#first time doing horror WOOOO
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@wdtajn week 2: horrorrrrr 👻
Heavily influenced by @thehairsonthebackofyourneck!!
In case the font is hard to read it says: “Surely she was just hearing things. Surely nothing was behind that wall.”
#first time doing horror WOOOO#This prompt was a challenge bc I like NEVER do horror but I’m pretty happy with how it turned out!#wdtajn#my encanto fanart
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Video Killed The Radio Star (Stu Macher x Reader)
WOOOO I love the scream boys, I really do. So, here is the first part of my Stu Macher x reader!!! Let me know below if you want to be on the tag list for any future parts!
Pairing: Stu Macher x Female! Reader
Warnings: Mentions of a bad relationship with a sibling, slight allusions to sex, but not really
Word Count: 1.3k
The video store: a world of fun and amusement, a place where horror junkies get their fix and young lovers find some background noise. It is also my personal hell. Ever since I got this job at Blockbuster video, I have experienced nothing but boring work shifts. The whole gig is so routine. Checking out horror movies, rom-coms, and pornos all day gets to be a blur, and there’s only so many times that you can try to mop the stickiness off of the floor before you start to lose your mind. The store I work at is a quaint one. It’s small in size, but it has a rather large number of customers. Most of the customers are regulars, the ones who show up every Friday afternoon to get their fix for the week, but sometimes I meet a straggler who got bored enough to finally use their vhs. Today was not one of those days.
As I stocked the romance shelf with the newest chick-flicks and romantic comedies, I heard a strange sound, like a movie had fallen off of one of the shelves. I raised an eyebrow in curiosity as I looked around. No one seemed to be in the store. It was 9:30 PM on a Wednesday. Only thirty minutes until closing, and someone was in the store? A thought popped into my head, “Randy… I know you’re here… come out, what are you doing?” I questioned the open room with a tone of annoyance. Randy Meeks was my co-worker, and I guess he could be a friend. He was funny, but sometimes he just was downright weird. Not a word of response was sent back my way. “Randy, really, it’s not funny,”. Suddenly I felt arms grab my face and cover my eyes. “It’s not Randy,” a familiar voice sang. “STU!” I yelled the man’s name angrily, “You can’t sneak up on people like that, it's terrifying!”. He lowered his arms in defense, “Hey, it was just a joke, it’s not like I’m gonna hurt you or something,” he stated. I let out a sigh, “What do you need, Stu, I gotta get home, we have school tomorrow,”. “Ah-ah, the store doesn’t close for another thirty minutes,” the man tutted. I groaned, Stu is a great friend, but he can be annoying when he wants to. “Of course you would know that,”. I began to look back at the shelf I was stocking, unloading the last of the box of new rentals onto the cold metal, and making sure they were in alphabetical order, though I knew that wouldn’t last long. I knew exactly where Stu would be headed, as it was the same row that almost every teen in Woodsboro frequented: the horror section.
“Do you have Halloween: the Curse of Michael Myers yet?” Stu questioned, flipping through the titles meticulously. The man scanned each movie with a sense of precision. There was always something he was looking for. I didn’t know exactly what his favorite horror genre was, because it seemed to me that he liked them all, and yet, he still scanned every movie’s cover as if he were picking a job to apply to. “Actually, Stu, we may or may not have just gotten our first copy, and I may or may not have rented it out already…” I started with a sense of anxiety, fearing that Stu would be upset by the fact that I had already rented the movie. I don’t know why I felt that I had to forfeit my rental, but something about Stu always made me give in. “But, you can gladly have it, uh just, uh, let me check it back in, so that you can check it out,” I started hastily walking to my bag, but not before my arm was caught by Stu. “You don’t have to do that,” his voice sounded concerned as he pulled me back by my arm. “We could just watch it together,” he said. I blushed in embarrassment as the man still had my arm in a strong grip, and because I could watch a movie with Stu Macher… alone. I’ve never been one to succumb to crushes, but… okay yeah… that’s a lie… I’m like totally infatuated with Stu Macher, but can you blame me. We’ve been friends since elementary school. Billy Loomis, Stu, and I have always been a tight-knit group. Of course, we’ve strayed apart a bit now that I have friends that are girls, but we’re still relatively close, and something about him just always pulls me in, and the cologne he wears is just divine, and his eyes, oh his- “Y/N, Y/N… you alive in there,” “ OH Uh sorry I zoned out for a bit there,” I internally screamed as my cheeks turned blood red. “So what do you say?” the taller asked as he looked at me with puppy-dog eyes. “Oh uh yeah! Of course! We could watch it tomorrow if you’d like, whose house?” I internally begged him to say he could watch it tomorrow. We hadn’t watched a movie alone together… ever. We usually always end up hanging out with Billy, and occasionally, the rest of the gang, but this could be different. “How about I pick you up and we swing by the store to get some snacks, and then we watch it at mine. My parents are gone, so we can take over the living room,” he smirked a little which made me blush a bit more. I brushed any thoughts of romance out of my head, he’s just saying that we don’t have to worry about noise…right…? I nodded my head, “Okay, Stu,” I said with a smile. “You wanna ride home, babe?” Stu asked genuinely. Even though he called almost everyone babe, my heart still did a flutter. “Well if you’re offering…” I trailed off. “Let me close everything up and get my stuff,” I yelled as I was already halfway across the store from him as I went to close down the register.
I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder as I braced myself to experience the chilly Autumn air. Stu opened the door for me as we walked to his car. His car was nice, but rather banged up. He’s quite the chaotic driver. I fastened my seatbelt and sat back staring through the windshield at the town streets as Stu drove. We made light conversation and talked about everything and anything. We brought up stories of past movie nights, and joked about the stupid things we’ve done at parties. As we finally pulled up to my house, I noticed a car parked in the driveway. “Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. “What’s wrong?” Stu faced me now, his previous happy look changing to one of concern. “My sister’s home,” I stated simply. Stu knew all about my sister and everything she had done to me. He instantly put the car back in drive and started to drive away from my house. “Stu, what the fuck are you doing?” I asked, confused. “You’re not going back there with her, I won’t let you,” he said with a grave face. I huffed and sit back in my seat, “So you’re just going to kidnap me instead,” I half-giggled. “Yep, you’re staying at mine, and you’ve got no way out of this,” he proudly exclaimed. “Oh yeah? What if I tuck and roll?”. Stu took that as a personal challenge as he began driving faster, his tires making a loud screeching sound. “STU STU STOP DOING THAT!” I screamed as the man laughed proudly at the fear he made me exhibit. “It’s just a joke babe, chill out,” He giggled. We continued driving until we finally reached the Macher residence.
#stu macher#stu macher fluff#stu macher smut#stu macher x reader#ghostface x reader#scream x reader#scream 1996#scream boys#billy loomis#randy meeks#deputy dewey#sidney prescott#scream franchise#gale weathers#scream movies#scream fanfiction
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woooo hermit horrors week! excited for this one :D
Day One - Season 8/Game Mechanics
cw mind control, temporary character death
Zedaph has never really had a hard time talking anyone into doing something for him. He’s a very persuasive kind of guy, when it comes down to it, and of course the other hermits are always so very helpful, so it doesn’t take much to convince them into whatever scheme he’s cooked up lately.
