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slashingdisneypasta · 1 year

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Freddy Krueger+Jason Voorhees x Manipulative!Cruel!Fem!Reader || Oneshot

Plot: You’re infamous in this universe (The Leslie Vernon universe. All Slashers exist, they’re kinda like legends/celebrities), for fucking with both Jason Voorhees and Freddy Krueger. One of them just wasn’t enough for you. You needed love and sex (And neither one was going to give you both).

Obviously it all went up in flames when they found out about eachother, and even though nowadays you live in your own self-built prison to protect yourself from their wrath, you retain that it was fun while it lasted.

Long story short though- they find you.

Warnings: Cheating (Reader. Really, reader is terrible 😅 ), almost dacryphilia? (Again, reader. But I wouldn’t put it past Freddy either- just not here), guns (Reader and Freddy), gun wounds (Jason), violence (Reader… ) and attempted murder (Freddy and Jason).

I love writing reader into a terrible person. If you'd like to read more of the reader being evil- I recommend this work! 😈 :

Oneshot: Jennifer Check+Inkubus x EvillerReader- Turned human.

There’s a knock at your door not 15 minutes after you ordered Chinese food, and it makes you suspicious. Watching the door, eyebrows furrowed, and lips pulled taught in a firm line, you think- Your food shouldn’t be here yet… Who the hell is at the door?? After a few moments, they knock again and you swiftly get up off the couch. On your way to the door, you listen out intently for any noises outside, but all you hear is tapping- like someone really impatient is waiting out there.

When you get to the door you rise up to your tip-toes quietly and peak through the little peephole, damning the way your bones creak at the motion.

On your porch is a boy, you realise. Well, a man- but recently a boy. No one you’re interested in, either way… you like a little more, in men. This one’s too plain for your tastes. And on top of that, he’s not carrying a bag of fried rice.

Ugh… You open the door anyway and lean against the frame; Assessing him lazily with bored eyes. “Hello? Can I help you?”

“… Y/N??” The fact that he knows your name has you standing straight again, ready to slam the door in his face. You dont even give DoorDash your real name, and you have as intimate a relationship as you can have with an app, with that one. And he also looks far too pleased to see you. “Y/N L/N??”

“Uh, no, the bitch moved last year.” You attempt to lie, thinking maybe he doesn’t know what you look like. It’s worth a try, anyway. Shrugging, you cross your arms, leaning casually against the doorframe still. “Whore stopped paying her rent, so I had to kick her out. What do you want with the skank?”

“Really?? Cuz you uh, you fit her description to a T. A little older I guess, but- “

WHAT!? “Excuse you??” Older??? You are still hot as hell, thanks very much- “- Uhh, I mean… “Your face is tight as you force a smile against your cheeks, one hand on the doorhandle so as to shut it on the little twirp as soon as possible. “Well I’m not her, so… off you go. Goodluck. Thanks so much for coming by~ … “Not.

Having decided that this less-than-pleasant porch conversation is over, you try to close the door and lock it- but the guy reaches over and puts a hand on it to keep it open. Your jaw drops, surprised at the utter gall, wondering whether you should pepper spray him… when you notice the desperation on his face. It makes you pause, at least, and narrow your eyes. What is this?

“Please, Ma’am. I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Okay now you’re not liking that look in his eye at all. Too excited, too pleased. What does he want?? You’ve had people track you down for all sorts of reasons before. As bait for Jason and Freddy or to sacrifice you to them, as well as to fuck you, to kill you themselves, to interview you, to ask you to kill them (There are some real freaks in this world, you came to learn over the years after what happened), and a million other crazy things that you… well, that you did actually cash in on sometimes, like the guy that wanted you to wear one pair of socks for 3 weeks at a time and then mail them to him for money, and a girl that wanted your old make-up for a good price also- and- what?! You hit hard times! The point is, you don’t like the looks of this guy and your panty-selling days are behind you.

He’s leaning so hard on the door to keep it open that when you abruptly sigh, and let it go, he falls forward into your home and only just manages to catch himself before face-planting into your carpet. “Fine, what do you want? It has been a while since a fan put in the work and found me… maybe I’ll get a laugh out of it.”

“Fan??” Oh, you don’t like the way he says that. Like it’s an utterly insane thought. Narrowing your eyes at him, though, gets him to buck up as he stands up straight again and shakes his head damn quickly. “No no! Yes, I mean, I’m a fan- a huge fan!! I just meant- you’re a goddess, to me. I’m more like a… a devoted. God- this is so exciting- meeting you! Y/N L/N! Wow. You’re just- even more beautiful than the articles say!”

Okay… he’s growing on you. Making up for that ‘older’ comment, before. A little.

You close the door behind him and lock it. Of course, he can still get out- that’s not the point. Your front door just always has to be locked. You learnt that the hard way the year that the Sawyers found you and those inbred freaks tried to take you on Jason’s behalf… Now your door is made of 6 inches of steel- not even that skin mask wearing loser can get through it with that puny chainsaw of his. And it must be locked. “So… what’s your name?”

“Leslie Vernon.” He says it with pride, like you should know it. When you just look at him blankly after, he deflates slightly. “I’m an up-and-comer!”

“… an up-and-comer?” You blink, very confused. What is this strange boy on about…?

“I’m gonna be a Slasher.” Leslie explains, and you just look at him even more dubiously. This one is a few sandwiches short of a picnic, that’s for sure- “One of the big ones. Like Jason and Freddy- I’ve been working hard for a while for it- and its finally gonna happen in a few weeks. Even got a camera crew to document it!! That’s why I’m here actually-” Okay no, you’ve heard enough.

“If you think for one second that I’m gonna be in your little movie, you are out of your damn mind, kid.” Didn’t he see your door? You do not play around with personal safety, here. If ‘Frason’ found you, you would be skinned.

And you have honestly spent too much time spreading honey and avocado and mud across your face with a stick to let it go quite so easy. Ugh, you can feel a headache coming on…

“No no! I was hoping you’d- you’d maybe… know how to find them. Like, how do I get Krueger’s attention?”

“Fishnets always did it for me.” You sigh, rubbing your temples. Through the pain in your brain, you try to think- what to do with this guy? Would anyone miss him if he just disappeared? “Also he’s got this weird thing about pigtails… “

“Where’s crystal lake?”

“Oh, yeah, you just go down Momma’s Boy Lane and then take a short cut through celibacy territory and you’re there.”

“Aww, gimmie something!!” He whines and oh- lord. You could smack him for it. The sound only makes your head feel worse, and its unbelievably obnoxious. This here is why you never had kids! - “You’ve got something I know it. I think they’d be some great colour for the movie, and if you could just, y’know, gimmie a hint- cuz you’re, you know, the Freddy Krueger-Jason Voorhees expert- “

The words stop abruptly when he notices that you’re not really listening, anymore… you’re giggling. The pain turned into delirium pretty quickly when he said their names, and it gets worse fast- turning into raucous laughter, the kind that bends you back and draws tears to your eyes. You’ve got a sweater paw covering your contorted face and muffling the noises but it’s not too helpful making Leslie thinking that you’re any less crazy, really. Which is fine; You are a little crazy. It’s okay; You’ll own it. After all, you earned that crazy. “You want… oh my gosh,” You’re struggling to speak as the cackles start dying down, because they keep bubbling up again when you try to talk. “You want… fuck, sorry sorry!!- Haha!- “

Finally, you manage to calm down, releasing a sigh. Oh, a good laugh is always appreciated - especially in your little, secluded world, - but the fun’s over. “Ahh… Alright, Fanboy.” You suddenly snap, making him jump. It’s cute, you’ll admit, but he’s still not your type. “Tell me if I have this totally wrong, here, but, did you came here to me, knowing how I’m, ya know… notorious, for betraying these Slashers you’re after, and really enjoying it also, which is not a rumour by the way, I really did… to actually ask if I can… introduce you???” Creating a temple with your fingertips together, you raise your brows at him for this next part when he doesn’t deny it. “… Are you out of your mind, kid?”

“I know you know how to get in contact with them. No one knows them better than you, Y/N. You’re the expert- “

“O-kay, that’s really, really getting old.” You roll your eyes, slipping onto the couch again and bringing your knees up to your chest. “First of all I’m more than the girl that made that big bad forest man fall for her, and fucked Freddy Krueger. I also happen to be a great chess player, and my crochets are the bomb.” Sighing, you run a hand through your hair; Bored once again. “Second of all- I’ve got dinner coming and I’m not big on sharing. I know- shocker. So yeah, you should go.”

“I just wanted to- “

“Out.”

“Come on!- “

Ughhhhh- “Did I mention I have 7 rottweilers?”

“Bye.”

“But wait hey-” Before Leslie can make it out the door, you turn back at the last second- and flash a smirk. He stops, looking suspicious. “If you do find them, it’s been a while- so give them my love.”

~ Months Later ~

You knew after you watched that stupid movie of Leslie’s that you were in for trouble. He mentioned you more than once, and your information was in the credits. Now, that probably wasn’t his doing as he supposedly ‘died’, but that didn’t piss you off any less.

Still, you didn’t leave your home. It’s not like Freddy was going to get anywhere near you with the Hypnocil you’ve been constantly half-high on for the last two decades. And you had a good set up where you are!- the whole place is built custom for you, so the walls are built up so strong that Jason couldn’t tear them down even if he came with a bulldozer, the windows are bullet proof, and the latches are military-grade. Not to mention your dogs out there ready to tear any trespasser to pieces and the security system built into every wall and floorboard. If anyone so much as huffed through the mail slot on the front door, you and everyone from here to the nearest Police Station would hear about it.

Plus you own a lotta guns, hidden in some very wacky places. Even if one of them did manage to sneak in, they wouldn’t get anywhere close to you before you created so many holes in them that they would look like Swiss cheese.

Still, though- you knew they would come, at least. Somehow, word of the movie would reach them and they would come for you.

But you’ve never been scared of them before and that was not going to start now. Come on… you ate those boys for breakfast 20 years ago. The thought that you would fear them now is honestly funny.

So when you wake up one night to the sound of metal screeching against metal, you aren’t surprised and you’re not scared- just frustrated. You don’t even open up your eyes, at first, just hoping it was in your head. But you sense eyes on you.

Face smooshed into the duck-feather pillow beneath your head, you continue to pretend to be sleeping… but let your arm fall down the side of your bed. Your fingertips just brush the cold metal of a gun under there, but a large hand encloses around your wrist, and you’re yanked up rapidly into a sitting position. Your eyes are wide for a moment and flicking up Jason’s form, surprised at the sudden attack… before you take a deep breath, set the giant with a stern look, and shake your head; Voice gentle when you speak. Gentler than you’ve ever truly been, except for when you were with Jason. “… Jason. Sweetheart- let me go, I’ll bruise.”

He just tightens his grip, making you almost gasp- but you manage to stop yourself. Close your mouth again, muffle the sound. You don’t like to show weakness.

Especially not in front of your own damn victims.

“Mm… Okay, okay, I get it… “Glaring, and twisting your wrist in his iron grip, you give a little yank of your own- testing his persistence. And your conjoined limbs barely move, so, its safe to say that he is really, quite determined here. Damnit. “… You’re mad… “You go on, through grit teeth. Mostly just buying for time while you give the room a quick comb over. “That’s okay, I would be too…” No sign of Freddy, but that doesn’t mean he’s not here. That sound that woke you up was definitely his calling card. “So, uh- you alone, or?... “You need to know what you’re dealing with here; Your contingency plans are specific.

“You wish he was alone, princess~… “

With that you look around again with a deep frown, quite surprised to hear his voice but not see him at all. What?- Where the hell- While your wrist is stuck in Jason’s giant clenched hand, your field of vision is limited but you lean away from Jason to peak over the other side of the your bed- and-

Immediately freeze. Your own breath catches in your throat, starring down the barrel of your own gun, the one you had been reaching for before Jason caught you, behind which lay a set of familiar, cold eyes and a terrible smirk; Freddy’s finger on the trigger. You didn’t hear the safety click off but that’s not surprising- none of your guns ever have the safety on. “… Cat caught your tongue, bitch??... “

“… Hi, there, Freddy… “You greet carefully, cautiously leaning straight up again as he gets up off the floor slowly, gun still trained on your forehead. Yes, you’re being careful- but you know damn well guns have never been his style, so the chances that he’ll shoot you on purpose are… slim. He may accidentally pull the trigger, though, after he inevitably makes himself laugh like a damn howler monkey. Impulsive, ridiculous idiot that he is.

Still, just like you couldn’t help the softer tone your voice took talking to your Jason- you can’t even hope to fight the urge to raise your free hand like a criminal caught red-handed and give Freddy a smirk. Old habits do die hard, after all. “Wanna play cops and robbers, then?~ “

“In you dreams sweetheart~… “He responds, face rearing in close to yours- he just can’t help himself. And you knew that, waiting for him to get close enough before suddenly reaching up to steal the gun right out his hand and elbow him directly in the face. “Oh!”

Swiftly you then turn to Jason, pointing the gun directly against his forehead. You don’t even hesitate before pulling the trigger, causing the adorable boor to let you go and slowly lean back, not dead but surprised for sure.

“Sorry Jason!” You quickly hop off the bed while the two Slashers are reeling from the injuries, grab a pack of matches from your dresser by the door and start hurrying through the house- socks sliding against the hardwood floor a little. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! I hate that dumb little ‘up-and-comer’, ugh- Oh shit!”

Freddy’s behind you in no time, having recovered from the nose-shot a lot faster than Jason could pick up his giant form off the floor. You slam a couple of doors behind you for him to run into, but only succeed in having him run face-first into the surface the first time. You even fling a vase back at him and drag an armchair into his way Sydney Prescott style, but it only buys you just enough time to stab in the code to your panic room- not enough to get in, though.

… I knew Final Girls were full of shit-

“Not this time- “Freddy growls, non-gloved hand latching onto your arm and twisting it painfully around so you turn to him. But, again, you refuse to show the pain; Instead you just grit your teeth through it, glaring in his face and the alien-green blood dripping out his nose. He’s not phased, though, smirking through his own anger. “You’re not getting away this time, bitch.” While Jason approaches dangerously behind him, machete in-hand and dirty dark-coloured blood painting his mask, Freddy raises a bladed finger to your face.

This is not your first rodeo, though. You are not scared of that diseased old thing. That thing was just foreplay for years. And you certainly aren’t scared of them, either. Freddy goes to say something more, but you raise your gun again, making him back up off you; Hands raised. You roll your eyes. “’Not this time’- what are you? A scooby-doo bad guy? I should-”

While your attention was solely on Freddy, you somehow don’t notice Jason glide by him but then that machete is dug into the wall closest to your head and the behemoth is leaning over you, breathing hard, and your eyes widen under the shadow he casts.

“… Jason.” Your voice actually goes small, under his gaze right then. You hate it, but it does. You actually loved Jason, at one point. Really, you did. Well- as deeply as you would ever be able, to love… anyone… It just wasn’t in you to be all his- or all Freddy’s for that matter though that situation was pretty different to this one.

… But the pain in Jason’s eyes, the frustration and sadness that he’s bleeding not you with those eyes- one wide open and the other still adorably droopy like he desperately needs a good nap, - is all yours. And yeah- you feel a little bit bad.

And a little something else, too. A little something that you thought dissipated in you. The love, you felt.

God, you must be evil. Because that sad look on his face turns you on.

“I… “… Okay. Taking a deep breath, you flick the safety on and tuck your gun into the side of your pyjama pants. He’s not going to listen if you’re holding a gun to his face. Never mind the one you already shot him in the head with. Duh- “Jason, I- “

~ Change of POV ~

“Don’t listen to a fucking word out of that bitch’s mouth, hockey puck- “

The glare Y/N flashes Freddy is downright violent; Vicious and visceral and if he were another man he would’ve backed up. Y/N didn’t often go rabid, but that glare was still jarring- she was always a manipulator. Everything under her control. She saw something she wanted and soon enough it was under her thumb, and even if it got out - like the two Slashers, -, she always had a contingency plan.

She would drag Jason back under her control easy as pie. Then it would be all over for Freddy; For Y/N, Jason would try to take him down like the big nitwitted flunkey he is- like if his dead mommy asked him to.

There was definitely something Freudian going on here, but Freddy would have to taunt the bed-wetter about that some other time.

