silence. You were about another ten minutes from your place. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, tipping your head back to look up at the sky. A few clouds drifted past, but it was mostly clear. A nice night. You wouldn’t be closing the curtains, you knew that for sure.

“I think you do,” JJ answered smugly, and you glanced over at him. He had jogged to catch up with you, and he was running his fingers through his hair as he spoke. “What happened? Your friends ditch you? Had a bad trip? Some crazy bitch try and hit on you?” You laughed. “Yes to the last one. He’s trying to follow me home.” JJ gave you a look to that one, and you let out another laugh, starting to relax again. You were worried that Topper was following you, or that Rafe would drive up in his fucking BMW and just slaughter the two of you, but it was nothing but a worry. Topper probably hadn’t even noticed that you had left, and Rafe was probably too high to even step inside his car. “I’m being serious,” JJ continued. “What happened?” “I’m being serious too! I was having a great time sitting in silence, and then all of a sudden this weirdo-” “Hey!” JJ nudged you lightly, and your skin got warm at his touch. “I’m the one trying to keep the weirdo’s away, alright?” “Alright,” you answered, giving him a bit of a side-eye. He was grinning to himself. “And seriously, I didn’t want to go in the first place. It was time for me to leave.” “Someone must’ve made you go though,” JJ said quietly, and he kicked a rock along the sand. “Topper?” Ah, so he did know.

“Uh yeah,” you mumbled uncomfortably. “He did.”

The houses were beginning to get larger, and you knew that you were getting closer to your place. Fairly soon you would have to tell JJ to leave, just in case Topper or someone was waiting. You just couldn’t risk it.

“There she is!”

Oh fuck.

You spun around to face the road, which was a good fifteen feet away from the beach, but still giving Rafe and Topper the perfect view of you and JJ. You felt your stomach drop to two things. Rafe driving was the first, but the second was the argument you knew would be coming. There was no way Topper would be okay with you walking home with some other guy, especially not JJ. “Topper,” you breathed, and then you turned to JJ, shaking your head at him. “You gotta get out of here.” He frowned at you. “Why? I can take ‘em.” “No!” You said a little too forcefully, and JJ cocked a brow. You heard a car door slam, and turned around to see Topper stumbling around the side of the vehicle. He was heavily under the influence, it didn’t take a genius to see that. You could practically smell the liquor on his breath.

“Who’s that Y/N?” He yelled down at you. He wasn’t even that far away -- maybe ten or fifteen feet -- but you knew that the low lighting mixed with his state was preventing him from seeing anything.

“Your cockblock!” JJ yelled before you could usher him away, and you saw as Topper tilted his head, his face twisting up in confusion.

“JJ? Is that you?” He yelled. “I’ll beat your bitch ass up!” “Oh really?” JJ called back, and he winked at you, sending a new wave through your body. A wave of fear. “If you can take me.” “JJ just walk away please,” you said, holding out your hands to try and steady him, but he was already making his way towards the car. Topper was doing the same; barrelling in your direction, fists clenched.

Even though you saw his arm swing up, you didn’t actually think that Topper would hit JJ. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, but then again it moved so quickly. One minute JJ was beside you, and then the next minute he was ramming his fist into the side of Topper’s face.

“Stop!” You yelled, and your stomach twisted up into several knots at the sound of the bone on bone contact. You rushed up the sand, and then through the grass, wondering what the hell you could do to stop them. Your mind was hazed, and you couldn’t seem to figure out anything, so you just kept yelling. “Topper stop that! JJ get off of him!” You tried to grab Topper’s fist as it swung back, but he was too strong, and it just slammed into JJ’s jaw. You could see the dark liquid that began to drip from his nose, and it made your knees go weak.

“You hit even worse when you’re wasted,” JJ whispered sharply at Topper, and your boyfriend let out an angry grunt, his knee ramming up into JJ’s stomach. You yelped out as JJ doubled over, and Topper jammed his knee into the side of the blonde’s face. “Topper!” You shrieked, and then you sunk to the ground beside JJ, your hands instantly grabbing his shoulders. You tried to get a better look at his face, but he shielded it from you, and you saw the blood that dripped off his chin and onto the grass. It made your stomach churn. “Get away from him Y/N,” Topper said lowly, and he grabbed your bicep, pulling you away from JJ, who was gasping on the ground. You tried to yank your arm out of Topper’s grip, but he only tightened it, his nails digging into your skin. You winced lightly, and he pulled you behind him. “No!” You yelled as Rafe’s arms wrapped around your torso. Your feet lifted from the ground, and you tried to kick back at Rafe, but he was holding onto you tight against his chest.

“Get just in the fucking car,” he muttered, throwing open the back door and trying to force you inside. It wouldn’t have mattered who the victim was in the situation; you hated seeing people hurt, and in that case, JJ was the one that was hurt. You knew that Topper could get angry, but you didn’t expect him to throw punches so openly in front of you. And hard ones too. You should’ve just denied letting JJ come along with you. You should’ve been harsher to him, then maybe he would’ve been okay.

“The fuck you doing with my girl, huh Pogue?” Topper growled, kicking JJ lightly in the side again. You watched as JJ looked over at you, then up at Topper. He sucked in a breath, then spit out the blood that had been collecting in his mouth. “Wow Topper,” JJ replied coldly. “How’d you ever manage to score her? Gave up your life insurance? Forfeit your pension plan? Paid her parents? Or maybe-” “Shut the fuck up!” Topper yelled, ramming his foot into JJ’s side once more before spinning on his heel. Rafe managed to finally get you into the back of the car, and he slammed the door quickly, narrowly missing your fingers.

You watched as Topper stormed around the side of the car, and when he climbed inside you knew that it was over for you.

“Fucking drive,” he spat to Rafe, who whistled lowly under his breath. “Topper I-” “I don’t want to hear it,” he cut you off, malice in his voice. “I can’t fucking believe you.”

You dropped your head, your heart sinking. You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know what to think. It had all happened so fast. And JJ… it was all your fault. You shouldn’t have listened to Topper in the first place. You knew that staying at home was the best option, and you were paying the price for being right.

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