This really comes in helpful for this season, especially now that his chamber is ready for live hermit experimentation. His first subject is Tango, and it’s an easy job getting him into the chamber— just a little word in his ear, a mere suggestion, really (and a directive to sign the waiver, before they begin), and they’re ready to go. Tango is always so willing to help him out with these science experiments, it’s really very kind of him. It’s one of the reasons why they’re such good friends.
He has to be careful when the subject is actually in the chamber, though— he doesn’t want to taint the experiment. Each solution to the task set before them has to come from the subject’s own pure brain, without any hints or nudges from him. But Zedaph has lots of experience, and the push-to-talk intercom system certainly helps him be a little more deliberate when he speaks.
He gets lots of interesting results from Tango, and sends him on his way with a casual Go ahead and toss yourself in the lava there, sending him up to the bed to respawn and exit.
It’s a few weeks before the chamber is properly reset and cleaned out, and by that time Zedaph has landed on Bdoubleo as the next subject. Bdubs is not as used to helping Zedaph in the lab as Tango is, but a few choice words set him on the right track, and by the end of the session, he is performing marvelously. The results are absolutely incomprehensible, but the process was so very fun that he sends Bdubs off with a suggestion planted in his mind— Just something to think about, but— come back to the lab sometime soon. For some follow-up tests, of course.
Bdubs says he definitely will. Zedaph is very happy that Bdoubleo has discovered such an interest in science. He checks the “willing to return” box on the subject information sheet.
The next subject is Beef, and Beef is such a character in of himself that Zedaph doesn’t even really need to tell him what to do— he’s content to observe through the soundproof glass as Beef goes through the various tasks he’s set. Mumbo, too, is highly independent— though he looks awfully tired, Zedaph notices, marking it down as a note on his clipboard. There’s a certain sluggishness to Mumbo’s movements, and it’s dragging out the series of tests. Zedaph clicks on the mic. “Er, Mumbo? Go ahead and pick up the pace a little bit.” Mumbo speeds up, limbs moving jerkily as they try to keep up with his suddenly galvanized mind. The rest of the tests go by at a much faster tempo, and Zedaph is satisfied with the results. He also marks down a strange and only-just-suppressed urge toward violence from Mumbo, despite the man’s commitment to— what was it again?— right, “Peace, Love, and Plants.”
It’s been a while since the last hermit experiment now, though. For one thing, he hasn’t decided on a new subject. He’s been thinking of giving Xisuma a call and asking him to come over, out of pure curiosity, but it’s not urgent. For another thing, the seismograph has been going absolutely mad lately— there’s been tremors all over the server, with no discernible cause whatever. If this keeps up, Zedaph’s going to have to go out and do some actual field work.
He shudders at the thought.
A rapidly pulsing red light blinks on at the top left of the security monitor screen, just a moment before the proximity alarm goes off. Zedaph whirls around and gets a split-second look at Mumbo looming over him like a bespoke string bean before Bdubs tackles him at the waist and he hits his head on the tile floor. The next few moments come through in dizzy flashes: lab lights, far too bright for suddenly sensitive eyes—being picked up and carried, his head throbbing with each step—an uncomfortable heat radiating near his arm, but he can’t muster the words to tell it to go away.
His stomach suddenly drops and for a moment he flails through empty air before landing with a sickening crunch on the dull white floor. He’s not in instant respawn territory yet, but he’s close, and his kidnappers seem to know this, because he hears shattering glass quite near him, and then comes the bubbly, prickly feeling on his skin that only happens with splash regen and healing potions.
His headache clears after a moment, and he’s able to get to his feet. “Oh, goodness me,” he says, upon realizing where he is.
Tango, Bdubs, Beef, and Mumbo all stand on the other side of the tinted glass, wearing lab coats and looking somewhat vindictive. Mumbo’s got a clipboard and pen.
“This is highly unusual,” Zedaph says, crossing his arms over his chest. “There’s procedures for these things, you know. Standards and that.”
Tango steps over to the desk and keys the intercom. “Hey, Zed, ol’ buddy. I know you’re probably a little confused, here. Let’s just say we didn’t, uh— didn’t appreciate being your little lab experiments very much, my friend.”
“Informed consent is a big part of the scientific process!” Mumbo says, looking up from the clipboard, clearly unaware of the hypocrisy of his statement. The bags under his eyes have grown even deeper since Zedaph last saw him.
“You signed the waiver when I asked,” says Zedaph, but of course they can’t hear him. They take turns putting him through his paces, making him do— well, frankly, they’re quite silly things. He has much better things to be doing with his day. If he could just talk to them—
“Make a contraption that will blow something up,” says Bdubs, and Zedaph sees his chance. He intentionally builds it just a little too close to the glass— not so close that Tango and Mumbo will be able to realize what he’s doing right away, but close enough that the blast has a chance of damaging the barrier.
The TNT, when it goes off, leaves his ears ringing and all his nerves buzzing. But as the smoke clears, Zedaph spots a block of glass up near the corner that has shattered, and he giggles. Perfect!
“Bdoubleo,” he calls, and Bdubs turns to look at him suddenly. “Come in the chamber!” Bdubs immediately pulls out his pick and smashes through the nearest two blocks of glass beside him. He steps through the jagged hole and then pauses, looking confused.
“What was that?”
“This is all really very funny,” Zedaph says to the other three “scientists,” and replaces the glass that Bdubs broke, leaving the hole up at the top. The alarm melts off their faces, and they begin to laugh at Bdubs’ predicament.
“Mumbo,” says Zedaph, and now Mumbo snaps to attention, meeting his gaze through the glass. “I think for the next test, you should have me do something you’ve really, really wanted to do this season but can’t.”
Beef and Tango break out into another round of chuckles.
“Now hold on a minute,” says Bdubs, looking around, panicked.
“Well,” says Mumbo slowly, lowering his clipboard and taking a step closer to the glass. Zedaph nods encouragingly. “I would like you to… describe… how you would go about killing Bdoubleo using only things in this chamber—”
“Hey!” Bdubs screams.
“—and then do it and tell me how good it feels,” Mumbo finishes, all in one breath. Tango lets out a surprised wheeze of laughter, and Beef is wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.
“‘Course,” says Zedaph brightly. “Have to do what I’m told in here, don’t I?”
“No, no, no,” Bdubs says, backing away.
“Come on, Bdubs,” Zedaph coaxes. “Hop up on this dirt block here and stay put.” Bdubs’s face goes slack and he does as Zedaph asks. “Great! Well, Mumbo, the first thing I would do is get him in prime killing position, like so.” He gestures up to where Bdubs is standing, now looking around wildly. Mumbo nods enthusiastically, taking notes down on his clipboard. “And then I would place— er—” He goes digging through the scattered chests in the chamber to find what he’s looking for.