He can hear Y/N talking to Jason, though, and none of its good. “… I’m so sorry Jason... I really did love you… I- I still- “Oh, the stutter was good, he’d admit. But he had to kill the mood there before it got out of hand. Freddy could already see Jason going soft, for Y/N.

… Luckily, I’m pretty damn good at killing things. A fowl grin spreads across charred features.

“Oh Y/N~ Sorry to interrupt, but remember…~ Ol’ mommy’s boy there’s not the only man around here you’ve begged~ “

#Freddy Krueger and Jason Voorhees x Reader Oneshot #Freddy Krueger x Reader Oneshot #Jason Voorhees x Reader Oneshot #Oneshot #Freddy Krueger and Jason Voorhees x Reader #Freddy Krueger x Reader #Slashers #Slashers x Reader #Jason Voorhees #Freddy Krueger #Leslie Vernon

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gubbles-owo · 5 months

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the oc ask meme,,, urchin, mantis,,

13 & 19 for both,,,, please,,

13. How do they deal with pain (physical or emotional)? Oh Mantis can take one hell of a beating, physically. She may stand at a breathtakingly steep... 152cm tall (on her toes), but true to her real life animal counterpart (the mantis shrimp!), she packs one hell of a punch. Doesn't bruise easily. The real hard hits will still get through to her though. Tries to act all tough but you can clearly see through the act. "Yeah, I'm fine!! ow fuck shit ouch Never felt better!! >:D" Emotional pain... similar response. Seems fairly resilient, but she's not very good at hiding it when something's wrong. Either she'll deny it, or downplay its effects, only admitting with a strong enough confrontation, or an emotional pain too great to bear. Takes a lot to break her. Urchin on the other hand... ho boy. So physical pain. Fun fact, Urchin is ✨ chronically ill! ✨ Just imagine like, hundreds of thousands of little spines all over your body that you can retract at will. Now imagine you don't have much direct control over them, and instead seem to be a more reactionary response of the automatic nervous system-- at least to the best of your knowledge. Now imagine all those little spines are ever so slightly misaligned with where they're supposed to come out! Congratulations, u experience chronic debilitating pain!! So yeah, given the magnitude and agonizing breadth to which their illness pans out, Urchin has some incredible fuckin' pain tolerance. Winces, deals with it in the ways they've learned how to over the years, though it ultimately results in them not getting around much. Mostly solitude, sedentary. Not out of choice, of course. They're afraid of getting too close to anyone else, physically or emotionally, and accidentally harming them with their own stupid sickly spines. Additional pain-- that is, from outside the body-- tends to throw them off kilter, upset the ANS, and resultingly make the internal pain worse. Fun! As for emotional pain... ouhhf... let's just say Urchin has a lot of baggage, and lots of alone time to ruminate on it all :3c 19. How do they connect with the people around them? Love language, how they offer comfort, etc.

Mantis (similarly to Cuttle) loves meeting new folks, but is probably not quiiite as charismatic. Her love language is typically intense/loud, but it can take more subtle forms as well. For example, Shrimps loves challenging those she loves, both in friendly competition and in their own assumptions, in the interest of spurring some sort of growth or new perspective. She will (lightly (for a mantis shrimp)) punch ur shoulder and u will like it. Contrast that with the little things... like, okay, let's not mince words here: Mantis can be absolutely oblivious. Many things tend to sail clean over her head. No thoughts, head empty. However! She will notice little things about you. Your shuffles and posture adjustments. The way you fidget with certain objects. The one or two particular photos or memorabilia tacked to your bedroom wall. Small things that often draw your attention or otherwise indicate where your mind might be at. And often she'll make lil gestures that demonstrate such fine observations. Like "Hey Urchin, I notice you kinda nervously tap your keyboard when you're at your desk, so here's a matching keycap that i affixed to a lil box, so you have something to keep in your pocket when you're elsewhere!" I wonder how she got so selectively observan- autism its definitely the autism On the other hand, Urchin... has an extremely difficult time figuring out just how to connect with those around them. Can I hide in my room? No, we're out of the apartment. Can I run off to some other room where I can close a door, or get some space to myself? No, s-so I really have to stand here around these other people? ...shit. Um. How do interact. Is my presence bothering them. What if I say something rude or insensitive. What if they bring up something upsetting or triggering. How do I get out of here. Fuck. It's no secret that Urchin does not hold themselves in very high regard, so how is it that someone else could love them? They must be manipulating someone in order for them to express such feelings... right? Throughout their life, their presence has ranged from passive lack-of-existence to "burden". They do not know how to properly express love. They do not know how to give comfort. They don't know how to interact with anyone without believing they are causing harm in some way. So how the hell do they communicate with another person when they're slapped in the same room together? Simple: avoidance, social awkwardness, and constant self-doubt. Hope this helps!! :3c

#oc #urchin #mantis #uhh cuttleverse? augh no that sounds absurd #obligatory railgun mention play my game ig #gotta make another oc gaem...#gub #ask

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slightlycrunchy · 1 year

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Written for the @startrekwintergiftexchange for my recipient, @lokilenchen. I adore your art, Lena, and I hope you enjoy mine.

read on ao3

Leonard pounds on the door again.

He stands in the hallway of Deck 5, outside of a very particular room and taps his foot impatiently, blending into the chaos around him hinting of a shift change. Beings of all shapes and sizes rush from their cabins to their assigned posts which—he looks at his holowatch—are set to begin in three Standard minutes.

“Jim, do not make me medical override this, dammit. I’m leaving in ten seconds whether you’re out here or not!” Leonard hears what sounds to be a muffled shout and something heavy hitting the floor. He would have thought the bulkheads were more soundproof than that.

Just as the countdown in his head reaches one, a shock of blue greets Leonard from down around his waist, Jim’s crystal stare colored with mirth as he fumbles with the boot he is failing to zip up.

Jim’s smile is blinding. “Sorry, Bones.”

Hazel eyes roll. “Yeah, I would believe you other than the fact that you do this a few times a week,” he grumbles, turning away to begin walking down the hall and towards the turbolift that hopefully isn’t full of ensigns. Chapel has first watch and Leonard has seemed to make it a habit of late to hang around the bridge for the first portion of Alpha for no other reason than to keep an eye on the accident-prone captain currently trailing behind him. He hears Jim stumble into the wall with a low curse, the final zip of his boot sounding out clearly.

Leonard doesn’t stop to wait. “Three years into this and you’d think the captain would have his shit together.”

Jim catches up to him, breathless. “The captain may have stayed up too late last night and drank too much bourbon on doctor’s orders.”

“Pretty sure I told you to slow down at one point, kid. You should have learned by now not to try to keep up with me,” Leonard smirks.

The turbolift opens to a—thankfully—empty compartment and Jim stands close, shoulder touching Leonard’s own as he huffs a laugh. Leonard feels warm down to his toes, his exasperation little more than a front he wears like a practiced actor would play the role he has chosen. Thing is that Jim’s in on the farce, and that’s half the fun.

“Kid, huh? Haven’t called me that in a while.”

Leonard simply shrugs.

They do this almost every day, trailing through the ship together, a strange ritual Leonard can’t remember the start of since the whole thing makes no sense given sickbay rests on the exact deck they’re vacating. Yet, the thought of not accompanying Jim to the bridge and checking that everything seems fine before he slinks back below decks to slave away in the bowels of the ship (alright, maybe he’s being a bit dramatic) seems counterintuitive. Like he’s fighting instinct and not doing this will end in some sort of disaster. Doesn’t make much sense when Leonard has never been known to be a superstitious man. He has no plans to stop, regardless.

Jim pushes the button that’ll take them to the bridge and then sidles close once more, a comfortable silence blanketing over the compartment. Only the low hum of the lift detracts from it, that and Jim’s breathing. Leonard goes to place his hands firmly behind his back in parade rest but doesn’t hesitate to brush at the skin just over Jim's knuckles as he does so, eliciting a small smile; the ones Leonard is so familiar with, yet guards jealously.

With Jim so close, the smell of him is apparent, notes of warm skin and the cologne he prefers, the synthesized smell of fresh laundry that is—as Spock would say—‘illogical’, but is appreciated all the same coming off of his clothes. And mixed in with it all is…something new.

Leonard sniffs audibly, brows furrowed in thought…recognition. Jim being only slightly shorter puts his hair just at the line of Leonard’s nose and it isn’t long before he’s narrowed in on just where the smell is coming from.

“What is that?” He sniffs again. He turns and takes Jim by the shoulders. “What the hell is that—I know that smell.”

Jim is squirming now, snickering as he tries to twist away from Leonard’s grip, playing up the innocent act with a look on his face that has removed him from many a sketchy situation.

“I don’t know what you mean, Bonesy,” he teases.

“The hell you don't!”

Leonard releases him with a small shove, Jim’s shoulders coming up and shaking with barely suppressed laughter.

Leonard narrows his eyes in suspicion. “How’d you get it?”

“Get what?”

“Those blue eyes won’t fool me, where’d ya get it, Kirk?”

“Ooh, he’s mad.” Jim raises one eyebrow.

Leonard steps back, hands on his hips. He’s not mad, not truly anyway. Mostly it’s confusion that has him acting this way—an act quite unbecoming of a senior medical officer, he can admit. He takes a deep breath. “I’m not and you know it. Where’d you get it, Jim? I’ve been out for months, we haven’t been back to Earth since we left almost two years ago. I’m just confused, is all.”

Jim straightens, using one of the handles to pull himself upright completely, his expression turning serious. “I wondered if you would even recognize it.”

“Funny you think I wouldn’t.”

Jim fingers at his own hair, fixing what has come loose in their tussle only to come away with a small amount of product between his fingers, rubbing forefinger and thumb in circles as a smile grows on his face. “What if I told you I’ve had it for a while?”

Leonard can feel the warmth radiating off of Jim’s body as his captain steps forward, his chest coming to touch Leonard’s own as Jim looks up at him through long lashes. Hands circle around Leonard’s waist, fingers splayed against his spine. He can’t help the way he sinks into it, nor does he want to stop it, no matter they’re about thirty seconds away from the doors opening to a very public bridge. Jim’s arms have been home for a long while now, after all. They’ve both grown up since their academy days but the years have been short, and with their careers—and the uncertainties guaranteed them—Leonard doesn’t like to waste time. His eyes darken.

“Didn’t know you liked my pomade, darlin’.”

With Jim so close, Leonard’s voice is little more than a purr, and he knows that he doesn’t imagine the shiver that runs through Jim at the intimate gesture.

“You know I’ve liked it since day one.”

And yes, he supposes that’s true.

Leonard is lost for a moment in time, then. Like a holovid playing before his very eyes he can see that day, crystal clear in sense memory.

The smell of recycled dormitory air circulates, midmorning sunlight draping across the mess of sheets tangled around Leonard’s legs, the feeling of stretched muscles familiar as he awakes from a most restful night. Well, not all of it had been restful.

He can hear Jim puttering around in the bathroom, the mattress under his palm still warm from where he had been not minutes before. The smell of sex still permeates the air, and Leonard smirks. He’s overcome with a sudden feeling of content, fuzzy and molten all the way to his bones as the thought of hours spent in darkness and pleasure come rushing back.

This is the first time he has ever had Jim. Now that he knows the taste of the confounding man, first his closest friend and now something more, he doesn’t think he can give it up.

That fateful day aboard the shuttle bound for San Francisco had Leonard meeting a twenty-two-year-old delinquent and yet against his better judgment they’d been inseparable ever since. He didn’t even try all that hard to push him away once he realized Jim was determined to stick around. They spent two years getting to know one another amidst Academy regulations shoved down their throats, long nights spent in study turning into longer nights filled with honesty. Jim asks about Georgia and Leonard about Iowa, about parents and mothers and family that feels as far away as the stars they’re so destined to explore. They've been leading up to this moment for a while, gentle touches and Leonard’s incessant worrying over Jim’s health the brackets containing something more that they both have been dancing around.

And then Jim kissed him last night. And Leonard knew they were done playing will-they-won’t-they.

The sink water turns off with a hush and Leonard sits up, dragging his body to the edge of the bed, the sheet barely covering his cock from hanging out as he splays his legs and rests back on his palms. Jim is naked as the day he was born as he exits the bathroom and Leonard has no issue looking his fill.

“Well, good mornin’, sunshine,” Leonard says.

Jim squints, clicking his tongue. “Don’t use that southern charm on me this early, I just got out of that bed, I don’t have time to get back in it.” But by the way he walks across the room to sit beside Leonard shamelessly, drawing close, Leonard knows that’s a lie.

He takes a moment to look at the visage that is James Kirk. Jim folds up his legs and leans forward, that confident grin on his face apparent as Leonard takes in golden skin, scant freckles on slightly summer-burnt shoulders, curving lips that are just this side of dry. As if he can feel Leonard’s gaze like a physical thing, Jim licks at them, blue eyes shuttering into something sensual and tempting, and by the way his mouth quirks up he knows just what he’s doing to one Leonard McCoy.

When they kiss, Leonard thinks he knows what to expect but, as it always seems to be when it comes to Jim, he’s mistaken. Last night had been a well of passion, suppressed desires flowing out of the both of them like a dam set free but in the here and now, Leonard feels his breath catch for an entirely different reason. He feels comfort. Instead of insistent need he only feels a sense of rightness, of finality. As if the meeting of their mouths and bodies had been written a long, long time ago and now that they have given in to the plot, things are going to go right.

Leonard has never felt so right.

It’s the work of a moment for him to lean the rest of the way forward and grasp Jim’s arms, the healthy muscle of his biceps soft and giving beneath doctor’s hands, his supple skin like suede to his touch. Jim hums into his mouth and his tongue darts out to coalesce with Leonard’s own, their breaths coming quicker as Leonard presses Jim into the mattress, hands sliding down to paw at a well-formed chest. Leonard’s tongue is soon to join, dipping down to mouth at a pebbled nipple, Jim arching up beautifully to meet him, his legs parting wider to welcome Leonard closer, their cocks touching in passing. Jim gasps and Leonard smiles against spit-slick skin as sensation, bright and electric, rolls up his spine. Leonard drags his teeth, nipping at flushed skin as Jim wriggles underneath him, the sensation bordering on being too soft. When Leonard makes his way up to a sharp jawline, tonguing at day-old stubble, he’s brought up short.

He buries his nose in the soft hair just behind Jim’s ear, following his hairline upwards into the gentle coif Jim must have created within his short time in the bathroom. Leonard’s eyes narrow and he brings a hand up to muss up the little that Jim had accomplished.

“Hey!” Jim squirms, trying to get out from beneath Leonard’s body even as the doctor doubles down, placing all his weight onto the younger man, the air leaving Jim’s lungs in a huff.

Leonard sniffs again. “And just what is this, sweetheart? Dipping into my stash?”

Jim goes abruptly still. His cock twitches between their stomachs and Leonard smirks. “My hair was a mess, I saw it on the counter—thought, why not? Where’d you get it anyway, the container makes it look homemade.”

“It is.”

The container of pomade is one of a handful Leonard has, picked up from the last time he visited Georgia, a local friend of the family making the mixture from scratch. He’s one of her most loyal customers, or so she says and he chooses to believe her. He’s got credits out the ass, the least he can do is give them to someone who can actually use them when his daily needs are taken care of by Starfleet and they tend to just hang around in his bank account. He buys half a dozen or so and they last him the year. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do about this particular arrangement when they finally leave on a spaceship to the stars—Jim would say he’s going to be ‘grumpy’ about the whole thing. The kid’s probably right.

Bright blue eyes soften incrementally, Jim looking up and down the length of Leonard’s face with blatant tenderness, a soft smile turning up his mouth.

“I wanted to wear some. Smells like you. Always wondered what it was that gave you that special something, I just figured it was some cologne I’d never heard of.”

Leonard runs his fingers through Jim’s hair, fixing what he’d just finished ruining. Jim’s hair will be longer in a few years, but right now it’s barely grown enough to welcome the product with any useful efficiency. Once Leonard has finished, he looks on his work with pride.

Leonard kisses the tip of Jim’s nose, a perhaps uncharacteristic show of affection coming from him but hell, it’s a special occasion. “Suits you. What’s mine is yours now, I’d say. I can buy a few extra next time I’m off home if you think this is gonna be a repeat offense.”