Oh, perfect.
“I would place some obsidian,” he says, triumphantly, sticking the block down next to Bdubs.
“No, no— no, wait,” Bdubs says, desperation clear in his voice.
“You’re killing me, man,” Tango says breathlessly, clutching his ribs. Zedaph tips an invisible hat in his direction and sends him off in gales of laughter again.
“Yes, yes, go on,” Mumbo says impatiently, pen tapping against his clipboard.
“And then I would place one of these,” Zedaph says, pulling the end crystal out of his inventory and setting it hovering over the obsidian base. He swears he sees Mumbo’s eyes light up.
“Go on, then,” Mumbo says, leaning forward eagerly.
“If you say so,” Zedaph says, and detonates the crystal.
It kills him as well as Bdubs, of course, but that only sends him back to his actual bed, and out of the range of the other would-be scientists. That had turned into rather a fun little tangent, actually.
It probably went without saying that none of them would want to come back to the lab, though.
Well. He’d just have to ask.
also on ao3 :D
#hermithorrorweek2023#hermitcraft#zedaph#tangotek#bdoubleo100#vintagebeef#mumbo jumbo#fool writes#is this based on a silly joke bdubs made in that one episode where they're all experimenting on zed? yes#is it also a result of having the silly song zedaph sings stuck in my head since the first time I heard it? also yes#am I sorry? absolutely not
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So on balance I generally do enjoy Mark Millar, and a big part of why I enjoy Mark Millar is that a lot of his superhero stuff demonstrates the same awareness about the genre that Worm does- the sense of an unstable equilibrium, that the center cannot hold in the superhero universe as typically presented. Jupiter's Legacy, Super Crooks, Old Man Logan, Wanted, The Ultimates. Arguably Civil War. I have a whole other post buried in my drafts about how that bleak throughline keeps cropping up in his cape work. Specifically in his cape work, also- the man has written a lot of lighthearted, at times almost cloyingly sincere and optimistic one-off miniseries in other genres. Starlight: The Return Of Duke McQueen, Huck, Chrononauts, Beyond. In tension with this cynicism about the capes is the fact that he also clearly believes that superheroes are really cool, and on some fundamental level a really deeply noble and empowering idea. Even Wanted, which is probably the most thoroughly tasteless thing of his that I've read all the way through, I recall as having had this interesting subtext of anger over the fact that there's an audience for a superhero work as cynical and grotesque as Wanted. ("Fine. We took all the whimsy and wonder and derring-do you claim to have outgrown out back and shot it. The corpse is cooling. Are you happy yet? Dark enough yet? Mature enough yet? This is what you wanted right?")
Anyway, I think Kick-Ass the comic suffers gigantically from a failure to break in one direction or another, in regard to that tension. It gets very, very close to saying useful and interesting things about the genre at several points but keeps undercutting itself by transforming back into the object of its own attack.
There's this initial line of questioning, right, which is, "what kind of person, in real life, might actually try this? How would it go?" And the comic has some compellingly miserable answers to that question! Everyone in costume is chasing the same power fantasy, clinging to the idea of being somebody. Dave is, in his own words, motivated by "the right combination of loneliness and despair," and he's not competent. He alternates between minor wins and brutal hospitalizations, the first two issues and change is just the world punishing him for being dumb enough to try this, and for the most part he's a LARPer, a self-identified asshole. Red Mist is a rich kid playing with his father's money. Big Daddy and Hit-girl are framed as the "real deal", genuinely competent in their ability to dish out violence, and the comic to some extent has the self-awareness to recognize that people who were actually any good at this would be even more horrifying than the LARPers. The Reveal that Big Daddy was an accountant- that he made up a tragic backstory and made his daughter a human weapon in order to pursue an escapist fantasy- genuinely lands like a meteor!
But it fucks it up, because it also needs to be cool, cool enough to keep our attention, and so it pulls an about face. The horror of Hit-girl gets subsumed by the realization that she's also the coolest thing in the whole book, almost loadbearing in terms of having actually cool and interesting things happen on-panel, and so the end of the book turns into the exact kind of superviolent revenge story it was initially skewering as unrealistic and disconnected from the much more grounded grief and loss Dave is experiencing at the start of the book. Dave's costumed escapades goes from being an obviously stupid and egotistical attempt to claw back control of his life to... an actual method by which he claws back control of his life, and not in a way that feels terribly well-earned!
The sequels double down on this- alternating between "in real life this would be cheap and stupid and tinged with anticlimax" and "woooo! Let's ape Tarantino until something cool happens!" and honestly, that feels less worthy of analysis because what I'm pretty sure happened there is that the movie blew up and created A Demand For More Kick-Ass. In general what it feels like fundamentally happened here is that you ask, "what if superheroes were real," you land on the answer of "they'd look stupid, be stupid and die badly," but what does that leave you with? It's not like that wasn't the obvious answer already and it's definitely not eight issues of material. He can't pull the trigger on having everyone involved die badly in meanspirited ways to drive the point home, and he never quite threads the needle back to the reconstructive middle ground he badly wants the book to inhabit, the "real heroes work in soup kitchens and look out for their neighbors" area. Things just happen.
That said, the gag about the astroturfed swear-word "Tunk" is fantastic. 10/10, no notes
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Woooo I’m getting through these… so, fun fact, there’s another two lil snippets covering the same time frame as this one, but they’re gonna be over on the other lil series on AO3 because they’re a) longer and b) directly the Kabumisu storyline
So, y’know, check that out and go follow that series too if you’re into that, I’m gonna try and get the not-smut one out first because it pretty much covers what’s going on during the day for this bit, and where Mithrun’s gonna end up
But for today, our favourite rogue teleporter is going extra rogue! Luckily it’s not like Kabru was sleeping well either, so he can wrangle him back to bed.
And cuddle. For body-heat reasons, obviously.
Warnings: body horror in the context of nightmares, neglect of Mithrun by himself and also his caregivers
AO3 link:
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After Dinner Mints - Definitely Not Watching You Sleep
If he was honest with himself, Kabru had assumed he wouldn’t have much to do with the Canaries now that everything was over. Unless they still planned on arresting him and returning him to Milsiril, but that wasn’t to be (thankfully).
He knew they’d be staying around until the dragon had been fully eaten, and then he assumed they’d sail back west and he’d never see any of them again.
If he was even more honest with himself, that thought ached, just a little. Which was ridiculous; he’d known the captain barely more than a week, and the others for the change between that and the final battle. They were hardly close comrades.
It was probably just trauma bonding; they’d been through a lot together, and Captain Mithrun especially had saved his life half a dozen times. And relied on him for just as much, if not more.
But they were out of the dungeon, and Captain Mithrun’s squad would obviously take over his care again; why would they leave their vulnerable captain anywhere near Kabru? He’d already kidnapped him once.
And then Laios had come and asked him where the captain was, and they’d found him under a tree. Waiting to die, and while he wasn’t taking any actions to speed up the process, he also wasn’t willing to do anything to slow it.