The gentle smile on Jim’s face quickly turns wicked, the gleam in his eye turning predatory. “I can think of something else that’s gonna be a repeat offense right about now–”

And with a burst of power Leonard didn’t know he had, Jim flips them both, two sets of hands and mouths creating heated paths of lust and want, Jim’s loose and welcoming body allowing Leonard entry with little preamble from last night’s activities. Leonard’s cock buries into Jim and still that scent surrounds them both, an omen of something like comfort—like home.

When Jim comes with a shout and Leonard is quick to follow, the warmth in his chest matches that of his core, bursting with more than just fleshly satiation and blinding heat. His heart sings along with his skin, and all he can think of is JimJimJim. Leonard wraps two firm hands around his lover’s heaving back and draws him close when he collapses, spent entirely atop Leonard’s torso. The doctor squeezes firmly. Jim laughs, breathless.

“I’ll take a container of it…if you’re buying.”

Leonard thinks of the simple domesticity two side-by-side pomade bottles can symbolize and he buries a helpless smile into Jim’s shoulder.

“Whatever you want, Jim.”

The memory is vivid, rushing in and gone before a few seconds have passed in real time. Jim still stands against him in the turbolift, the soft hum making its way into his awareness again.

Jim looks at him with a knowing eye. “You thinking of our first time?”

Leonard raises a single eyebrow—sometimes he really hates that Spock has rubbed off on him in certain ways. “The first time, what? That you committed your thieving ways?”

Jim snorts. “Yeah, that first time.” He sighs, drawing away slowly, his hand grasping Leonard’s as they come to stand shoulder to shoulder. “I stashed a couple extra containers away. Would you believe I forgot about them? They were just there, in my duffle at the back of the closet.”

“With the way you pack? Yeah, I can believe it.”

The display screen on the control panel shows they’re coming up on the bridge and Jim drops his hand with a soft lingering of fingertips. It isn’t that the crew doesn’t know of their relationship, neither of them have specifically tried to keep it a secret, but their deep understanding of one another and tendency to yell at each other across the open space of the ship has placed them firmly within an untouchable sphere of ‘we don’t talk about it’—self-imposed by the crew, of course. Leonard assumes this is partly due to Jim’s status as Captain and his own high ranking position, but suspects the rest may be due to the possibility of bodily harm should their relationship become ‘fleet gossip. Leonard will neither confirm nor deny these suppositions. Regardless, as they do every day, both men allow the veil of responsibility to come down between them with a parting glance and as Jim squares his shoulders and lifts his chin minutely, Leonard is at once struck with the changes only a few years have made.

Jim is no longer that impulsive, reckless young man Leonard first fell for and though the memory of him is forever encased in the brightness of nostalgia, Leonard is happy to accept this version of the man he loves, here and now. Though, Jim hasn’t left all of his impetuous spark behind him.

Right before the doors open, the lift slowing, Jim places himself between Leonard and the door with a knowing look in his eye as he bites his lip suggestively.

“I’ll bring them by later. In the meantime, I’ll think of a few highly inappropriate things I want you to do to me as payment for a very special delivery.”

The doors begin to open and as Jim turns, straightening his shirt slightly as he takes a step out, Leonard’s fingers dart forward and give Jim’s ass a little pinch. Jim hardly flinches (professional as always) and with a surreptitious look around the consoles directly by the lift, Leonard knows he got away with it.

Again.

Leonard keeps his face carefully impassive as he whispers just loud enough for Jim to hear, “Wouldn’t expect any less of you, Captain.”

And if every time he passes by Jim and gets a whiff of his own pomade which drags a few ‘inappropriate’ thoughts of his own into his mind, well…no one has to know but himself.

#my writing #slightlytreks #star trek aos #mckirk #star trek #kelvin timeline #star trek fanfiction

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space-writes · 3 months

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For the gemstone asks!

Sapphire: The most upbeat dialog or overall scene in your wip

Rose Quartz: Were any characters cut from the wip? :D

hi kai!

Sapphire: The most upbeat dialog or overall scene in your wip

there’s lots of fun stuff in Valloroth, but I think the most upbeat part might technically be the end, when the dragon is defeated and the gang are sharing a well-earned expensive dinner back at the tavern where mostly everything started:

“We did work well together,” Lucian said. Seeing them all together, alive and well and recovered from the dragon – though Quest had flatly refused to let anyone heal away their burn scars – it made his heart swell. This, this was what he’d wanted. Not the almost-this he’d had in the wagon but this. Friends. Aliyne eyed him over her boots. “You’ve got a look in your eye I don’t care for, your highness,” she said. “It’s nothing,” Lucian said, though he couldn’t hide his smile. “Just another little job I thought we might take on. For an old friend.” Aliyne groaned and slid so far down in her chair she almost fell out of it. Lucian grinned and pulled the letter he’d received that morning from his pocket, spreading it on the table. Leshanna tapped her thumbnail and the paper floated towards her, hovering above her plate. “Does that man never learn!” she cried. “What was he even doing near the Morandae border?” “Gathering more components, if I know Zinby,” Zander said, taking the letter. He gave a low whistle. “What I want to know is where he keeps getting all this cash from.” “Same place as us lately, probably,” Quest leaned across the table and plucked the letter from Zander’s hands. “Which – we could do this for free, you know. We’re not going to run out of gold again, ever!” “Don’t curse it!” Aliyne called from under the table. “Gold is too easy to lose to say things like that.” “Only if you keep spending it all on fancy boots,” Zander reached out and tapped the flat of his knife on her toe and she shot up, scowling and rubbing at the smear of gravy he’d left. “Well, what do you say?” Lucian asked, drawing their attention back to him. He looked around at them; at Quest’s excited grin, and Zander’s lazy smirk; at Leshanna’s resigned expression and Aline fighting the smile that threatening beneath her scowl. “Fancy a trip to Morandae?”

Rose Quartz: Were any characters cut from the wip? :D

no-one has been cut yet from claws, since it’s in the first draft, but i’m contemplating cutting Dante and merging their parts with Alice, since they occupy very similar story roles, and the subplot I wanted with Dante being a foil to Rainier in terms of Being With Vivien didn’t work. it might in draft 2 though, so we’ll see when we get there

I haven’t really cut anyone from Valloroth either. I nearly cut River from The Perils of Wanting, but I really needed him to support a lot of Ashenivir’s internal plot, so I beefed out his scenes and now in the nearly-final draft he’s so much more present and I love him and I can’t imagine the book without him!

send me gemstones for my wips!

Valloroth taglist: @cherrybombfangirlwrites @memento-morri-writes @foxboyclit @lawful-evil-novelist @at-thezenith @morganwriteblr @fayeiswriting @serenanymph @sam-glade (ask to be +/-)

#writeblr #ask games #gemstone asks #gemstone ask game #original writing #snippets #valloroth blogging #c: lucian #c: aliyne #c: zander #c: leshanna #c: quest #yes i gave them a cheesy avengers post credits snack ending let me live my LIFE

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columboscreens · 2 years

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I do love how Columbo basically treats his murder hunts as a game. But not just any game.

There was a book i read back in middle school of a man who took a hitchhiker to a barren desert, set him loose without any equipment, all so that he could hunt the most dangerous game of all: man. It is my belief that Columbo treats his murder cases as such. It's the thrill of the hunt that earned him his job, and he stops at nothing to take down his prey.

Of course, he's not in it just for the thrill, i mean someone just lost their life. But it definitely helps with his efficiency.

the thing about columbo is that our little guy is a gamer.

hear me out. there is nothing a creative and analytical mind like columbo's loves more than a game. it's why he's lasted so long and been so successful in such an inherently traumatic occupation.

if you give him any game of skill (notice how he avoids games of chance at casinos), he's drawn to it like moth to a flame. he's the type who just has to become good at or beat the game he's playing, and he has the drive, know-how, and talents to help him become top-notch at any which one he touches. it might be cards, puzzles, wordplay, pinball, bowling, billiards, darts, golf. probably video games if he were younger! the list goes on.

his father taught him how to play pool, or his father taught him how to manipulate people flawlessly? maybe both. you decide......

but when it comes to going toe-to-toe with a murderer, those skills transfer very effectively. he learns their game and gets on their level. he tailors his approach and tactics to the environment in which he finds himself, all just part of learning a new game.

and the man doesn't only play his part, he has fun. he has panache, he has showmanship, he does a little tap dance routine with a warrant for arrest in his hand. and i think that's part of why his job provides him with so much fulfillment.

you just lost the game, sir. nyoooom

obviously catching murderers is ultimately about invoking justice on behalf of the law and sanctity of human life, yadda yadda. columbo has more than enough empathy to know that and handle situations accordingly.

but there is no doubt a dark pleasure he derives, savors from chasing and nailing most of his perps that goes beyond a mere penchant for justice. from seeing suspects squirm, from seeing them get whittled down, from seeing them explode in frustration. from winning. call it sadism, call it schadenfreude, call it whatever. i've mentioned that people bit steven moffat's head off for daring to suggest that columbo was a sadist but he was right!

columbo's obviously not evil, he doesn't torture people for the hell of it. he serves his own form of justice and retribution to those who deserve it; having to go through him and his investigative tactics is its own punishment. lots of murderers end the episode relieved to be going to prison because they're finally out from under his thumb.

if he were a normal detective with normal tendencies, columbo would be a much less entertaining show--he'd accost the suspect, quietly gather evidence over time, and make an arrest. indeed, it's that very hard-on for seeing murderers suffer that makes the show fun. plus it's such a laudable thing to be sadistic about that who can even blame him lol. oh you get off seeing uhh Murderers Eat Shit And Go To Jail? that sucks i hate that

frankly, i believe that if he didn't have that gas to feed the flame in him, he'd burn out very quickly. the show gives us rare glimpses of the toll columbo's job takes on him. it's grueling and unforgiving, so i dont think it's merely the merit of catching the murderer that keeps him going--it's the thrill and reward of the game.

gg no re

#columbo says he has no time for games but his entire job is a game #my Origin Story hc is that someone he knew was murdered by someone rich and powerful who got away with it #so this is his life now #columbo #text #ask #longpost

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snarkymonkeyprime · 8 months

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Enjoy the filthy smut between two dumb-dumbs.

Kai fidgeted, silently thankful that his boss was a clothes horse and rich. Had he had to decide on what to wear for this event, it likely would have been off a discount rack and ill-fitting at best. Instead, Xerynn had ordered him to his personal tailor, seeing to it that Kai's tux was perfectly cut and that his shoes were Italian.

He looked down, arching his toes up, wondering if he'd ever worn anything so shiny in the past.

Probably when I had to go to church that one time. It hadn't been a fun time for anyone considering he'd been almost six and wailed the entire time.

Xerynn cleared his throat, tapping his cane against the pavement. "I would advise against focusing on your feet, Mr. Walker."

He sighed and folded his arms over his chest as he straightened. At Xerynn's raised brow, he reluctantly dropped his arms. "Why in the world do you want me here? Won't I be a stain on your rep?"

The god's brow twitched. With his free hand, he took Kai's elbow, drawing him toward the Melody. "There is little you can do to mar my reputation, Mr. Walker," he admonished. "You afford yourself more importance than you retain."

"I think you just insulted me," Kai muttered, allowing himself to be led up the stairs to the main room. Which, honestly, was par for the course these days. Very little Xerynn said to him ruffled his feathers anymore. The retorts were largely reflex.

Still holding Kai's elbow, Xerynn led him into the main space, opulently decorated with cream and silver, the small waist high tables scattered about the room, Portland's elite already congregating, with glasses of alcohol in hand. Waiters wandered with laden trays, pausing here and there and voices created a susurrus of continued noise. Had it been more crowded they might have entered undetected but Kai doubted it. Xerynn drew attention wherever he went, coaxed by his very nature if not his striking looks. Little wonder then that more than one set of eyes turned their way as they entered, some appraising and others critical.

Kai wanted to bolt. He usually entered rooms unnoticed. Being near someone like Xerynn was akin to being pinned under a spotlight. He swallowed and trailed after Xerynn, his skin crawling as the gazes followed them both.

Xerynn glanced back once and smirked. "Worry not. I only need you to be seen."

Confusing. "Why?" he prodded. "Isn't it better if people don't know who I am?"

The god lifted Kai's chin with the head of his cane. "You appear to be my guest. My very nervous, naive guest." He raised his brows and replaced the cold metal with an equally cold hand. "There is nothing those of power enjoy more than attempting to use what they see as a weakness."

Understanding dawned and Kai ground his teeth. "You want them thinking you and I -"

Xerynn grinned then, stroking Kai's bottom lip with his thumb. "Ah, you can catch on when prompted."

Kai swallowed the urge to gag. "Why?" he asked again.

Xerynn dropped his hand, letting it drag along Kai's arm. Strange how when Ethan would do such gentle touches, Kai's mind would shift into overdrive until he was nearly nonsensical. Here, he only wanted to swat at the god and march off. But, if there was one thing he'd learned in the last year, it was that Xerynn never did things on impulse. And listening before reacting would serve him better when it came to the god of war.

"You will mingle. You will demure to the attentions of these people." He leaned in and murmured, "and you will listen."

Kai frowned. "You do realize you're asking me to act like a spy. Me." He knew his own limitations and given his perpetual anxious state, he had to wonder if maybe Xerynn's mind had snapped.

Xerynn patted his cheek, appearing all the while as an affectionate lover. "Not words. Chaos. You will work."

Ah. He nearly laughed. He would have chided Xerynn for such an overly complicated method until he glanced about the room. Calculating eyes tracked Xerynn's every gesture. This group wasn't like most, Kai could sense that easily. While the room dripped with money, there was an aggressive undercurrent that left him shivering.

"Who are they?" he asked, his voice soft.

"You do not wish them to know your name." Xerynn eyed him in warning. "Say nothing to them. Pretend you are ignorant of who I am beyond the firm. Mingle and track. There is something here that should not be."

Kai nodded. He could do that. Besides, the sooner he could find whatever it was Xerynn was after, the sooner he could likely leave. He glanced about the room again, startled to see Ethan and Chernov walk into the open space.

Xerynn followed his gaze and dipped his head toward Chernov who only flipped him off in response.

"Why are they here?"

"Similar reasons," Xerynn intoned. He pinched Kai's chin, lifting his gaze. "You seek Chaos for me. They seek else."

Yay, work party. He slipped out of Xerynn's touch, careful not to appear as though he was in a hurry to do so. He smoothed the front of his tux and swallowed, shutting his eyes for a moment. Okay. Chaos. I can do Chaos. He let out a breath and schooled his expression as best he could, stepping away from Xerynn.

He wandered about the room, occasionally acknowledging a nod or a smile from the other guests. For the most part, Kai appeared invisible to the other guests. Without Xerynn at his elbow, he'd effectively disappeared in their eyes. It didn't last long, however. Eventually, an older man cornered him, and Kai did his best to not bristle at the aggression.

The man's eyes were unfocused, and his glass half full; by Kai's guess he was likely already on his third. He smiled politely, skin crawling at the fumes coming off the man. Never let it be said that wealth makes you palatable, Kai groused.

"So." He took a swig from his glass. "I see Xerynn's slumming these days."

Oh, for fuck's sake, Kai thought. He was a split second from shoving the man away when he recalled Xerynn's warnings. Instead, he smiled innocently and murmured, "Mr. Warrgott is very kind." Christ, Xerynn, you owe me for this, you dickhead.

He jumped when the man clasped his chin, tilting his head as though examining a horse. "You're cute though. Bet you're fun."

Nausea swarmed in Kai's gut. He didn't necessarily care if anyone thought Xerynn was screwing him. He knew differently. But this man appeared willing to find out and that alone spiked Kai's flight response. Before he could do anything, however, a hand latched on his wrist, rescuing him.

Blank faced, Ethan pulled Kai to his side and stated firmly, "Mr. Warrgott sent me for you, Mr. Walker."

He didn't fight the beaming smile at Ethan's interruption. Ethan's eyes were hard but not for Kai, that much was clear. He turned back to his companion and said brightly, "Sorry, must go." before happily following after Ethan. To his shock, thought, Ethan didn't take him in the direction of Xerynn but rather down a smaller hallway where signs pointed to the coat check room.