Kabru had not taken it well; he could admit that much, but since it had also worked he wasn’t about to apologise either.
It had seemed obvious that he’d be the one to stay with Mithrun and take care of him that day. He’d half expected to be turned away the next day, and mostly only went to the clearing that morning to check the captain was still moving.
But no, the prisoners had welcomed him cheerfully, and even directed him to go and find the captain himself when he wasn’t already up a day later. (With ulterior motives; all four of them shared a damn tent, and Cithis had been snuggled close enough to Mithrun that their silhouette almost looked like one multilimbed creature.)
He’d even officially been added to the captain’s care roster by Flamela, the other Canary captain who seemed to hate pretty much everyone. So by the third day, he’d fallen into an easy routine: get up, grab a cheap breakfast at the inn, and wander to the Canaries’ encampment to get the captain’s schedule from Pattadol.
Officially, he’d have about a four hour shift at some point in the day where he’d be expected to come and take care of the captain. Unofficially, he could wander over pretty much whenever he liked, and the convicts were all very happy to “trade”. Not that they ever came back on his shift, of course.
Not that he really wanted them to either. Kabru was no cook, and while he did want to help, he… wasn’t good at anything relevant. Anything except dealing with Captain Mithrun.
He could carry pots and pans, he could wash dishes, he could move around vegetables and fruits and touching the actual dragon meat made him want to scream but when it was frozen he could pretend it wasn’t meat at all. He could, theoretically, just peel vegetables all day and be helping.
But he was good with Captain Mithrun, and apparently no one else was, because this morning, on the fourth day he’d been up early and gone for a walk before the sun rose (there may have been dragon-meat related dreams involved). And he’d found the captain pulling apart more of the dragon’s carcass, although not for long, since he’d collapsed half way through Kabru trying to argue him out of the hole.
It was deep enough that Kabru had to put him on the elevator they’d been using to get the meat out, then climb the ladder and haul him up that way. And the bastard had tried to roll off the platform. Couldn’t even stand, and he still wanted to keep going.
Luckily Kabru’d had the foresight to put him in the middle, so he’d had the whole thing up and on the ground before Captain Mithrun reached the edge. Hauling the stubborn asshole up and onto his back, Kabru frowned around. Someone should have been keeping an eye on him.
“Who’s meant to be at your tent, Captain?” Because of course, Captain Mithrun hadn’t been set up with the rest of the Canaries, down at one of the beaches. He’d kicked up a fuss the first night (well, kept turning around and walking away the second no one was physically holding him, and Pattadol had declared it not worth the trouble), and wardens got their own tents anyway, so his was just off the clearing and a little further in the woods. The plan was to both keep the carcass out of his line of sight and to keep anyone from wandering into it by accident.
But he needed someone else to make him sleep anyway, so Kabru had made sure a second cot was inside so they wouldn’t have to leave him alone. Of course, Kabru had his bed in his usual room at the inn, and wasn’t really all that into camping so he hadn’t pushed for a night shift.
He didn’t know sleeping spells anyway. Although apparently they weren’t particularly effective.
Captain Mithrun huffed impatiently against his neck, but didn’t have the energy to try and poke him around.
“No one. Cithis put me to sleep. I assume she left,” he grumbled almost inaudibly, and Kabru bumped him a little higher to try and rouse him and also move the grumbles closer to his ear.
He was pretty sure the captain also called him an oaf under his breath, but he couldn’t prove it.
Honestly, he’d assumed Cithis would especially enjoy an opportunity for a more private place to sleep when he’d put the second cot in. He’d have to… half way to the tent, he paused.
“Did she do it wrong?” He asked, suddenly uncertain.
The Canaries had been drugging or enchanting Captain Mithrun to sleep for fourteen years. Cithis specifically had him sleeping in late yesterday. He shouldn’t have been up at all.
“No. Doesn’t always work,” the captain huffed, his head flopping forward so a pointy chin stabbed at Kabru’s shoulder.
“That’s more of a reason for her to stick around in case it needs redoing,” Kabru grumbled, but got going again anyway.
He’d probably just exhausted his mana again, especially if he’d been going part way through the night. Sleep wasn’t going to be optional now, even if Kabru had to watch over him personally.
At least the tent was protected from the early morning chill with a few additional enchantments, and they had a proper cot along with the bedroll. Which was still Falin Touden’s, so no one had done anything at all to the set up Kabru had made himself.
He’d be annoyed about it later. For now, he moved the captain carefully onto the bed and hissed in irritation as he noticed something else.
The captain had been in full uniform, so Kabru had assumed he’d dressed himself as part of getting up. If he had, he hadn’t bothered putting on his fucking boots.
The elf was barefoot, and had been standing on frozen meat for who knew how long. His feet were a nasty purplish grey that did not belong on a human of any variety, even one as pale as the captain. Cupping one with both hands, he drew a line of pressure with one thumb and waited for the white mark left behind to fade.
It didn’t.
Captain Mithrun frowned at him.
“Ow.” It didn’t sound particularly emphatic or like an actual exclamation of pain, but that didn’t mean anything.
Beginning to actually worry, Kabru pushed the elf down onto his back, sat on the end of the cot, and tugged up his tunic so he could press both fucking freezing feet directly to his torso. Captain Mithrun tried to pull them away, but Kabru held on tight.
“I know it’s uncomfortable, Captain, and probably painful, but your feet are dangerously cold. You can’t just stand on a block of ice without your boots, what were you thinking?” Kabru asked sharply, well aware that it was probably a futile question.
He wasn’t sure if Captain Mithrun could even feel hot or cold, but one of the first things that went with this kind of injury was sensation. Warming back up was always painful too, but at least Kabru’s body heat couldn’t accidentally burn him.
He did have to shift position though, wincing as he moved the captain’s feet to a spot they hadn’t already leached all the warmth from.
It took a moment for him to notice he hadn’t actually gotten any kind of response at all, and he frowned up at the captain’s face again. Captain Mithrun looked… embarrassed? He wasn’t even pouting as hard as he had before.
When he met Kabru’s eyes, he even looked away again.
“I wasn’t. I just…” the next words from anyone else would probably have been “wanted to help”, and it made Kabru desperately curious about what the captain would say, but apparently he didn’t know the end of the sentence either. He fell silent again.
Huffing softly, Kabru rubbed at the tops of both feet quickly, hoping to generate some extra warmth. The good news was that they were already less grey than they had been before; they were still more purple than a normal skin tone, but they were picking up more red.
Captain Mithrun just stared at them, brows puckered like they’d let him down rather than the other way round. He also kept shifting them uncomfortably, which made Kabru’s fingers catch on his toes, and Kabru was running out of stomach that wasn’t already cold to the touch.
Gritting his teeth, he shifted Mithrun’s feet a little higher at the next change of position, tugging his shirt and tunic back down over them as much as he could. The captain pulled another face, toes curling against the upper part of Kabru’s chest, and he covered both feet quickly over his clothes with his hands.