Ethan shoved him into the small room, turning to lock the door behind him as he did. His shoulders were hunched, once hand splayed against the door as though he struggled to control himself.

Kai smiled. He's probably just as irritated about being here as I am. "There a reason you're locking us in with coats?" he teased.

His boyfriend turned them, the dark look from before still present. Kai's smile faltered and he prodded, "Ethan? You okay?" He squawked when Ethan surged into him, hands on either side of Kai's face as he kissed him, desperate and nearly painful in its suddenness.

Oh. Oh, I see. He relaxed them, eagerly returning the kiss as Ethan walked them back until Kai was pressed to the wall between two racks of coats. He circled Ethan's wrists with his hands, tugging until he got the man's attention. He drew those familiar hands down, thumbs stroking the backs in tandem.

"Feel better?" he grinned. Ethan's shift toward impulsivity was an interesting thing to watch. He'd been so closeted for the better part of his life that he rarely did things overt. Those first few months they were together he acted more like a confused puppy, clearly wanting to jump all over Kai but unsure of how and when. Jumping him in a closet, though, was new.

The hot look from before had tempered but Ethan still clearly appeared annoyed. It passed in a breath, shifting into a searing directness Kai was far more fond of. He reached out and touched Kai's lips, almost reverent in his gentleness. "He shouldn't have touched you."

In the past, Kai would have been pissed at someone acting so possessive. But with Ethan, Kai just reveled in it. He would never provoke the man but neither could he deny the thrill at Ethan's frustration. Kai was sure he'd never get tired of the sight, those familiar pale blue eyes hazy with lust and ire. Didn't mean he necessarily wanted to be groped in a coat closet with half of Portland's upper echelon milling about only a few feet away.

Still. He rested his arms on Ethan's shoulders, hands loosely clasped. A boldness he didn't always feel crept over him and he cocked his head slightly, blood singing at the way Ethan's eyes never left his. "Problem, officer?"

Ethan scowled. "Do you have any idea what you look like?"

Kai fought a grin. Instead, he blinked innocently. "Why, whatever do you mean?" he teased.

Ethan's fingers dug into his waist drawing a hiss. He leaned in, resting his lips against Kai's jaw and growled, "They think you're Xerynn's."

Kai did laugh then. "I-it's just a ploy," he protested. "Xerynn wanted me working tonight. Someone's got some Chaos-something-or-other and I need to find it." Still snickering, he watched Ethan draw back, a very obvious pout on his face.

I love you, you idiot, he thought with affection, his own heart stuttering at the realization. His humor softened and he cupped Ethan's cheek, dragging a thumb against his boyfriend's neatened beard. "It's nothing to worry about."

Looking every inch a petulant giant, Ethan looked away. "I kept hearing them say how . . . how surprised they were by Xerynn's new arm candy." His throat worked as he frowned and looked steadily away from Kai. "Like, like they thought you weren't good enough."

Kai's heart overflowed in that moment. He brought his other hand up to Ethan's face and forced the man to look at him, smiling at familiar want and affection in those eyes. "Ethan, are you seriously angry that they didn't think I could get Xerynn?"

"Maybe," he mumbled.

You idiot, he chided, grinning. He leaned in and kissed Ethan gently. "Frankly, they should be wondering if something's wrong with me mentally if they think I'm here with him because anyone he actually seems to want to pursue always has a few wires missing," he retorted. Granted, he only had Jac as an example but it was a hefty example.

Ethan's eyes flicked to Kai and away, but beneath Kai's fingers, the man's jaw no longer jumped.

"Ethan," he murmured. Eyes swung back and locked on Kai this time. His heart jittered at the heat there. "Ethan," he repeated. He leaned in kissing Ethan gently. "Were you jealous?" he teased.

He gasped when Ethan pinned him to the wall again, startled by the sudden movement. He didn't fight when Ethan took Kai's wrists and pinned them above his head.

Of course you only need one hand you goddamn behemoth, he mused as Ethan drew his empty hand down his neck. Thank fuck. His eyes fell shut and he lifted his chin, shivering at the blunt scrape of fingernails along his skin. By reflex, he widened his stance and whimpered when Ethan pressed close, letting Kai know just how affected he'd been.

"You're mine, remember?" Ethan growled, leaning in to fasten his mouth to Kai's neck. He dragged his teeth along Kai's skin, lips curling in response to Kai's startled yip. "Wish I could leave a permanent mark on you. Wish I could show them you're mine."

Kai squirmed, growing hard and flush at the want in Ethan's voice. It was the same for him, though. Everywhere they went eyes followed Ethan. Lust trailed after the man like an unending river. And while Kai knew Ethan would always be faithful, it didn't prevent the tiny doubts that would worm into his head when they were separated for long periods.

"I am though," he breathed.

"Are you?" Ethan's voice shifted, darkening. He huffed a puff of air across Kai's dampening skin. "Are you mine?" He let go of Kai's wrists but when his arms began to drop he growled, "Keep them there."

Kai shut his eyes and nodded frantically. The whine that came out when Ethan reached for his waist might have embarrassed him once but now, he only fidgeted, his imagination filling in the next steps.

He shifted again as air passed along his now bared stomach, Ethan having yanked his dress shirt from out of his trousers. He bit his lip at the moan that burst in his throat when Ethan slid one hand down the back of his boxers, squeezing roughly.

"This," Ethan hissed, fingers digging into Kai's ass, "is mine."

"Yours," Kai gasped, hips bucking against Ethan, his dick already throbbing and seeking. "Ethan, anyone ever tell you," he swallowed, opening his eyes to slits, a loopy grin slanting his mouth, "that you're kind of horny?"

His boyfriend surged forward, knocking him to the wall as he brought their mouths together, a spark of pain rapidly fading under the welcome onslaught. He would never tire of this. Never tire of Ethan's want. He never wanted to be without it.

Ethan dropped his chin, dragging teeth along Kai's jaw. "You have no idea how hot you look." His voice thickened, ragged and strained. "How I wanted to bend you over every surface."

Kai scrunched his eyes shut, squirming under the filthy image. He wasn't sure what it was that Ethan saw in him sometimes. Ethan looked like he'd stepped out of a fashion magazine whereas Kai was lucky if his hair behaved for a day. And yet, a man as drop-dead gorgeous as Ethan seemed utterly floored by Kai's very presence. It was heady and Kai was fast growing addicted to the feeling.

"Y-you'd get arrested," he teased. "Chernov'd be pissed." He could feel Ethan's responding pout on his skin.

"Don't mention him when I'm trying to fuck you," he admonished.

Kai opened his eyes halfway, feeling drunk. Ethan's gaze was steady and hot. "H-here?"

Ethan's kiss was filthy, all tongue and sucking wet. "Yes," he rasped. "I want you. Here. Now. Need you." His fingers dug deeper into the soft flesh of his ass. "Need to feel you."

If he said no, Kai knew Ethan would relent. He'd protest with his words only but let Kai lead them out. Maybe take them home. Maybe see if they could get an open room at a nearby hotel.

Kai's heart thundered in his ears. He'd do anything I asked. He'd never deny me. That scared him more than his earlier realization about his feelings for the other man. His hands dropped from the wall, draping over Ethan's shoulders again. He swallowed and whispered, "I love you," before he could stop himself.

Ethan blinked, eyes darting about Kai's face. In a beat, he broke out into a grin. His kiss was still eager, still desperate but sweeter somehow. A steady press of skin and the tease of a familiar tongue. "My heart is full of you," he murmured. His mouth moved in soft sweeps before he rested his lips near Kai's ear. "You paint my life in gold."

Kai's breath caught, fingers clenching on Ethan's shoulders. He turned then, meeting the other man's gaze. The adoration there left him shaking. Tears pricked his eyes and he shut them tight, struggling to contain them. He whimpered at Ethan's mouth drifting sweetly over his shut lids.

"Not fair," he whined. It really wasn't. Kai thought it a big step for him to even say those three words. And here Ethan went and damn near spouted poetry. You asshole, he lamented, his heart threatening to burst.

Ethan's laughter was a low rumble in his chest. "I lost to you so long ago, Kai. It's only fair I score a point or two now and again."

Kai sniffed, opening his eyes, a tear falling free as he did. Ethan's thumb swept it away, his palm cradling Kai's cheek.

"Cheater," he grumped.

Ethan grinned. "Do I get a prize?"

He shivered, watching as the lust from before returned, turning Ethan's pale eyes into molten pools. He licked his lips, not missing Ethan's greedy tracking. "I said I love you, doesn't that count?"

Ethan's hands dropped to his waist again, his left creeping back toward his ass. "And I told you to keep your arms up: strike one."

"Oh, really?" Kai prodded, his heart kicking up. He bit his lip, knowing it would wind up Ethan more. "I didn't realize there were conditions." He lifted his chin, brows following. "Bad form, Ethan. You're supposed to explain all the rules."

He gasped when Ethan thrust his thigh up, pressing to Kai's still hard cock. "Okay. Rule number one: arms up." He jerked his chin toward Kai and repeated it until Kai responded. "Good boy," he purred.

Kai shivered, groin throbbing. Ethan could be somewhat aggressive in bed but this was something altogether different. And Kai wasn't about complain. Given the endless pulse in his head and the pleasant press of their bodies, he only wanted more.

Ethan's hand returned to his ass, squeezing rhythmically. "Rule number two," he husked, using his right to undo Kai's bowtie, "you can't touch me."

"You fucker," he groaned. He loved touching Ethan. Loved the feel of firm muscle under soft, fiery skin. Loved the feel of sweat that gathered in his tousled hair.

Ethan clucked his tongue. "No touching," he repeated, looking distinctly pleased with himself at Kai's torment.

"I'll get you back for that," he warned, meaning none of it. In fact, given how turned on he was at the moment, this might be a scenario worth revisiting. Ethan, you've ruined me, he admitted.

Ignoring his threat, Ethan whispered, "And rule number three: you can't make a sound."

He glowered at that, blushing hard. They both knew Kai was noisy in the bedroom. In fact, Ethan seemed to think it a point of pride to see how loud he could get Kai to respond. "You're kidding."

Ethan dragged his thumb along Kai's swollen bottom lip. "Punishment for letting other people look at you." His eyes flicked from Kai's mouth to his eyes and back again. "You make a sound, I stop."

"You sure you want to commit to that?" Kai asked, knowing full well how lost Ethan could get in sex. "Pretty sure your lower brain will take over if you try," he mocked.

Kai yipped at Ethan's free hand clamping down on his groin, fingers finding the outline of his dick easily and squeezing. "No sound," he taunted. His grin was lazy and dangerous but his chest was rising and falling faster by the second.

Fuck it, Kai thought, biting his lip and nodding.

"That's my boy," Ethan sighed, kissing him hard, pressing him to the wall, and letting Kai feel his ardor, hard and thick against his thigh.

Kai shut his eyes, clenching his hands together to fight the urge to touch. His arms trembled with need as Ethan's mouth moved, nipping and licking as he slowly undid his dress shirt, seemingly taking ages to unhook each button before finally exposing Kai's chest.

He caught the rustle of fabric as Ethan knelt and bit harder on his lip at the urge to whimper when Ethan mouthed his belly. The man was obsessed with the soft skin there. Often getting Kai to come just from tender, never-ending ministrations. He pressed his head to the wall, eyes screwed shut as he squirmed, wanting to watch but also knowing it would only make the torment worse.

Ethan's tongue laved the skin above his belt and he murmured, "Nobody gets to touch you like this, do they?"

Kai opened his mouth to answer but snapped it shut when Ethan nipped his stomach. Instead, he pressed his lips tight and shook his head violently.

"No one gets to see you like this. See you unravel."

His mouth dropped open as he began panting, struggling to keep his thoughts even. Oh, you're such an asshole, he whined. Still, he wanted it to keep going. Straining to hear Ethan's next taunts. His next commands.

He pressed his lips tighter when the telltale burr of his zipper filled the coat closet. Ethan's hands were sure and warm against his skin, drawing his boxers and trousers down and leaving them pooled at his ankles. Until all that hid him from Ethan's appraising eyes was his dress shirt, open as it was.

Christ, I'm naked in a coat closet with my boyfriend at an upscale event. Am I a slut? The thought almost made him giggle, giddy as he was. Jac would approve. It was a sign of how turned on he was that even thoughts of the rapacious assassin did nothing to dim the ache in his cock.

He cracked open an eye, immediately regretting it. Ethan knelt at his feet, eyes blown wide with desire, tie loose and throat of his shirt open to reveal a flushed chest. Ethan met his bleary gaze and held it as he turned his head just enough to press a filthy kiss to the inside of Kai's thigh, dragging his tongue upward with a flick. His right hand splayed against the back of Kai's leg, lifting it slightly as he continued to nip and suck at bared skin.

His arms began to fall but Kai snapped them back up when Ethan pulled up his left hand and held up a finger, wagging it back and forth slowly, one eyebrow raised.

I will kill you. I swear, I will kill you in messy ways.

Ethan sucked a bruise into Kai's thigh, raising his left higher to splay his fingers along the crease of Kai's hip. Kai bucked towards the warmth, wanting Ethan's hands on him elsewhere. So close. So very close. His cock. twitched, throbbing under the soft touches, precome dribbling in response.

Ethan's tongue dragged along his skin. "Pretty," he murmured.

Kai squinted at him, heaving. He opened his mouth to chide Ethan but shut it just as quickly. Instead, he only screwed his mouth up and rolled his eyes.

His boyfriend chuckled, shifting closer. "You're so pretty like this, Kai." When Kai only shook his head, Ethan drew a finger along the underside of Kai's dick, the featherlight touch a shock, enough to draw a gasp.

"Ah, ah," Ethan warned, dragging his finger in the opposite direction. "Want to say something?"

Kai shook his head harder, eyes squeezed shut. Ethan continued his torment and Kai wanted to kick him, trembling at each light touch. Desperate, Kai shifted his arm, pressing it to his mouth to muffle a groan.

"I wonder if that's cheating," Ethan mused, leaning into to replace his finger with his tongue. Kai's eyes snapped open at the first pass, his hips driving up for more. He whimpered when Ethan pressed his ass back to the wall with an arm at his waist, eyes bright with humor at Kai's frustrated snort.

He was immediately grateful for Ethan's pressure at his hips given how his legs buckled when the man swallowed Kai down. He bit down on his sleeve, choking on the keen in his throat at the familiar, wet heat. Brow twisted, his eyes cracked open and Kai regretted it instantly.

Ethan watched him, blue eyes lit like fire, his red, spit-slick lips stretched over Kai's swollen cock as he bobbed up and down. Shit, he wanted so badly to tangle his fingers in the man's blond-brown hair. To tug on the damp strands.

He might actually be evil. He's an evil man.

He shuddered as Ethan pulled off with an audible pop, licking his lips. The other man stroked Kai slow with one hand as he rose from his knees. He worked Kai's dick even as he pressed his body against Kai's shaking form.

"Turn around, baby," he murmured.

Kai's eyes widened. Dazed, he kept his mouth fastened to his arm as he turned, using the wall to brace himself given he doubted he'd be able to remain standing for much longer. He let out a muffled whimper when Ethan's fingers dropped from his groin, struggling not to squirm.

Intent on his torment, Ethan dragged his tongue along Kai's jaw. There was a jangle of a belt and the shift of fabric and Kai jerked at the rigid, fiery flesh against his ass.

"I can't wait any longer," he husked. "If we were home, I'd make you scream." Kai took some solace to the fact that Ethan's voice was ragged now, strained with need. "Love the way you sound when you beg," he rumbled, peppering Kai's neck with open kisses.

Kai squeezed his eyes shut as two fingers prodded his ass. A surprised giggle slipped out at the slick touch. He craned his neck, meeting Ethan's eyes, amused at the man's typical horny preparation.

Even with his cheeks flushed with arousal, Kai could see them brighten in a genuine blush. He took a breath and finally unlatched his teeth from his sleeve. Arching back, he bumped his nose against Ethan's, knowing it likely violated Ethan's self-imposed rules.

To his surprise, Ethan pulled Kai's head back into a desperate kiss, even as he thrust his fingers deeper into Kai. He mewled into the man's mouth, scraping his fingers against the wall in response. Even in his haze, he had a heartbeat of clarity: Ethan was about to fuck him against a wall in a coat check room, in downtown Portland.

They weren't so far gone that he couldn't put a pause on it. Get Ethan to take him home and give them proper privacy. He could. As if hearing his trepidation, Ethan pulled back just enough, his breath a soft whisper across Kai's bruised lips.

Eyes so soft. Even after all that had happened between them, Ethan still managed to gaze at him with nothing but trust and adoration.

What did I do in a past life to deserve you?

This time, Kai leaned in, the position awkward and stiff, and whispered, "Fuck me."

Ethan's hand slid into his hair, twisting curls as he growled. "Fuck you so good," he grunted, thrusting into Kai with his fingers. "Gotta be quiet, baby," he warned. His voice was thick but teasing. "Don't want to share your pretty voice."

Kai glared but it lacked any impact given how flush his entire body was, the way he dug his fingers into the wall, wanting instead to feel flesh and muscle under him. I hate you, he mouthed.

Ethan licked the tip of his nose, unrepentant. "Nuh uh; you love me." He drew Kai's head back more, nearly painful as he fastened his mouth to Kai's and mumbled desperately, "I love you. I can't exist without you."

Kai trembled, once more shutting his eyes tight, as though blocking Ethan from view would stop the unending spill in his heart. It wasn't fair. Wasn't fair that Ethan could be this sexy and sweet. His lips curled into a grin as he sucked Ethan's tongue, calling it a point when Ethan's grip tightened in his hair and his hand slipped out of his ass.

Hurry hurry hurry, Kai pleaded, aching and empty. Given their position and haste, he likely wasn't stretched as Ethan usually made him but Kai as beyond caring. He only wanted to feel Ethan, the delicious burn of penetration, the pleasure that would chase it along his nerves.

He cried out into Ethan's mouth as his boyfriend thrust into him, the initial invasion a surge of pain. With a growl, Ethan tore his mouth from Kai's and pressed his lips to the back of Kai's neck, hands falling to his waist, fingers digging in. Kai had barely a warning to brace himself before Ethan began slapping his hips forward, grunting desperately with each jerk.

He bit his lip, wondering if they'd be functional by the end of the night. Each stroke from Ethan left pleasure swirling in his body, a warmth that shivered like waves up and down his chest. "Please, please," he begged, trying desperately to keep his voice down.

"Naughty boy," Ethan retorted, driving hard into Kai. "Weren't supposed to make a sound." His thrusts slowed, becoming fewer but brutal, Kai's entire body jolting with each stroke.

Christ, Kai must look utterly debauched at this point. He was gasping for air, sweat damp on his face and neck, pants pooled at his ankles, arching back as his boyfriend fucked into him, with long, violent strokes. The idea drew out a broken, lewd moan and he dropped a hand to his cock, tugging hard as pleasure continued its relentless surge.

He whined when Ethan stilled his hand. A yelp choked his throat as Ethan thrust again, seating himself fully inside Kai before stopping.

Panting, he glared at Ethan, struggling to move, to coax him to continue. Ethan only grinned, squeezing Kai's hand around his cock. He let go and pressed himself entirely to Kai's back, sliding both hands up, squeezing his chest possessively.

"Such a naughty little boy," he purred, pulling nearly all the way out before snapping his hips forward.

"Ethan!" he cried, belatedly sinking his teeth back into his arm.

Not that it mattered. His impassioned cry was enough to unravel Ethan and he fucked into Kai in a frenzy, grunting in his ear as he rocked into his body with short, violent thrusts. He didn't stop Kai from jerking on his cock this time, instead adding his own hand to the mix and tugging hard on abused skin. Tears well in Kai's eyes, overcome by the sensations as Ethan continued to drive him insane.

Sex with Ethan had never been anything less than exceptional. But here, in this small room, locked away from prying eyes but still lacking privacy, it was as though it was the first night again. Like Ethan wanted to make certain Kai never forgot how his body felt. As though Ethan wanted to tattoo his pleasure so deep inside Kai he'd orgasm from memory alone.

To Kai's relief and regret, however, It was over far too quickly. His mouth fell open in a soundless cry as his dick pulsed, come splattering the wall in front of him. He shivered at Ethan's satisfied groan, fingers painful on his hip as he held Kai still, pumping his release deep inside.

Panting, Kai slumped against the wall, his heart rabbiting in his chest. His nerves sang, sparking with each aftershock of pleasure that swept his skin. He moaned when Ethan pulled out, his softening cock pulling free soft pop. Kai shuddered, missing his presence already. He grinned weakly at Ethan's soft kisses against the back of his neck. With his cheek pressed to the wall, he eyed Ethan awkwardly. "Feel better?" he rasped. He certainly did. He hadn't realized how tense this place had made him until Ethan had literally expunged it from his body.

Ethan guided Kai around to face him, clearly ignoring their nakedness and the general mess they'd created. He looped his arms around Kai's waist, burying his face in Kai's neck with a happy sigh. "Always better after I get to touch you," he mused. He patted Kai's bare ass, pinching it lightly. "Even better when I can get inside you."

Kai's face burst into flame. "Ethan," he whined, "you didn't have to do that in a coat closet though! Just because you get jealous over idiots." He grumbled at the squeeze to his waist. "You're ridiculous," he chided, still warm that Ethan wanted him so badly he'd willingly do something so brazen.

The admonishment meant little given how Ethan only nuzzled into Kai's neck, sighing blissfully. "Can we go home now?"

He certainly wanted to, if only to clean up and not feel so inappropriate. But, he had yet to do what was expected for the night. "I still have to work," he protested. And he still had no idea what it was he was looking for or where it might be.

Wait. He frowned, glancing around the room, realizing there was something here. Sensing Chaos was always a strange affair. Occasionally it blared like a klaxon and other times, it took ages for Kai to pinpoint the source. So no wonder he hadn't noted the strange undercurrent until now. It thrummed in a low tone, only noticeable in the quiet that had enveloped them after sex.

"Hang on." He pushed Ethan away, hastily pulling his trousers back up and fastening the zipper. His shirt hung open as he crept along the edge of the room, his senses pinging like radar. He stopped beside a fur coat, noting the way the texture appeared to ripple, drifting from soft animal fur to a strange thickened material. Under his fingers, the texture jittered from soft to the odd give, a sure sign of Chaos. He dug into the pockets of the garment until he pulled out a silver letter opener.

Chaos curled along the hilt of it, threads of magic that twisted and warped. "It was never even out there!" he snapped. Goddamn it. It was a waste to even wander around the main room. And Kai would never had had a reason to come in here had Ethan not - he froze.

He turned to stare at Ethan who watched him, curious.

"Oh, that asshole!" he yelped.

"Huh?"

Kai squeezed his eyes shut, realizing that this had been Xerynn's goal. "Oh, my god," he gasped, "I hate him so much." He clapped his right hand over the hilt, wincing when the gateway in his palm stretched open to swallow the traces of Chaos easily. Like cold oil, it spread along his arm, fading into the odd link he carried with the Chaos realm. The familiar yet unwelcome feeling dispersed slowly, receding and leaving the room clear, the coat once more the warm sable it had started as. Once done, he returned the letter opener to its place, wishing instead he could fling it in the face of a certain god.

"Kai?" Ethan had come to his side and was rubbing his back, brow furrowed in concern. "You all right? Was it a bad one?"

He turned to meet Ethan's calm, warm eyes. He kissed Ethan softly and shook his head. "It's fine. Hardly anything." He pulled his shirt closed, redoing the buttons. "I think we can go now, though." As he tucked his shirt back in, he scowled. And I need to avoid even looking at Xerynn. He still wasn't entirely certain of the breadth of Xerynn and Destiny's knowledge but given what had happened, he was sure he didn't want to confirm any of it.

Ethan helped him redo his bowtie and with a soft pat to his head, led the way out of the coat room. Thankfully, no one appeared to have realized the room was unusable for the short while they'd been inside. Even so, Kai wanted very much to get the hell out before anyone else accosted him. His job now complete, there wasn't even a reason for him to alert Xerynn. Especially if this was what the god had intended in the first place.

As they neared the door, he glanced to his right and stumbled to a stop when Xerynn lifted a glass in his direction. At Kai's glare, the god only grinned, turning away in clear dismissal.

I hate you. He jumped when Ethan took his hand, lacing their fingers together. He sighed then, his tension melting almost instantly. He perched up on his toes and kissed Ethan, murmuring, "Take me home."

Ethan grinned and looped his arm around Kai's shoulder, pulling him away from hollow wealth behind them and into the cool night air.

He took a deep breath, shutting his eyes for a moment. The thickness of the gala behind them faded and Kai was once more reminded of how lucky he was to have met Ethan. Hard to believe that working for a god would have led him here. With a glance to the man at his side, he realized that all in all, he might actually need to thank Xerynn one day. He shuddered at the idea, screwing up his face in distaste.

I'd rather people think we fucked than do that, he admitted. Instead, he squeezed Ethan's hand, smiling when the man lifted it and kissed the back of it.

Still, he would carry the burden of knowing he owed such an insufferable person that great a debt to his grave if this was his reward.

#hhnf #Kai hunter walker #detective Ethan oakes #detective Alexei chernov #Xerynn warrgott #wump wump #dirty birdies bein dirty #also if I smoked I'd need a cigarette right now

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skywalkin-in-the-papes · 2 years

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Hi! Could I ask a ship request for Albert (and if you want maybe also any newsie you think you’d ship me with? But if that’s too much just do albert :))

I LOVE dancing, drawing and singing. Some style I like to dance are tap, hiphop, modern, Salsa and merengue. I have severe ADHD which is kinda my whole personality bc I struggle a LOT with it, for example most of the day tired as heck and then suddenly at 8pm whoosh I get a burst of energy and it’s not going away till at least 2 am. I am very forgetful and always lose important belongings like my keys (lol), I make very impulsive decisions, especially impulsive buying. I also get super excited over things I love but also get easily upset and I’d wanna know how you’d think Al would be dealing with my ADHD struggles and mood swings. Oh and I’m also half Guatemalan :)

Hey, anon!! You absolutely can!! Thanks so much for the request. I'll for sure do Albert and I might do a couple baby blurbs about some other potential possibilities (there's at least a couple I can think of that might also be cute but I probably won't go into nearly as much detail with them.)

Anyways, let's get on with the ship.

So, Albert isn't a huge huge dancer in public but he likes dancing with you alone. He's not huge on dancing in front of the boys. He's kind of afraid that they'll make fun of him. You being the good dancer that you are help him figure out moves that he can do but still look like good dance moves. You two often dance together in private and you do ALL the different styles. He learns really well under your tutelage.

He finds tap dancing kinda hard but he loves to watch you do it. Hip hop and modern he has a lot of fun with and you guys really like to dance together to some of your favorite songs that tailor to those dancing styles. You think it's cute when he absolutely nails those hip hop moves and he's really not bad at modern dancing either.

Salsa and merengue are also kinda hard for him but you help him and he for sure gets better at it. He loves to do dances that allow you two to actually dance together in this style. He struggles a little bit with the footwork a bit but you help him get better and he starts stepping on your toes so much.

His favorite thing to do is twirl you dramatically just in the middle of the song.

Sometimes he starts to complain when he doesn't do well but you remind him that he can and that he's doing better, he just needs a little practice.

He think it's cute when you dance and when you persuade him to try different things so he'll do it with you just to make you happy. He may be a tough boy on the outside but he has a huge soft spot for ya.

He loves watching you draw, your drawing style, and your drawings in general. He keeps your drawings like they're his prized possession and he for sure hides them from the other boys. He doesn't want anyone to hurt your drawings of his. He himself isn't that great at drawing so he loves your drawings instead.

He loves listening to you sing too. He finds your voice very pretty and he loves listening to you sing as you're just going about your day. Sometimes a song comes on that you like and you get excited and start singing and dancing. Albert loves to watch that happen for sure. His singing voice isn't terrible so he'll sometimes sing with you if it's a song you both like and you're alone.

As far as your ADHD goes, he's totally there for you 100%. He'll make sure to let you rest when you're tired and hang out with you when you're not. He himself need some space so if you're just chilling out, he'll either let you rest or he'll be nearby while you're doing your own thing. You may be sitting on a couch listening to music and he's on the other side of the couch just playing a game on his phone or something. It's very chill and everyone's getting to relax. You two totally have dance parties at 2 in the morning when you're wide awake. He's also more of a night owl anyways so he would totally be cool with random dance parties whenever.

He can be kinda forgetful too but the two of you work together on it. He asks if you have things that he knows you typically forget before you leave him.

He's totally along for the impulsive buying and decisions though. He thrives on living in the moment so he would 100% back you on that. He wouldn't judge you at all for those and would just reassure you that it's gonna be okay even if you don't feel good about the buy.

With the mood swings, it might be a bit harder for him to understand at first but he would get to used to them eventually. He may not always share your enthusiasm but if you're super excited about doing something, he's totally gonna go and do it with you. It makes him smile to see you so excited and he shares in your excitement even if he isn't crazy excited. He'll give you a hug and rub your shoulder and tell you how happy he is for you. When you're sad, he does things that are either funny or make you happy. If it's a serious issue, he'll work through it with you. He'll let you explain yourself and talk through it and if he has some advice, he'll share it. Sometimes, he'll just listen because he honestly doesn't know what to say.

He sometimes has a hard time with mood swings and extreme emotions because he has them himself. He doesn't always like them on himself mostly because he doesn't understand them though. He'll try to work through yours with you and try to make sense of them with you if you don't understand them.

He's just really good at being there for you. When you're sad, he'll just sit there and hold you, rubbing your back until you calm down. Sometimes you two just split a giant carton of chocolate ice cream and all is right with the world.

Albert's not a super enthusiastic dude but he's happy for you when you get excited. He doesn't always understand it but he'll go do the thing that you're excited about or be happy over your latest impulse buy or the show. Your enthusiasm stirs happy emotions that he doesn't always experience and he likes that.

Sometimes if it's something you both enjoy, he'll get excited about it with you. It's kind of hard to get him to be enthusiastic but you do it and it's always fun for you when you do.

Now as far as affection goes, Albert's not a super touchy guy but he's there for you 100%. He thinks you're pretty and likes to hang out with you just throughout the day.

He will hug you and kiss the top of your head, your cheeks, your nose, and your temples if you're out in public. He likes quick little kisses when no one's looking (cuz again, he would never hear the end of it if Race saw and it's not because he's kissing you, he would give up his whole world before he let something happen to you.) because he doesn't really like the attention. When you're alone, you get longer hugs and he'll kiss you more frequently and holds back less.

He's as affectionate as your moods need when it's just the two of you. If you need lots of hugs, he'll hug you for as long as you need. Kisses, same.

He's occasionally bold in public and will just lay one on you if the moment's there. You always like those because they're bold and impulsive.

He's affectionate but is also willing to give you space. Sometimes he needs a little (but he'll just stay up later than you if he wants that or he'll do that if you need some time to yourself during the day) but he's always there for ya. He 100% can make you forget your problems with how much he loves you and how much he shows it.

He's a loyal loving guy who cares for you like there's no tomorrow. You bring so much joy and enthusiasm to his life that he can't bring to himself.

He cares for you deeply and gives you a space to be yourself. He takes care of you when you need the extra help and is a calm person who can help you think through your different struggles.

You show him how to enjoy life to the fullest and he's enjoys getting to do it in a different way. You show him how to engage more with life emotionally and he helps you think rationally through your emotions. He's more calm and encourages you to slow down and think through your feelings and such. You like that and help him engage more with his. Even though you two can be quite a bit different, you really balance each other out nicely and help each other live fuller lives.

Okay here's some other "contestants". Lol.

Crutchie

Crutchie would be super understanding and would 100% work through your different mood swings. He's okay with mood swings and will be there for you through all of them. He's super affectionate too. He also shares in your enthusiasm. You would be able to help him realize that he's still a normal person and can do absolutely anything despite his disability.

Jojo

Jojo's just a super sweet and understanding guy all around. He's emotionally present for you 100% and just really loves you no matter what's happening. Expect hugs and enthusiasm and A LOT of it.

Blink

Blink has enthusiasm for days. You guys may be a better best friend pair but you have enthusiasm and impulsiveness to match his own. He would be there for you when you're sad and when you're happy. He's a really good listener too (even though he's kinda loud). He loves to hug you and kiss you. He's super supportive of you and helps you remember where you left things. He's there for your impulse buys and he'll stay up late with you and give you your space during the day.