“I know, Captain, bear with me. Maybe try to remember this part the next time you’re wandering off somewhere and check you have your boots?” He tried, more than a little exasperated.
Mithrun shot him a sharp look, which faded almost immediately into that same strange little frown, his eye drifting straight back off Kabru’s face. His feet still felt icy against Kabru’s skin.
Maybe he should actually get someone who knew some healing magic… except he didn’t want the captain walking around anymore, and leaving him alone was out for obvious reasons. He’d have to carry him, and Kabru was at least aware that he himself should warm his core back up before leaving the warmed tent for the cold night.
He took a moment to bring one of Captain Mithrun’s feet back out of his shirt, checking the colour and doing the pressure test again. Definitely more red than purple now, and the white line he drew began fading back to red as he watched, if not as fast as he’d like.
Still, it wouldn’t hurt to get someone to check later today. Pattadol, probably. She was a good healer, and would deal with Cithis leaving the captain alone for the night too. Because that absolutely wasn’t happening again.
Letting out a little sigh of relief, Kabru cupped one frozen foot in both hands and half smiled at the captain.
“The good news is I don’t think there’s any harm done, but we’ll get Pattadol to check in the morning. If they keep hurting or you get any numbness or tingling you have to tell someone, okay?” He asked, not really hoping for much of anything.
Captain Mithrun sunk down like he was trying to hide in his own tight collar, frowning past Kabru at the wall of the tent. Even the quiet “I’m fine” was less annoyed or bored than usual.
Kabru’s smile widened in spite of himself. Now that he’d gotten the sudden panic under control and the worry with it, he had to admit that the captain was kind of sweet when he obviously felt bad about something. Like a little kid who hadn’t expected to need rescue.
That raised a new worry, because Kabru had a sudden dark suspicion that he was playing the role of Milsiril in that little analogy and he did not like it. He’d been in the captain’s place more often than not with his stepmother, although he’d like to believe he’d been less careless with his own safety.
He’d like to. He wasn’t sure he actually believed it.
Clearing his throat, he pulled the captain’s other foot out for a quick check. Both were definitely looking better already, still starkly red instead of their usual pallor but at least his circulation had started up again. The white lines left by his fingers faded, still not quickly, but they filled in with red as he watched.
“I wasn’t out long,” Mithrun put in quietly, his eye on Kabru’s face until the moment that Kabru looked up to meet it, and then it skittered away again. His lower lip slid out in a pout that was definitely less irritated than usual. “I wasn’t awake long. I just. Didn’t wait.”
His gaze skittered over to the door of the tent and Kabru sighed softly, covering his feet with both hands again and tucking them into his lap. He wasn’t about to remove any layers to give the captain direct skin access there, but it was the warmest spot he had and the heat in the tent would help too.
“Honestly Captain, you shouldn’t have had to. I’m just glad you got… dressed…” about to shake his head, Kabru stopped, brows drawing down into a frown.
One of the things Mithrun had been emphatic about was that if he had a routine, he could usually follow the steps. When he was in a dungeon or on a mission, that broke the routine, and carving the dragon had been a singular mission for him until now.
But when he had a dungeon or a mission, he didn’t do any steps.
And now he’d actually taken the initiative to pull a corner of the blanket from under his body and tugged it over his head. Kabru’s lips twitched again, but he got the urge to smile under control very quickly.
And helped the captain rearrange the blanket so that he was wrapped in it on all sides to keep what little body heat he had in. Once the elf was securely burrito’d (except for his feet, which Kabru was keeping custody of until they weren’t noticeably cold against skin), he rested a hand gently on a covered knee.
“Captain, you didn’t get dressed did you?”
The top half of his head having been excavated during the wrapping, Mithrun made another attempt to turtle back into it, his lone eye peeking out at Kabru.
“No.” It was muffled, but still audible. And honestly, even the idea that the captain could be embarrassed by his own behaviour was news to Kabru; new enough that it might not be the actual explanation.
He’d never shown any indications when Kabru had literally caught him mid collapse, or even really any gratitude. Even hiding to avoid the nagging would be a good sign though, since it might be part of a desire to avoid it.
Usually he just bitched about it until Kabru shut up or was distracted by something trying to eat them.
That little revelation could wait though, since now Kabru was suddenly angry.
“Have you even had a change of clothes? We’re not in the dungeon anymore, Captain, I understand you’re still on a mission but there’s no reason you can’t have clean clothes or comfortable sleeping things! Didn’t Cithis even try?!”
On the ships there wasn’t a practical way to do any kind of laundry, and thanks to the changeling spores Kabru had actually washed himself and his clothing a lot more in their last dungeon adventure than he usually would. Wearing the same things for days at a time wasn’t a problem, when there wasn’t any alternative.
They were practically in town. There were plenty of alternatives.
Captain Mithrun poked his head out a little further, brows drawn down as he examined Kabru through his dark eye. Whatever he was looking for, he either found it or gave up quickly, and lay back.
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t mind, and it saves time.”
Frustration rising, Kabru forced it back down and took a few deep, calming breaths. There was half a chance he’d ordered her not to make him change in the first place, although she shouldn’t have listened. It wasn’t like she was particularly diligent with orders.
Either way, getting angry or upset with him was pointless. It wouldn’t do anything useful, and wouldn’t make him more likely to listen to anything else Kabru said. At most, he’d get angry back and that would be much worse.
Five slow, deep breaths later and Kabru shook his head, looking around the tent.
“Do you have sleeping clothes, Captain? Whatever you’d usually use?” He had no idea how much it’d be, given how little time Canaries in the field spent with any laundry beyond whatever cleaning spells someone might know, but surely there was something.
The captain stared at him for a long moment, then shook his head. Didn’t expound on it or explain, but Kabru had already spotted a solution.
Laios’ shirt was still bunched in a corner of the tent.
Tucking the captain’s feet carefully into the blanket, he hurried to grab it, shaking it out and frowning at it. It had been cleaned at least once since everything had ended, which was good. It might not be pristine anymore, but it was better than nothing. And, being in the tent, it was warmer than the clothes Mithrun was actually wearing.
Turning back to the bed, he looked at the wrapped and round bundle of elf and hesitated again. Would asking the captain to change now do more harm than good?
It’d depend if he’d been sweating into his other clothes, because if they were wet they’d have to come off. Honestly, Kabru should have worried about that sooner, but he’d been distracted by the state of his feet. If they were that bad, how bad was the rest of him?
Chewing on his lower lip, Kabru sat back on the edge of the cot and frowned at the captain, who was just staring at the ceiling. In the end, he had to ask. It was just simpler.
“Can you feel the cold, Captain?”
Captain Mithrun glanced over at him again, then back to the tent.
“Yes. I just-”
“Don’t care, I understand,” Kabru agreed, sagging a little in relief. That would help. “I do care though, Captain. If you get sick, you won’t be able to move or do anything, even use your mana. So we have to get you warm again, right?”