There you go!! Hope you enjoyed!! I hope I did okay with both your side of things and his!! Thanks so much for requesting!! I also hope you enjoyed the little blurbs I threw in for the other boys who I though might be cute for you. I really hope you enjoyed it!!!

For those of who you are shy about requesting, don't be!! Please please request!! I would love it!!

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jordangfeworkman · 2 years

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What Started Out As A Fun Game For Youths Has Become The World's Happiest And Most Addicting Game

What began out with a enjoyable Metarun for kids has grow to be the world's most addictive sport. This text discusses how this happened and what it means in the future.

How one can Play

If you’ve ever been round youngsters, you know that they are the happiest and most addicting creatures on earth. They're constantly looking for brand new things to do, and video games are at the highest of their checklist. Games may be as simple as chasing each other round or constructing towers, or as advanced as chess or mahjong. The purpose is that there's something for everyone to take pleasure in, it doesn't matter what your age. Certainly one of the best and most popular video games known as “Tic-Tac-Toe.” It is easy to study and might be played by anybody, even children who have not yet discovered find out how to learn. All you want is a board and some pieces, and you might be prepared to start taking part in. The game is played by putting the pieces on the board in any order that you just select. You then score points by making a row of three items of the identical color. For instance, when you place a piece on the sq. in front of the quantity 3, after which place another piece on either facet of it, you could have created a row of three items. You'll then score 1 level for that move. In case you place a piece next to a

Pros and Cons of the sport

The popularity of Candy Crush Saga has induced many parents to fret in regards to the addictive properties of this sport. Here's a look at the pros and cons of this game. Pros: -The game is very straightforward to learn and progress by means of, making it accessible to a wide range of gamers. -It's also quite simple to make progress in the sport, as all gamers have to do is match related candies collectively. -The rewards that can be found in the game present players with a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. -It may be played by oneself or with mates, which makes it a great option for households who wish to get collectively and have some fun. CONS: -Some gamers find that the sport becomes increasingly troublesome as they continue to play it, requiring them to spend increasingly more time trying to complete tasks. -Many individuals have reported becoming addicted to the game, spending hours each day taking part in it even when there are different actions that may very well be more fulfilling.

Tips on how to Level Up

When you start taking part in this game, you won't think that it is all that fun. But after a while, you will end up addicted to the fun of leveling up your character. Here are some tips that may show you how to get began: 1. Choose the precise character. There are so much of different characters to select from, and every one has its own distinctive abilities and strengths. You may wish to check out a distinct character on daily basis as a way to uncover all their hidden potential. 2. Level up your expertise. As you play the sport, you will unlock new abilities to your character. These skills can be used to defeat enemies or improve your chances of winning in challenges. use these expertise to stage up quickly! 3. Collect assets. With a purpose to degree up your character, you'll need to collect sources like gold and crystals. These sources might be present in varied locations all through the sport world, and they are essential for bettering your character’s talents. Remember to discover each nook of the map in order to find them all!

Features of the game

The world's happiest and most addicting sport is Flappy Bird. Released in February 2014, the sport was initially created as a fun and simple game for youngsters. However, soon sufficient, many adults and even some skilled athletes began to grow to be addicted to the sport. What started out as a easy tap-and-fly fowl game has shortly gained a following as a consequence of its unique and addictive gameplay. In Flappy Bird, you have to assist the little hen fly via the air by tapping on the display so as to keep him airborne so long as attainable. The longer you keep alive, the upper your score will probably be. But be warned – in the event you fail to sustain with the chicken and he falls to his death, your game is over! So what is it about this easy but strangely addictive recreation that has captured so many individuals's consideration? For starters, Flappy Bird is surprisingly tough – but that simply makes it more thrilling whenever you finally handle to go one among the levels. Additionally, the cartoon-like graphics are merely delightful, and there's one thing inherently satisfying about beating a stage after seemingly countless makes an attempt. And final however not least, Flappy Bird is free – so there's really no cause

The way to Earn Gems

Find out how to Earn Gems in Candy Crush Saga If you are wanting for tactics to earn gems in Candy Crush Saga, you've come to the best place! Here are just a few tips on how to get the most out of this addicting game: 1. Level up quickly - As you play and level up, you may unlock new, more powerful objects that may enable you gain a bonus over your opponents. Make sure that to make use of them to your benefit! 2. Earn bonus stars - Every time you full a level, earn a bonus star. Collect as many as possible to spice up your score. 3. Boost your progress with energy-ups - Use power-ups that can assist you get by means of troublesome levels quicker. They vary from further lives to bombs that destroy objects on the display screen. 4. Play with buddies - Tap on considered one of your folks' names and be a part of their sport. You'll each begin at the same degree and might work together to conquer obstacles and acquire sweet.

Conclusion

If you are like most people, you probably grew up playing a whole lot of games. Some were fun and a few weren't, but it's secure to say that most of them left us with a sense of relaxation and joy. That's precisely what Happify is designed to do: take the stress out of on a regular basis life by offering customers with immersive experiences that make them pleased. And if there's one thing we know, it's that children (and adults) love happiness! Thanks for studying; I hope this article has helped shed some light on how this sport might be so helpful to your wellbeing.

#Metarun

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kaitsawamura · 3 years

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would you like to stay forever?

SUMMARY⎮ Sparring with Pro Hero Kirishima Eijiro in his private gym at his home doesn't seem like a bad idea if you don't count the fact that you really, really like him.

STATS⎮ minors do not interact, 18+ ⎮ Rating: M (for mature) ⎮ WC: 5525 ⎮ Pairing: Pro Hero Kirishima Eijiro x Fem!Reader ⎮ Tags: Aged Up Character(s), Friends to Lovers, Sparring, Smut, Fluff, Age/Experience Gap (if you really squint) ⎮ AO3

NOTES⎮ Thanks to @spacelabrathor for listening to me scream about this and to @some-kindofgnome for fueling my Kiri fever dreams. Yes, that title is based on a Mulan quote. This whole fic was based on THIS POST and Kirishima seemed like the perfect character for this pwp. Hope y'all enjoy! (Also please for the love of God, click on the banner to see in HD if you’re on mobile, it looks so much better lol)

It was Saturday and even though you’re on your way to becoming a Pro Hero, you can think of several things you’d rather be doing with your one day off than going to Kirishima Eijiro’s house to spar. But here you are pulling into his driveway, going over combat moves in your head as if your life depended on it. They weren’t really serving their purpose which was to distract yourself. Kiri had offered up his personal gym, encouraged you to stop by with one hand in his pocket and the other rubbing the back of his neck as if he was nervous.

A couple of his friends had already taken him up on the offer. You were the only one he’d offered who hadn’t come over yet. He had texted you a couple of weeks later saying he was starting to take it personally… and then immediately texted with a laughing emoji just to clarify he was only giving you a hard time. It brings a smile to your face now as you remember it. Yesterday he had also clarified it would just be the two of you if you were self-conscious sparring in front of other people. You’d have the whole place to yourselves. Like that should mean something. Which it did. It does , you realize with butterflies growing in your stomach. Kiri doesn’t need to know that though.

The two of you had been toeing around something since you had been hired at Fatgum’s Agency a year ago. Neither of you had made a move. Kirishima, the Red Riot, was a big Pro Hero and while you took pride in your quirk, it didn’t hold a coin to some of the others you’d come in contact with. It had surprised you when Toyomitsu had brought you on. But he had mumbled something about “liking your spunk” and that he thought a teleportation quirk would be a useful one to add to his agency. The first day you had shown up, Kiri had immediately caught your eye. Not for the obvious reasons. Obvious reasons being the fact that he was climbing the Pro Hero charts or the fact that he had a dynamically interesting quirk or that at twenty-five he was already built like a brickhouse.

Those were all valid reasons, yes, but what had pulled you in was his smile and his genuine interest in you outside of your quirk. But he was just like that you had quickly discovered. He knew everyone’s coffee order and what they liked for lunch. He knew when to push and when to back off. He knew when to talk and when to listen , knew when he still had a lesson to learn. The kids flocked to him. Even now you’re still entirely convinced that’s actually his quirk, getting people to like him. It’s not a difficult thing to do though.

Your brain stutters back to the present when a text notification pings from your cell phone as you sit in Kiri’s driveway, picking at non-existent lint on your gym shorts. The cute ones you’re still convincing yourself were your only clean pair and that’s the only reason you wore them.

KIRI : i saw u pull up, u gonna come in or what 😂

Had he been waiting for you to get there? You tapped out a quick response, one that hid the little flip in your stomach at the thought: creeper, you were watching for me lmao

Response bubbles immediately flash on your phone screen but you’re angling out of your car and shutting the door before he can reply.

Somehow, this house fits Kiri perfectly. It isn’t big. You had seen pictures of other top-ranking Pros’ houses. Enji Todoroki’s house, for example, was fucking ridiculous. But even without a massive floor plan, Kiri’s house is nicer than any you’d been in for some time. Clean, straight lines and lots of windows. In fact, you can see straight through the floor-to-ceiling windows out to his backyard when you reach the front door. Is that a pool ? Kiri had tons of fun showing pictures at the agency; it was a well-deserved investment for his already multiple years of service as a Pro. The pictures hadn’t done the place justice though.

Kiri comes to the door, throwing it wide open with a huge grin that shows off his sharp teeth. You ignore the way your mouth goes dry as he drags you in, babbling on like an excited little kid at you actually coming.

“I really thought you were gonna back out! I mean, that would have been fine, of course. I just can’t see the point of having the whole place to myself all the time.” He’s irresistibly cute, walking around showing you the living room and the kitchen and pointing out to the backyard where, yes, there is indeed a pool. “You can come over any time and use that too if you want!” You thank him, warmth pooling in your stomach at how incredibly nice he is.

“Uh, we should probably get in the gym. I have… stuff to do later,” you finish lamely. You don’t have anything to do later but very quickly you’re realizing how far out of your depth you are here. The familiar beginnings of the head over heels fall is washing over you in steady waves. But you’re coworkers and the thought of coming to work every day and having to see his adorable face and not doing anything about it is almost making you nauseous.

“Oh, yeah, it’s just down the hallway,” he rumbles, leading the way and you follow trying and failing miserably to calm the nerves flashing through your veins. You’re here alone with Kiri , the man you’ve been crushing on since you’d started working with him a year ago. And now your stupid brain isn’t just thinking about what it would feel like to run your tongue along his teeth or how his hands would feel between your legs. No, your stupid brain is thinking about what Kiri looks like when he first opens his eyes in the morning.

Your one-track mind is not getting any help, especially when Kiri walks through the doorway of the gym addition and immediately proceeds to pull his shirt up and over his shoulders and tosses it to the side. Shit. His back muscles ripple with the movement and when he turns to face you, it’s heart-wrenchingly obvious that he has no idea the effect he’s having on you. He has to know . Doesn’t he? From your end, it seems wildly obvious that someone as good-looking as him should know .

You glance around, eternally grateful for the fact that the gym is also attractive. Floor to ceiling windows span two of the walls here as well and there’s a large set of French doors leading out to the yard. You find yourself actually in awe when you get a better look at the landscaping. It’s so green . There’s a small patch of lawn but the rest is just artfully arranged native flora and fauna. Violets, tulips. Huge hosta plants. And cherry trees heavy with their signature sakura blossoms.

“Kiri, it’s beautiful!” He comes to stand beside you, looking out the French doors as well.

“You like it? I guess it is pretty nice, huh?” You glance up at him, your chest expanding on a lurch looking at his smile. You’d never noticed before but he has a light dusting of freckles across his nose.

“Yeah, really nice.” You look out again, letting the silence grow until it feels like the most comfortable thing in the world. After what seems like an eternity Kiri clears his throat, rocking back on the balls of his feet. “What are you thinking for today?” The question leaves your lips and you’re immediately regretting it; your stomach flips again when Kiri looks at you like you’re prey.

“Close combat, hand-to-hand combat. You did mention a while ago you wanted to strengthen that, right?” You throw your head back, rolling your eyes, and groan. The two of you make your way to the center of the mat.

“Yeah, I mean, I’d be scared to take me on too,” Kiri says, large hands on even larger hips. He isn’t as tall as some of the other heroes at six foot three inches but he’s wide , thick. You know for a fact you couldn’t wrap your arms around his waist and have your hands meet. He’s wearing the biggest shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen. The sharpened points of his canines are out and on prominent display. Famous last words you think as a snarl erupts on your face.

“I’m not scared , Kiri. I just don’t want to wear you out . You’re a Pro Hero. You’re on the job a lot more than I am. Plus, you’re getting kind of old. Is that a little gray I see coming in?” Kiri bares his teeth even more but it’s not lost on you that he quickly reaches up to rake his fingers through his hair. There isn’t any gray, obviously , but the thought has Red Riot distracted. Distracted enough that when you plant your feet and your fist connects with his face, your knuckles hit skin and not the reinforced rock of his quirk.

“ Shit.” Kiri takes a step back, reaching up to cradle his jaw. His tongue swipes out to lick at the blood on his bottom lip. His vermillion eyes find yours and if you didn’t work with him on a regular basis, you would have felt fear at this moment. You know he wouldn’t hurt you but even now, a thrill races through your veins like electricity. He looks as if he’s going to devour you. You take your own step back, readying your quirk, reaching out to it as your fists hold their position in front of your body. A dark chuckle spills from his chest as Kiri calls on his own quirk.

Now it was your turn to be distracted; you had always been fascinated by Kiri’s quirk, the way his body looked when it hardened up. The ripples of muscle still visible under the toughened skin. The divots and ridges and how they mapped their way across his shoulders and chest and abdomen. You knew how it felt to the touch in fake combat. The Fatgum heroes all took pride in maintaining a healthy routine; sparring was a common workout that was previously done at a local public gym. You wonder absently what it would feel like to touch him slow and at the moment. When you could give extra attention with extra time.

Kiri closes the space between the two of you at the moment your mind strays and you barely are able to teleport out of the way to avoid him crashing into you. You try to take a swipe at him as you materialize from in front of him to behind but this time he’s ready for you and he’s using his quirk. Instead of moving out of the way, he plants his feet and allows your punch to hit. Pain radiates up through your fingers and wrist. It always irritated you that you had to prepare yourself to strike Kiri when he was using his quirk. Otherwise, you’d be in for a whole lot of hurt every time you landed a punch.

Teleportation is a pretty handy quirk. It gives you a pretty good advantage the more you work on your close combat skills. The trick with Kiri was to keep going at him until he ran out of energy. You hadn’t gotten to that point yet; your quirk had its limits as well. You were only two years out of UA, Kiri was out by seven. His strength was already fairly unmatched; sparring with him was always good practice. You relish the thought of the day you can win a sparring session without tapping out. It surges through you like pure energy.

You teleport to stand in front of him again, shifting your weight into your hips and up through your right hook. This time your fist connects with Kiri’s side and he lets out a small grunt. Your fingers don’t hurt so bad this time and by the time Kiri is retaliating, you jump back a few feet. He hmms, a sound that reverberates from his chest.

“That’s all well and good but how do you expect to do anything if you jump that far away?” He lunges forward at a running start, leaping at the last second, sending his gloved fist into your stomach. You were fast, but still not always fast enough. You double over, the air rushing from your lungs and your pre-workout protein smoothie threatening to exit back the way it went in. Sweat is already beading on your brow and sliding under your tank top. You take a few breaths through your nose when an idea pops into your head; you stay bent over. “Hey, I didn’t hit you that hard. You good?”

Kiri comes to stand in front of you, leaving him vulnerable. He can’t see your smirk until it’s too late. You wail on him, using some of the basic combos he’s taught you before today. Satisfaction rolls through you when he actually takes a step back. But then he puts his arms up in front of him, clenching his abdomen and bending inward to protect his core. He drops just a fraction and before you realize what’s happening, he’s swiping his leg out to push through yours. You watch in slow motion as you see his laughing face then the ceiling of the gym as you flip and land on your back.

If you thought you were out of breath before… “Fuuu-.” It’s a wheeze that feels like it’s ripping your chest open. You’re seeing stars. Kiri stands over you, hands on his hips again. You stare at his face; the hero has his hair pulled back into a bun. You snort, rolling your eyes. Why does he still look so fucking good? The sweat has caused some of the pieces falling out of his hair tie to curl. His hair has curl to it? You’ve never noticed before, considering he always gels it into spikes. You like the curl. “Are you--are you gonna help me up, or what?” It was still painful to talk.

Kiri tilts his head to the side, just slightly, and crosses his arms. “I’m thinking not. Last time I let down my guard you got those good combos in.” You stare in stunned silence, sitting up so you’re supported by your elbows. Kiri shifts slightly and if you didn’t know better, you’d say he’s backing up to… get a better view.

“Is that any way to treat your student, Red Riot?” You know you get under his skin when he clicks his tongue against his teeth and holds out a hand with a begrudging eye roll. He pulls you up with ease, quickly enough that you almost lose your balance, swaying into his space. You look up, eyes moving back and forth between his.

He draws in a breath and drags his bottom lip between his teeth. “First of all,” he says as he places his hands on your upper arms, “I’m not your teacher. I’m not that much older than you. Secondly,” he mutters as he tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear, “our relationship isn’t that formal is it?” He’s so fucking close. This is getting dangerous. Dangerous because Kiri is within kissing distance. Dangerous because this gentle side of him is making you lose more breath than falling on your ass. Dangerous because the thought of Kiri taking you on the floor right now is almost too much to bear.

So you fall back on what you’re here to do. Fight. You flash him a wicked smile before rallying your quirk and teleporting a few feet away. His hand is still raised in mid-air and when his head whips to look in your direction, his crimson eyes are narrowed and his nostrils are flared. He laughs and rolls his neck, dancing on his toes.

“Okay. I see. I’m not gonna go easy on you, you know?” You snort and put your fists up in front of you again.

“As if you were going easy on me before, Kiri. Bring it on.” He smiles, the sharp points of his teeth enough to make your thoughts swerve again before you bring them under control. “Bring it on,” you whisper more to yourself as you brace for the fight.

Two hours later, you feel the strain in your muscles. Your quirk is running low on reserves and you know you won’t be able to use it much more. Kiri looks like he hasn’t wasted a breath but you can see he’s getting tired in the way his feet don’t move as sharply. And if the length of time he’s using his quirk is any indication to his state of mind, you know the two of you will be calling it a day soon. But you’re also both stubborn. And you’re dying to get one more good move in on him.

The cockiness the two of you had at the beginning of the sparring session hasn’t gone away but has burned hot into determination. No more smiles, only clear-headed concentration. The two of you are an arm's length from each other, throwing various punches and switching quickly between using your quirks and not. You’re breathing hard, sweat gathering at your brow as you throw another right hook that Kiri easily blocks.

“Get out of your head. You can be too predictable sometimes.” He doesn’t mean for it to come across as rude but the words strike a match to a guttering fire. You bare your own teeth at Kiri even though they aren’t sharp and probably don’t look nearly as threatening but it helps you feel powerful nonetheless. You drop without a second thought, lowering to your palms and sweeping your leg out in front of you in a wide arc. A grin spreads across your face when your calf meets Kiri’s ankle. He’s too physically dense for this move to work if he had seen it coming. But he doesn’t. And his solid 220 pounds of muscle falls hard.

You allow yourself the satisfaction of the moment for only a split second; Kiri’s recovery time is much shorter than yours so it isn’t long before he’s scrambling forward. He goes straight for your wrists to subdue you but with a smirk, you realize in his haste he’s put himself in the perfect position for you to possibly gain the upper hand. You scoot up away from him just enough to drag his arm forward and swing your legs around his neck. Then you elevate your hips and lock your core.

It’s over from there as you squeeze with every last ounce of strength left in your body. It doesn’t take long for him to tap out. You release as soon as you feel his loose hand tap your arm; he collapses over you and you’re too tired to move away or push him off. Now his breathing is rough and you feel a surge of pride. You reach up and place your hand on his head where his bun has come undone; he’s so heavy but it doesn’t feel bad. In fact, the feel of Kirishima resting his head and upper chest on your stomach is feeling nothing short of good . He’s still between your legs and suddenly the air is crackling with a new kind of energy when you gently comb your fingers through his hair.

He rises up, his hands on either side of you. His hips rest between your legs; the mingled heat radiating from both of you is almost more than you can take but there is no way you’re going to move anywhere. He leans forward, so close you can see the flecks of burnt orange in his eyes. If you moved forward just a little, you could close that space between you. He leans down more, his mouth right next to the shell of your ear.

“Maybe not always predictable. You did good today. Probably some of the best fighting I’ve seen from you so far. Keep it up.” He grunts, a shift of his hips allowing the curve of his cock to brush against your clothed sex through his gym shorts. He stiffens in what you think might be embarrassment. “Shit, sorry, let me just, uh--” The stuttering mess he becomes right before your eyes makes something lurch in your chest; you reach for his face without thinking.

“Kiri,” you whisper, rolling your own hips against his. His cheeks are burning a shade of red almost as vibrant as his hair. You bring up your other hand, holding his face between them and bringing him down to settle over you once more. Your lips meet his; he seems to war with himself for just a moment. A suspended second in time. But then he gives in, slipping his tongue against yours in a delicious sliding vision of what’s coming.

He reaches between you to slip his hand under your tank top; his hand is big and nearly encompasses your side. But it’s warm and gentle. Gentle. Who would have guessed that Red Riot could be so fucking gentle? But he is and when his hand moves lower to slide below the hem of your shorts, you give yourself to him with no reservations. His middle finger passes through the mess of your sex; a hissed breath rattles through his chest as your back arches on a ragged groan.

“ Shit. You’re so wet .” He slides his finger back and forth, gathering your slick on the thick digit. He takes his hand away and you mewl. “Can I?” He asks breathlessly as he hooks his hands on the hem of your shorts. You nod, eyes half-lidded. He pulls them down along with your underwear and the way he looks at you, at what’s between your legs, you don’t even have the wherewithal to feel self-conscious. Adoration. It’s the only word you can think of and it makes you wonder if you’d made a mistake waiting so long.

He’s on his knees when he takes your legs and drapes them on either side of his hips; this time he doesn’t hesitate in slipping his finger into your cunt. You nearly see stars just from that and if one finger is any indication, you’re in for it. Slowly, he adds another, his hand pumping into you in a steady rhythm. You’re grabbing for the ground, grabbing for him as a strangled noise pushes from your throat. He reaches out with his other hand to splay it across your sternum and it’s the only thing anchoring you as he adds the third finger before scooting down to put his mouth on your clit.

“ Kiri,” you keen, shoving your hips into his touch, frantically scrabbling for his wrist that’s on your chest just to have something to hold on to. He’s done this before, he’s had to. He’s too good. Too fucking good. Already there’s coiling in your gut as incomprehensible words tumble from your mouth. “Shit. Shit. Kiri I’m--I’m gonna--” He rumbles approvingly against your clit; the vibrations send you closer and closer to the edge and when it crests, your back arches near pain as you cry out, your voice echoing in the gym. It’s deep, roaring through all of your limbs but Kiri keeps going, fingers still pumping, tongue still swirling around your sensitive nub.

Another orgasm breaks over you sharp and quick and the overstimulation has your legs quaking as your arousal gushes over Kiri’s hand and tongue. But then he’s moving again, and you’re blearily aware that he’s shoving his own shorts and boxers past his hips to free his cock. You stare as it bounces back to sit near the planes of his stomach; it’s already leaking steadily with precum. Kiri looks back at you and when your eyes meet, you dart your tongue out between your lips to wet them. Another time, maybe.

Kiri leans forward to lift you up and the closer you get you can barely see any red in his eyes; his pupils are blown, his nostrils flared as he lifts you like you weigh nothing . He could snap you like a twig. But he won’t. You know without a doubt this is the safest you’ve ever felt, even as he lowers you slowly over his cock and it does feel like you’re being split .

“ Fuuuck…” You wrap your legs around him, your mouth dropped open, your hands gripping his shoulders. You try not to dig your nails in but it’s almost impossible with how you’re being filled. You knew Kiri was big but this was almost too much. His forehead drops to yours as he pants. But he’s not moving, won’t move until you tell him to. It makes your heart ache and your cunt floods, drunk on the affection thrumming through your veins. You roll your hips experimentally and the friction is bliss. “Oh fuck, ohfuck.” You move again, pushing yourself up and back down, listening to the hitch in his breathing. “ Kiri, please, ” you whisper. Those words… they’re enough.

Kirishima grips you by the hips, his fingers splayed and digging into the flesh; it’ll leave bruises and the knowledge cracks through you like electricity. Let him leave marks. Let him leave them everywhere. He’s moving you up and down his cock, grunting, mumbling. “Tell me, Kiri, tell me.” His eyes meet yours again and his own mouth drops open.

“Fuck, you’re so good. S’ tight. Jesus, I-- ” Kiri moves his hands from your hips to support you as he lays you down on the floor of the gym. The idea should be questionable but it’s not, it’s fucking not and you can’t concentrate on any other thoughts when Kiri grabs your wrists and pins them gently above your head with one hand while the other comes back to your hip. He thrusts into you at a brutal pace but… it feels like home and you think in that moment as your cunt begins to seize around his cock that you would give up forever to continue touching him.

“Yes, Kiri, yes. Right there, right--shit yesyes yes. ” He pistons up, the veins of his cock rubbing just right and when he releases the grip on your hands, they’re moving to wrap around him on instinct. He’s planting kisses along your jaw, mouthing up to your lips and back down to graze his teeth over your pulse point. “Do it, fuckin’ do it, let them know ‘m yours, ” you slur and when he bites down you crash over the edge on a groan that’s really more of a scream. Everything goes black but you're cradling him to you as his movements become more erratic. The snapping of his hips is getting sloppier by the second and a steady growl punches from his lungs with each breath. “Cum, Kirishima, cum inside me.”

He’s never heard those words before and it lights a fire in his veins. His head is buzzing and then he can’t hear anything as his cock releases and he’s spurting searing hot ropes of cum into your cunt. He goes until you’ve milked every last drop from him and he’d be lying if he said his world didn't suddenly feel whole. Finally, his body settles and his chest drops to yours. Everything slowly bleeds back into focus and somehow, everything seems more colorful than it did moments before. You’re still clinging to him.

“Kiri. Kiri, babe, I can’t breathe,” you say and he slowly rises, taking in your blissed-out expression. Your eyes can barely stay open, your cheeks are flushed. He backs up to see his handiwork on display, hyper-focused on the trail of the mingling cum dripping from the mess of your sex. But you’re smiling. Lazy and tired, completely at ease. “Wanna take a shower?” When you nod he doesn’t hesitate in standing to kick his underwear and shorts the rest of the way off his legs and then he’s grabbing you, scooping you into his arms and against his chest. He pads out of the gym and across the hall to his bathroom where he deposits you on your feet, only after he’s sure you can stand and only long enough to turn the shower head-on.

He puts his hand under the water, waiting for it to get warm. Steam billows from behind the glass door when he’s turning back to you to remove your tank top and your sports bra. Thank god you chose the front-closure one today; you didn’t think either one of you wanted to struggle to get one up over your head right now. When your breasts spill out of the high-impact fabric, you notice with tender amusement that his cock is half-hard again. His eyes go dark again and he leans in for a kiss. But it's slow and sweet.

"You're so fuckin' beautiful," he whispers. He ignores his arousal, ushering you into the stream of water. Your care is the only thing that matters to him right now. The heat slides across your body, and when Kirishima steps up behind you and begins soaping up your shoulders, it feels like heaven .

You take turns washing each other until you’re both blissed out in a different kind of way and the only thing either one of you can think about is sleep. But the afterglow is fading and doubt is creeping in. When you step out of the water, you stand awkwardly as Kiri hands you a towel. “You okay?” He’s actually concerned and you can’t put your finger on why you’re so fucking grateful for it.

“Yea, just tired. I should, uh, probably get going.” Kiri freezes and you think you’ve said something wrong, already crossed a line. Your brain is like a broken record as the stomach-curdling image of having to see him at the agency flashes across your eyes in vivid detail. But then he’s stepping into your space and pulling you in for a hug. A hug.

“Don’t go,” he whispers into the crown of your head and it has you smiling like an idiot against his chest. His skin smells clean and warm with a hint of spice. You bury your face further in as you nod against him. Then he’s leading you to his room, to the king-sized bed. He peels back the comforter and the white sheets and pulls you in beside him. Your back is against him and he hooks his foot around your ankles, bringing you even closer.

He doesn’t say anything more, just lets out a huge sigh as he wraps his arm around you. The last thing you notice before your eyes flutter shut is how your heartbeats are thumping at the same steady rhythm.

Late afternoon sunlight slants in Kirishima’s bedroom window, creating interesting patterns across his blanket. It’s pushed towards the end of the bed, your legs intertwined and tangled in the sheets. He’s still dozing, his breathing not quite that of someone sleeping but not of a person fully awake. You reach out to cup his cheek, stroke above his eyebrows, caress his lips with your thumb. A contented sigh leaves his chest as he grabs your hand and kisses your wrist. His eyes are open now and he watches you. You smile at him, snuggling closer, not wanting the moment to end.

“Hey,” he says quietly, suddenly serious. “I just want you to know, I don’t do this all the time. I mean, I’ve been with other people before but I don’t… I don’t really hook up .” Things start clicking into place as you realize what he’s trying to get across. He just fucked you stupid in his personal gym and somehow he looks bashful. And because you love it, you’re not going to help him along. You just watch, biting your lip to keep from giggling. “I just. I guess what I’m trying to say is I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time. And normally I would have wined and dined you first but... Well. Here we are. Would you like to stay for dinner?”

That’s the last straw; your laughter comes bubbling out of you and Kiri is leaning back to look at you with a quizzical expression on his face. “Is something funny?” That just makes you laugh a little harder but the confused look he’s wearing has you leaning in to press your lips against his.

“I’ve liked you from the first day I met you, Kiri. I’ll one-up your offer and tell you that I might like to stay forever.” A grin rips across his face and your heart blooms with warmth and affection. The world seems full of possibilities but none of them matter except for the possibility laying right in front of you.

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima eijiro #kirishima eijirou #pro hero kirishima #red riot #kirishima smut #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #kaitsuki writes #oh my god i had such brain block #writing this one #because i get too in my head writing smut #BUT i hope everyone still enjoys #we stan kiri in this house

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

Hi! This is for the prompts: LWJ and WWX get together at Cloud Recesses but it’s a secret. When it does come out tho, probably due to WWX mischief some how. JC comes to the conclusion that LWJ has managed to ‘defile WWXs honor’ and now JC has no choice but to fight on behalf of his big brother, who clearly has been wronged.

Honor, Defended - ao3

Untamed

“What are they doing,” Jiang Cheng said, voice strangled, eyes staring.

Nie Huaisang stood up on his toes and squinted over his new friend’s shoulder. “Fighting?”

It looked like fighting.

“No.”

Not fighting? In that case, at least by Nie sect standards, that meant –

“Flirting?”

Jiang Cheng growled, which meant Nie Huaisang’s guess was right. “I’m going to kill the rotten bastard in white! I bet he waited until Wei Wuxian was alone just for this. How dare he take advantage of my – of Wei Wuxian!”

“I mean, I don’t know about that? They seem about tied,” Nie Huaisang said, making a mental note – not that many people could match up against Lan Wangji, especially when he was in a you-are-breaking-the-rules sort of snit. “Each one’s giving as good as the other gets, if you know what I mean…I’m talking about fighting!” He added hastily, seeing Jiang Cheng’s expression. “Just the fighting! And hey, maybe the Lan sect doesn’t flirt through fighting?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jiang Cheng said. “All cultivation sects flirt through fighting.”

Damnit, Nie Huaisang thought to himself with a sigh. That means I’m going to have to train with saber after all if I’m going to get somewhere here, doesn’t it? Well, at least da-ge will be pleased…

“Are you going to interrupt?” he asked, hiding his face behind his fan. “If fighting is flirting…”

As expected, Jiang Cheng choked. “Not all fighting is flirting!” he hissed. “But that most certainly is!”

Nie Huaisang didn’t understand fighting, so he just shrugged.

“Why don’t you confront him later?” he suggested, but Jiang Cheng shook his head, his features already settling into a mulish expression that had no right to look as attractive as it was. “All right, I see I can’t convince you. Good luck defending your brother’s honor, then?”