There was a long moment where Mithrun looked over again, actually keeping eye contact as he examined Kabru. Who tried not to visibly fret. With the demon, reframing things to follow the captain’s desire had always resulted in immediate compliance.
Maybe even his desire to help Falin be eaten wasn’t a whole desire yet. Not so powerful as his need to find the demon again, certainly.
But finally he nodded, shuffling under the blanket for a while. Kabru was about to ask what he was doing when a hand finally emerged, pale and cold.
“The cape too. More layers will help.”
He managed to get changed without actually getting out of his blanket wrapping, passing out the cold and slightly frosted armour instead of just dropping the blanket when Kabru pointed out he’d need the heat.
In the meantime, Kabru found a second uniform under the cot, with clean trousers, underwear, and socks that he immediately passed over, along with the extra cape. The one he’d used for cutting was out of the question.
The captain let Kabru check his temperature without question, at his temples and then both his arms, and a finger down the back of the overlarge shirt to get a feel for his core.
The elf always felt cold to Kabru, but at least the rest of him wasn’t so badly off as his feet had been. It really mustn’t have been long, but it shouldn’t have happened at all.
What if Kabru hadn’t had that nightmare? What if he hadn’t gone for an early walk? Who would even have found the captain, and when?
Did the Canaries even have an established night shift? What the hell did they think the second cot was for? Why was Kabru the only person even trying to account for the captain’s needs?!
Shaking his head, Kabru forced himself to let it go. He could have a word with Pattadol in a few more hours when the sun was fully up, and. They.
No, that wouldn’t work. Cithis definitely Did Not Like Pattadol, and going through her wouldn’t make Cithis want to listen. He’d have to find a way to appeal to her self interest directly; maybe asking her if she could heal Captain Mithrun, and see the risk herself.
It wasn’t like Kabru would always be around to catch him when he was doing something dangerous.
And since he’d be sticking around here for the next few hours, and also needed to warm up (and try to get the captain to sleep)… Glancing around, Kabru fetched the second unused blanket from the other cot, then nodded to the captain.
“I’m cold now too. We’ll warm up faster if we use both blankets and share body heat, if you don’t mind?” Asking was mostly a formality, since the captain didn’t seem to care who did anything, but Kabru wasn’t going to stop trying.
Having desires could be like a muscle, so encouraging him to care about anything in any way might be helpful later on.
This time, Captain Mithrun considered him for a moment, then nodded and opened his blanket burrito. Kabru was about to climb in when he realized there was one important concern first; how the hell they were going to position themselves after.
Ideally, he’d like to get the captain lying down and see if he could sleep some more. That’d make tucking the ends of both blankets in more complicated, but they could do it. But it would also but a limit on the comfortable positions they could be in, if it was going to be a while to heat up.
He was probably overthinking it. After a moment’s thought, he pulled off his coat and tunic, and his own boots, leaving him in just his shirt and pants. It’d make it easier to share his heat with the captain. Then he wrapped the other blanket around his shoulders and sat on the edge of the cot.
“Your back to my chest should be the easiest, I think. If we lie down, maybe you can get some more sleep?”
Captain Mithrun gave him a very flat look at that, but since it was pretty much the same look he’d been given the first time he suggested a foot rub could help the captain sleep, Kabru ignored it. Being warm and comfortable was a pretty good soporific, especially when someone was already exhausted.
“You’re awake.”
That caught him off guard a little, although Captain Mithrun was already shuffling to lie down on the bedroll, keeping some of the blanket under him. Kabru fussed for a moment to get it under them both, trying to decide how to answer.
It wasn’t exactly a cogent argument. It was pretty much what that little kid he’d compared the captain to earlier would say. But… he wanted Captain Mithrun to feel respected, like his wants and needs were important enough for him to care about.
And. Maybe. Mithrun might be the only person who’d understand about the nightmares. Or at least the only person who wouldn’t judge him for having them.
Sliding carefully in behind the captain, Kabru waited until they were both mostly balanced on the cot while he tried to find the words.
“I… couldn’t sleep either, but probably for different reasons. I had a nightmare.”
There was a long moment, then the captain’s back relaxed and pressed against him. Pulling his own blanket over them both, Kabru wrapped an arm around him, enjoying the warmth of another person. He’d been sleeping alone for too long.
“About Utaya?” Mithrun asked softly, something tight and sad under the words. Kabru’s arm tightened reflexively around him at the words, holding him close.
Like the past might come and take this person away too.
He forced a short chuckle, shaking his head. Not being able to see the elf’s face helped. He didn’t have to worry about what he was thinking.
“No, actually… not exactly. I’m used to those. I used to have them a lot more, when I was younger. This one was just… about what we’re doing now.”
Mithrun made a noise that he could tell himself was inquisitive, although it was probably just an acknowledgement. Kabru pressed on anyway.
“I dreamed about eating the dragon meat. There was so much of it, and I couldn’t say no, but the more I ate the more scales kept coming up through my skin, and I scratched them off but then I had to eat those too, until my nails were claws and my teeth were too sharp and… and then…” the words had been easy until that point, spilling faster and faster but suddenly they were choking him.
One cool hand came and pressed over his, where he was holding the captain… probably way too tightly, it was probably uncomfortable, and he forced his grip to loosen but Mithrun’s hand held his in place.
“And then?” The elf asked softly, his voice still calm and even. Not judging. Not disgusted, or annoyed. Not pitying or condescending.
Kabru buried his face in the top of Mithrun’s head and breathed for a long moment, forcing himself to calm down. To let his heart stop racing.
“And then it wasn’t dragon meat I was eating,” he whispered against the soft waves of dulled silver.
He’d have wondered if the captain heard him at all, except that the elf’s hand tightened over his for a moment. Then it peeled his hand away, pulling it up and out of the blankets where Mithrun could examine it with both of his.
Kabru had never really noticed how much smaller Mithrun’s hands were than his before. Most of his acquaintance with the captain had involved being very hands on, grabbing the captain or carrying him when he’d fallen or passed out. Captain Mithrun was a pretty small guy, though he was solidly built for an elf and heavier than he looked.
His hands were rough too, hardened and battle scarred, and not the most delicate where they turned Kabru’s hand this way and that, pressing at the ends of his fingers and sketching the knuckles.
They were so much smaller. He could probably hold both of the captain’s wrists in one hand, or cup his hands together and fully contain both of Mithrun’s inside. The contrast of pale skin against his brown made the difference all the more stark, and he found himself watching with equal attention as Mithrun examined his hand.
Then the captain pulled it back under the blankets and placed it against his chest again.
“No scales or claws.” It was so incongruous that Kabru blinked, taking hold of the elf automatically.
“What… Captain, I know it was just a dream. I didn’t think I was actually going to…” he trailed off, trying not to sound too annoyed. Maybe it had been a mistake to mention it.
Captain Mithrun shook his head, pressing his hand to the back of Kabru’s.