“If Lan Wangji doesn’t stop flirting with Wei Wuxian in class, I’m going to do something violent,” Jiang Cheng said.

“Okay, now I know you’re delusional,” Nie Huaisang said. “But still very pretty. Oh, I’m torn…actually no, I think I’m fine. I mean, what cultivator do I know that isn’t a bit delusional?”

“Can you stop talking nonsense and focus on how we’re going to split them up?” Jiang Cheng demanded irritably. Really, it was no wonder that Nie Huaisang’s best attempts at flirting were going nowhere. Jiang Cheng was thick.

In many appealing ways. Mm.

Damn his bad taste.

“Well, I think first you have to start by reversing your statement until it resembles the truth a bit more,” Nie Huaisang said, trying to be practical. “It’s Wei-xiong that’s flirting with Lan-er-gongzi, not the other way around.”

“He’s just like that!”

“A giant flirt, you mean?”

“Sociable,” Jiang Cheng insisted with the sort of blindly loyal stubbornness that was sadly very, very appealing to those surnamed Nie. Mouthwatering, even.

“Right,” Nie Huaisang said, dabbing at his mouth with his sleeve to make sure he wasn’t drooling. “I see. All right, I’ll help you. I’ll even promise to find a way to break them up for good, guaranteed – but first you have to meet one condition.”

Jiang Cheng arched his eyebrows, looking unwillingly intrigued. “Name it.”

“You have to come up with one way in which Lan-er-gongzi has been flirting with Wei Wuxian that isn’t ‘he existed being pretty in his general direction’.”

Jiang Cheng opened his mouth.

Nie Huaisang waited.

“…maybe he should consider being less pretty,” Jiang Cheng grumbled.

Nie Huaisang patted him on the shoulder, then left his hand on his shoulder because why not.

“We’ve all thought that about him over the years,” he said. “Better luck next time.”

“You’re supposed to be helping me preserve my brother’s honor!” Jiang Cheng hissed at Nie Huaisang, who had made absolutely no promises of that sort without giant loopholes that he could walk right out of. “Not – encouragingthis!”

“I didn’t! I just helped Wei-gongzi play a tiny little prank –”

“With pornography!”

“Tasteful erotic art,” Nie Huaisang corrected.

“With cutsleeve pornography!”

“Cutsleeve tasteful erotic art.”

“Nie Huaisang! You’re missing the point!”

“Am I?” Nie Huaisang asked thoughtfully, tapping his fan against his lips. “I don’t know, I’m not sure I am. Can you explain what the point is again?”

Jiang Cheng threw his hands up into the air. “Listen, it was bad enough when Wei Wuxian got thrown out of Teacher Lan’s classes and had to go copy rules in the Library Pavilion for a month; that’s disgraceful and loses face for our sect, but at least his personal honor was preserved –”

Bad scholarship was, in fact, not an impediment to having personal honor. Nie Huaisang knew this fact forwards, backwards, and intimately.

“But then Teacher Lan fell for Lan Wangji’s tricks and decided to assign him to supervise copying –”

“Lan-er-gongzi has tricks? That’s news to me.”

“…well, either way, they got cooped up there in that room, together, alone, for – for weeks!”

“Hasn’t Lan-er-gongzi been using the muting spell on Wei-xiong most of that time?”

“No, eventually Wei Wuxian learned his lesson and now he shuts himself up whenever he sees him starting up the spell, he complains to me and shijie about it constantly every night,” Jiang Cheng said, grumbling. “Stop interrupting me!”

“Sorry. Go ahead.”

“Anyway, if that wasn’t enough, you’re now encouragingthis debacle by setting up a prank that involves Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji, and cutsleeve pornography.”

“I did,” Nie Huaisang agreed. “And it’s tasteful erotic art, Jiang-xiong.”

“Why do you keep insisting on that?” Jiang Cheng snapped. “Isn’t it the same thing?”

“No,” Nie Huaisang said patiently. “Because I also have pornography, and it’s a lot less tasteful.”

Jiang Cheng stopped, utterly distracted from his previous rant. “...you do?”

“Mm. Want to see?”

“Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan, wait for me, I want to talk to you – I need you! See, for whatever reason, I can’t find Jiang Cheng anywhere. Can you help me look –”

Nie Huaisang shut his window before Jiang Cheng could overhear and get distracted.

They were busy.

“All right,” Nie Huaisang said. “I admit it, you’re right.”

Jiang Cheng looked at him. “…you do?”

“I do.”

“Right about…what?”

“About the flirting, and Lan Wangji having tricks,” Nie Huaisang said, nodding wisely. “See, the Lan sect take their rules about their forehead ribbons very seriously. It’s parents, children, and lovers only. So if you ran into Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji entangled on the path near the back mountain, both of them soaking wet, with Lan Wangji’s forehead ribbon wrapped around their wrists…why, that’s practically an elopement!”

Jiang Cheng, predictably, turned purple. “He eloped with my – I’m going to kill him!”

“Have fun with that,” Nie Huaisang said happily, and watched as Jiang Cheng drew his sword and charged, shouting something.

Wei Wuxian attempted to defend their conduct, except apparently their conduct involved finding the ghost of a Lan sect ancestor –

“Did you bow?” Nie Huaisang asked, very unhelpfully. “Both of you? So you’d say you’ve made your bows to the older generation? Have you bowed to heaven and earth yet, too?”

Lan Wangji gave him a death glare, but maybe he should have thought of that before writing to Nie Huaisang’s brother disclosing details about Nie Huaisang’s love life.

“I’m going to kill you!” Jiang Cheng roared.

Nie Huaisang smiled over his fan at Lan Wangji and gave a jaunty little wave.

A few days earlier

“Wait, so, you’re actually together?” Nie Huaisang asked, and Lan Wangji nodded. They were having tea together the way they always did at the middle of the week, a tradition started long ago when their brothers were visiting and being utterly intolerable. Even their long-standing fight with each other would be put aside for mid-week tea. “Well done!”

Lan Wangji’s ears turned a little red. “Mm.” After a few moments, he added, “Mm.”

“No, no, I don’t think you need to worry,” Nie Huaisang said. “He may seem flighty, but he’s very loyal…the Jiang sect might object, though. They can be a bit tetchy about these things.”

Arched eyebrows.

“What do you mean, how would I know? Have you somehow missedthat I’ve been trying to snag Jiang Cheng all summer? There are more things in this world than Wei Wuxian’s waistline, shapely as it may be.”

Eyes narrowing.

“…don’t you dare tell my brother!”

A smirk, not that anyone else – excluding Lan Xichen – would know.

“I don’t care about your ‘appropriate conduct’! If you tell my brother that I’m dating instead of studying, I’ll find a way to make your life miserable, too! Just you wait!”

#mdzs #jiang cheng #nie huaisang #lan wangji #wei wuxian #my fic #my fics #honor defended

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miekasa · 3 years

Text

more boyfriend headcanons: love languages

↯ pairing: eren jaeger x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: modern au, college au to some extent, fluff

↯ notes: i cannot stop thinking about him, so have 50 more head canons about this absolute menace. despite the title, he can and will turn anything into a love language, so beware.

annoying the hell out of you (quality time)

You’ve heard of girls sitting on their boyfriend’s laps and hugging them/falling asleep while they play games, now get ready for: boyfriends hugging you from the back while you attempt to do any mundane activity bc they miss you.

Because that’s Eren. About almost anything, because his physical affection, when not in the presence of other people, is absolutely on ten thousand and one.

The only public place he doesn’t mind cuddling up to you is the library. He doesn’t mind putting his arm around you or leaning his head on your shoulder, or even doing the sitting hugging thing in the library. Mostly because few people are there anyway.

Mind you, you’re the one who even showed him where the library was, and now he doesn’t know how to act. “Eren it’s not a ‘cuddling spot.’ It’s the library where I—and lots of other people, including yourself—go to do homework.” “If not cuddling spot, then why library chairs and study rooms cuddly?”

Particularly when it’s getting late and you’ve been crammed in the library for hours, and Eren just wants you to pack it up so he can drive you home. He’ll squeeze himself between your body and the back of your chair, wrap his arms around your stomach, and lay his cheek on your back.

Most times he falls asleep waiting for you to be finished. Sometimes he gets impatient and tickles you until you agree to leave. Either works for him.

He doesn’t not like holding hands in public, but it’s not his go to either. If you’re walking together, sometimes he’ll wrap his arm around your shoulder—usually after some cocky comment—or even walk behind you with his hands on your shoulders like it’s a two person conga line.

He doesn’t kiss you in public a lot, and never around his friends. They can see the literal hearts in his eyes when he’s around you though, so it’s not like he has to. On occasion, he will kiss your cheek. It’s kind of random, but you don’t question it.

In all honestly, whenever he gets affectionate or cuddly in public is all pretty random, even to him. Sometimes he’ll just be standing around you and he’s hit with the urge to engulf you in a hug and kiss your cheeks and he has to stop himself like, “....Why did I just think about doing that?”

Partially because he wasn’t outwardly hugged or shown affection a lot as a child, so sometimes he gets to urges children do to just want a hug. But he’s also pretty bad and/or new at processing his emotions like that so he mostly stands there like 🧍 looking at you with lovey dovey eyes instead.

Touchy when he’s drunk. But that’s not exclusive to you; anyone in a five foot radius of him will be subject to his arm slung around their shoulders, or him being slumped over their back, or random head ruffles.

Most commonly Armin, but I think we all knew that. Sometimes it’s Jean, and Jean is an even messier drunk, which results in the both of them actually being overly affectionate with each other in a strange, but endearing way. They both deny it to their graves when they’re sober, though.

Hovers around you. Constantly. Like a shadow.

Does not leave you the hell alone when you’re in the kitchen. Will make it 100x more difficult for you to cook or just maneuver, which is ironic seeing as the most gourmet thing he can cook up is bagel with cream cheese.

Sometimes Eren seems unaware of his size in comparison to you and your friends. It’s very sweet that he laughs with his whole body, but he’s got to realize that if bumps into you because of his sporadic laughter, that he might accidentally knock you into next Tuesday.

Likes when you touch his hair, doesn’t matter where or when, or who’s around. He loves it, all of it.

Will press his face against yours if he has stubble, just to be annoying. Like always.

If you hadn’t gotten it from everything else, he just likes to annoy you in general. But, like, affectionately. I keep saying it’s his love language and I mean it. Really—what it is is that he likes spending time with you, but he also likes annoying the hell out of you, too.

Bites. Not in a sexy way—well, unless you want him too—but, just because. Bites your shoulder when you’re not expecting it, bites your cheek while you’re in the middle of watching a show. Sometimes he takes your hand in his and your think it’s going to be sweet and he’s going to kiss it, but really he just brings it to his mouth to bite it.

Bites your ass, too. Again, just for fun. Because he thinks he can get away with it. Biting is a love language I’m telling y’all.

Likes to give you piggy back rides, even if you don’t ask for them or need one. You could be going from your room to the living room and Eren insists on carrying you there.

And for some reason, he thinks that because he likes to hold/lift you, that that should apply to you as well?? Like he’s not 6′1 and big bodied, hello?? Eren you cannot just jump on top of people, you’re grown.

He lets you dress him a lot. His fashion sense isn’t bad, and to be honest with you, I think he’d be a little bit of a hypebeast LOL. I don’t mean decked out head to toe in Supreme (god forbid...) but definitely has a bit of a sneaker obsession.

Not that he keeps them clean or is obsessive about creasing them he couldn’t care less. He just thinks they’re cool. Maybe even some accessories too, like those KAWS toys. Not a lot because they’re hard to get, but is really proud of his little growing collection.

But if you want to dress him up, he’s down for it. Would even let you buy him a pea coat so he can pretend to be a scholar. (He’s not BYE). He’ll tell you if something really isn’t his style, but he’ll wear it if you tell him he looks hot 🙄

Kinda forces his way into your life in little ways. Like, he’ll start adding his favorite snacks to your grocery lists. Moves a pair of your shoes from the door to make room for his own when he’s over. Basically claims two drawers for himself in your dresser. Annoying. Endearing.

Lowkey has his own intricate skincare routine, but he likes doing it with you more. He’ll make it a whole thing, and buy wine, and stupid drinking card games, and sit with you on your bed for 2 hours playing while your face masks dry.

Texts you if you’re in the same room as him, but not paying attention to him. Especially if you’re doing schoolwork.

Throws pillows at you while you’re sitting at your desk to get your attention. He could just say your name, but it’s so much more fun this way (according to him anyway). It’s all fun and games until you smother him with one.

Thinks arguing with you is cute, and sometimes says or does—or doesn’t do, for that matter—things just to incite an argument. Not a big one, or something serious, just petty things to rile you up so he can kiss and make up for it. For example, he’ll purposely putting the dishes in the wrong place, or hiding the remote from you, or putting his clothes in the wrong hamper.

“Eren, I swear to god, if you don’t stop putting the water bottles on the top shelf—” “What are you gonna do it about, pretty girl? Hit me with it? You can’t even reach—ow!”

being your loudest hype man (words of affirmation)

The amount of pictures he has of you... criminal. From off-guards, to posed photos, to selfies, to screenshots, he has them all tucked away in a little folder with your name and a string of very inappropriate emojis after it.

Screenshots 90% of your snaps to him, even if his just of your eyebrows up. Sometimes because he thinks it’s funny, sometimes to save the picture because he likes it, but mostly because he knows you don’t understand WHY and that’s gives him the most satisfaction 😌

Loud and annoying in your comments on social media too. Hype man almost to a cringe fail level. He doesn’t care though, he has to let it be known.

You could post a simple picture of you and Mikasa at lunch and Eren is in the comments screaming as per usual. @jaegerbomb: do i see TWO pretty best friends??? fuck it up besties 😫🥵🥵😜

GOD. HE WOULD RESPOND WITH “SO TRUE, BESTIE” TO ANYTHING ONCE HE LEARNS WHAT IT MEANS.

Oh, but he doesn’t take to it lightly when you call him bestie, or refer to him as your friend in any capacity. He’s your boyfriend, and would like to be labeled as such.

If you did that prank where you pick up the phone while you’re around him and say “Oh, I’m not too busy, I’m hanging with a friend right now,” he would pout about it for days. Days. Doesn’t get over it, and reminds you of your transgressions every two to three business weeks.

Tells you you look hot all the time, regardless of what you’re doing or wearing. He means it, too, genuinely, he thinks you’re hot. But he does get a kick out of how potentially embarrassed it makes you.

Tells you you’re smart and beautiful and his favorite person on the planet. He means it, always, even if the delivery isn’t romantic. Although, he would argue that telling you he would “tap that” is very romantic.

for him: receiving gifts & words of affirmation

Eren would be really humbled and honored to receive a gift from you. He needs to receive physical affection, too—but something about you thinking about him enough to buy or make him a gift that he’ll love and cherish really hits home for him. He doesn’t have many people who would do that for him.

If you buy him anything, he’s using it the second it’s out of the wrapping paper. You buy him shoes? He’s wearing them the next day. A new case for his phone? Rips the old one off in an instant. A little trinket for his keychain? He can barely remember to carry his keys in the first place, but suddenly he can’t ever forget them now.

He just can’t get over the fact that you think about him and know him well enough to tailor your purchases to his liking. It’s almost an impossible concept to him, and really reassuring that you love him as much as he loves you.

On a similar note, he actually doesn’t mind couple items, as long as they’re not obvious and/or corny. Down to have a pair of matching hats or phone cases or even sneakers. You don’t even have to always/only wear them at the same time, just knowing you have the same thing at home kinda makes him feel fuzzy inside.

He also thinks it’s hot. He can’t explain why knowing his girl has the same kicks at him is hot, he just knows it is.

As much as he likes telling you how hot you are, Eren also likes to hear that you find him attractive—and that you like him, in general. For the most part, he gets that from your physical reciprocity and quite literally letting him hover around you like a fly, but it’s nice to be told with words every once in a while.

For as much as he knows it, he gets a little caught of guard whenever you tell him you love him. He knows you love him, but hearing it sometimes is a little surreal to him. Very reassuring, too, and everyone needs a little reassurance from time to time.

#aot x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #eren smut #eren fluff #levi x reader

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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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