“You don’t dream, under sleeping potions. Or sleeping spells when they’re done right. You’re not supposed to. But… I do. Sometimes. And the dreams don’t go away just because I wake up.” His fingers traced the backs of Kabru’s slowly, then pressed more firmly again.
Kabru’s mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to process the weight of that revelation. He’d known that sleeping potions and spells didn’t usually let people dream, it was one of the reasons you weren’t supposed to use them all the time to sleep, but…
Could it be something the demon had done? Left Mithrun with unusually strong or vivid dreams, too powerful to be blocked by the magic?
And his first thought had been to comfort Kabru. Not by telling him that it was just a dream, or hadn’t been real, or any of the patronizing crap he already knew.
He’d taken the fear seriously, had physically checked, and made sure there really was nothing there even when they both knew there couldn’t be.
What the hell did the captain dream about?
For some reason Kabru couldn’t bring himself to ask, the words trapped under a sudden lump in his throat. He wrapped his arms tighter around the elf, held him close and was sure Mithrun made a soft, almost pleased sound in response.
“I… understand. Thank you, captain.”
Mithrun made another quiet, contented noise, leaning further back into Kabru. He felt warmer already, the places where they touched much warmer than the rest even under the blankets.
Kabru had left his bed looking for a distraction, because the thought of trying to sleep again with that in his head was too much to bear. The thought of trying again now still wasn’t exactly appealing, but he couldn’t deny it felt… easier. Better.
Less terrifying. Less like he might actually throw up. The gentle warmth of the captain in his arms, the heartbeat he could feel against his hand and his chest, were grounding. Soothing.
He could only hope it was working as well for Captain Mithrun as the silence stretched between them, comfortable and familiar. It was a little surprising to realize that he actually felt safe, even in a tent in the middle of the woods.
Of course, knowing that every monster had fled as far and as fast as it could days ago helped. Cuddling up to the undisputed scariest person on the Island helped more.
It was interesting, actually; the dichotomy Mithrun represented. In an actual fight, Kabru was completely sure he’d never seen anyone more blatantly terrifying; there was just no defence against wayward teleportation. If Mithrun decided to swap a rock for your brain, the only thing that could stop him was his own lack of depth perception.
His casting was quick, precise, and almost instantaneous; if he had a loose object to send, the only question was if he would miss. It was hard to imagine anything being able to beat him, even after watching him go toe to toe with the demon twice and fail… actually, maybe moreso. The demon was basically magic incarnate, infinite power given form, and if violence was capable of killing it Kabru was pretty sure Mithrun would have succeeded.
He’d diced it finer than the dragon and even running on empty would have killed Marcille at full dungeon lord power if not for the demon protecting her. He was the epitome of an unstoppable force.
An unstoppable force who’d give himself frostbite because it didn’t occur to him to put on boots before standing on a block of ice. Who’d starve to death from sheer ignorance of his own body in a week. Who had no choice but to rely on others for every single one of his needs, all day, every day, because he couldn’t feel them.
Captain Mithrun really was the perfect weapon; completely impotent without someone else to wield him.
And Kabru had to believe he could find the human being under all of that, the determination and reckless power, and apathy and emptiness. The man he saw in those flickers of emotion that took over the captain’s face at the first stirring in his heart; usually irritation, stubbornness, or anger, but there were others too.
Smugness was probably the first thing Kabru had ever seen break the intensity/apathy combo that Mithrun usually wore; handing a room full of mercenaries their asses as easily as if he was herding children. There were other moments too though.
More since the dungeons fell, which was understandable; they had more to feel good about. Kabru had never expected to see Captain Mithrun cry, or really to see him laugh either, but he’d seen both almost at once.
There were the softer smiles too, and those were what Kabru held onto when the captain was being extra difficult. Usually uncertain, usually small, every single one held the promise that actual, genuine happiness was something that Mithrun could feel again. That he could still find joy in life.
(If pressed, Kabru would admit that he had some less than selfless reasons for clinging to those moments, and pushing so hard for Mithrun to recover. If someone as obviously, tangibly broken as the captain could still find worth and purpose in his life… well, obviously Kabru could too. How could he not?
Captain Mithrun couldn’t fix himself breakfast with a knife to his throat. Kabru couldn’t make a good breakfast necessarily, but he could get by.)
It wasn’t until his musings were interrupted by a soft, familiar snore that Kabru realized Mithrun had fallen asleep again, even without a foot rub to relax him. He wondered belatedly if he should have asked more questions about why the captain had woken; had it just been a shoddy sleeping spell? Nightmares of his own?
Hell, had Cithis not bothered to toss a blanket over him? The tent wasn’t cold exactly, especially not compared to the night, but with nothing but his uniform between him and the air, the captain didn’t exactly run warm.
He’d have to ask later. In the morning, once the sun had fully risen and it was actually a decent time to get up.
Actually, he’d probably have to tell the captain’s squad to bugger off and leave them alone for a few more hours, once they got up. The Canaries rose early, so it’d probably only be a couple more hours at most until they came looking.
As much as he’d like to get the captain’s feet looked at, he’d rather the elf get some more sleep first. It wasn’t like he had the mana for a full day of continuous teleport-cutting, so getting a lie in would probably do more for him than rising early. And it wasn’t like Kabru had anywhere else to be; ideally, he’d like Captain Mithrun to sleep until he woke on his own.
Hopefully they’d come in before calling out, and he could tell them to leave the captain alone for a while.
Which. Would mean they’d find them both on the cot together.
A perverse part of Kabru kind of wished he’d taken his pants off; they’d wanted to tease him when Cithis had the captain in her bed, it would only be fitting to repay them in kind. Of course, it wouldn’t actually fluster the fucking elves.
Actually, it’d probably make Fleki cackle and definitely wake the captain, and even if the others wouldn’t be so loud, they’d certainly have commentary for him later. So it was probably for the best that he hadn’t.
Still, it wasn’t like he could miss them opening the tent. Despite being a chronic overthinker, it wasn’t like there was much to distract him just lying in bed with the captain in his arms.
It was just… peaceful. Warm, comfortable, and the rise and fall of another’s breathing to soothe him. Kabru found himself drifting in a haze of contentment, and hurriedly shook himself awake again.
But then again, why bother?
He’d barely gotten more than a couple of hours of sleep himself all told, and while he’d insisted they lie down for the captain to sleep (which had worked), being warm and tucked up in bed was working on him too.
It wouldn’t be hard. And if he did have nightmares again… well, he’d found out years ago (by Rin throwing things at him) that he was a grabber and a cuddler, especially when he had nightmares. And he already had Captain Mithrun held close; if either of them moved away they’d probably fall right off the cot.
If nothing else, he’d have someone with him. Be able to reassure himself, have someone to hold until he could breathe again. He’d hate to wake the captain up though.
Of course, he might not have the nightmare again. It had felt inevitable before, made him want to vomit just staying in his bed below the inn, and he’d had to get out. Not anymore though.
Now it felt far away and far less frightening; pushed back by Mithrun’s absolutely wild reaction. It felt silly that he’d been that upset in the first place, with Mithrun quietly reassuring him that he definitely wasn’t actually becoming a dragon, but not in a bad way. It even pulled a smile to his face.
And, well, it was hard to imagine what could frighten him while he held the most dangerous person on the Island to his chest, snoring like a squirrel.
Pressing his face to Mithrun’s hair to hide from the encroaching dawn, Kabru pressed his eyes shut.
Just a couple of minutes. Maybe an hour.
None of the convicts would deliberately wake them up if they saw he was there too; it was a solid 50-50 that Lycion or Fleki would just sit their asses down and wait to watch them wake up and see what happened, but Otta and Cithis would probably just leave and decide how to try and make his life hell with it later.
Since Kabru was already planning on making their lives uncomfortable for leaving the captain unattended, he wasn’t worried about it.
So waking up about four hours later to find himself and Mithrun festooned from head to toe with daisy chains wasn’t exactly expected, but nor was it hugely surprising.
**
The day itself was unremarkable; he spoke to Cithis early on, which went. As well as could be expected. She refused to see the problems even while casting a healing spell on the captain’s feet (mostly just to be safe; there didn’t seem to be any lasting damage).
Kabru was fully aware she was baiting him by suggesting he simply take over the night shift again himself if he didn’t trust anyone else to do it, but honestly? That had become his goal somewhere between falling asleep in Mithrun’s cot and chasing the captain and Cithis down.
He couldn’t force the Canaries to care about their captain. Or to realize that the easiest answer wasn’t always the best, though he hoped spending more time with Senshi might help there.
He could take matters into his own hands, and personally make sure the captain didn’t try anything like that again. Let Cithis think she was manipulating him.
Of course, having them both sleep squished up on one cot wasn’t a long term solution; there was a reason he’d brought a second. But through the course of the day, he also realized that he probably couldn’t trust the captain to wake him up if he was up early.
Kabru could put his cot in front of the entrance of the tent, and the captain could teleport out. And possibly get himself stuck in something. But Kabru already knew how to keep him from teleporting. Contact with a large enough surface.
Explaining it to the captain himself was a little more complicated; Captain Mithrun just stared at him blankly, standing to his full height inside the tent (which Kabru was a little jealous of; he had to hunch).
“You want to what?” He asked flatly. Kabru stifled a smile.
“To move your cot back and turn it, so I can set up the other one at a right angle to it. That way once you’ve gone to sleep, I can sleep with my head on your chest, so that if you wake up it’ll wake me too and I can help you.” It was an ingenious solution if Kabru said so himself; much less touchy feely than they’d had that morning, it’d give them both at least a semblance of personal space.
Sure, he’d still have to be invading Mithrun’s, but he had to anyway to keep him from teleporting away. But at an angle like that, he wouldn’t be able to grab or pull the elf into another hug in his sleep, even if he did have another nightmare.
Just his head had to be less annoying for the captain to deal with, right?
And Captain Mithrun clearly agreed, since he just stared at Kabru for a while and then helped him move the beds into position! Okay, he didn’t actually say anything to agree or disagree, but he actively helped set things up, which was the same thing.
It even felt comfortingly routine for Kabru to sit at the end of the cot and give the captain his foot rub, feeling him relax gradually under his hands. He’d been a little worried that sleeping in that morning might have thrown the captain’s schedule off, but it clearly hadn’t; he fell asleep as quickly and easily as usual.
Getting to then move to the other cot, even if he did shift himself up so that his head rested on Mithrun’s chest instead of his pillow, was less routine. Part of him still wanted to sit watch, but there was no point.
There were no monsters nearby, and no one on the Island likely to try and start trouble with the Canaries. Even if there was, Kabru was a pretty light sleeper. There was no way Mithrun would be able to slip away from him either. If he moved, Kabru would wake up, and could help him either get back to sleep or deal with whatever issue had arisen.
If nothing else, Kabru was sure he’d help the captain get a better night’s sleep.
**
Mithrun wasn’t exactly sure what woke him, which was pretty much his normal. Most of the time it was likely as simple as the sleeping spell running out, or potion wearing off, even if it was early. But he never could tell.
It took a moment for him to remember that he’d not had either that night, which was a new puzzle. It was still dark, and while his sense of time wasn’t the best, it didn’t seem like it had been long since he fell asleep.
Kabru was lying with his head on Mithrun’s chest, still deeply asleep, which was. Possibly related. It made it a little harder to breathe, and Mithrun took a few deep test breaths. Didn’t seem to be a major problem though.
He lay in the dark for a while, watching the outline of Kabru’s head in the monochrome world of twilight. He understood the purpose, of course; that Kabru would be awakened if he moved, so he couldn’t wander off alone again.
Tedious. Potentially effective, although he was plainly awake now and Kabru wasn’t.
Although. It wasn’t like he wanted to move. Or had anywhere else to be. Did he?
It’d be a pain to dislodge Kabru. So maybe it was effective in keeping him in bed at least.
Slowly, unbidden, a hand rose as if to rub at the spot on his chest that was usually the most hollow, but occasionally sparked a glow of warmth, or sorrow. It was warm now, in a soft, gentle way, but Kabru’s head was directly over it.
As if the tallman knew that was where the best path to Mithrun’s desires lay.
(Well. He assumed it was the best path. It was where all the feelings he didn’t understand lay? And he wasn’t sure he remembered enough of desire to understand it.)
His fingers stroked through messy dark curls instead, which was an interesting sensation. Kabru’s hair was soft and thick. Pretty and boyish, the curls combining with wide blue eyes and a charming smile that made him look almost elven.
With his head turned away like this, Mithrun could almost imagine that one ear was just folded down against his chest, the other… wait. That might be a memory. The way a slender brown ear would rise out of dark curls and twitch.
There had been a lot of changeling mushrooms in the dungeon, and while even the changes to his own physique didn’t really register with him, his imagination also wasn’t usually up to even the hazy impression of an elf ear.
He almost wondered what an actual elf-Kabru had looked like. Probably still taller than him. Mithrun wasn’t the shortest elf around, but he was definitely shorter than average. Although, he didn’t know where Kabru stood on a tallman average either.
Elf-Kabru wouldn’t be able to haul him around as much. Expecting to feel petty satisfaction, Mithrun was surprised by the disappointment accompanying that thought.
The manhandling was annoying, or at least not being able to do what he wanted was annoying. The actual grabbing was… fine. Better than the weight of Kabru’s head on his chest, although that wasn’t actually all that bad.
He was still touching Kabru’s hair. That was… he hadn’t been thinking about it. But it was soft, and felt nice between his fingers.
Kabru would probably wake up if he kept doing it. But he was supposed to wake up and put Mithrun back to sleep.
He wasn’t awake.
The string of facts trotted through Mithrun’s head with the usual lack of any interest or any will to do anything about them. Including stopping his fingers from twisting slowly through Kabru’s curls.
He could wake Kabru and get more sleep. Unless Kabru’s head on his chest was what had woken him, which would just happen again. That’d be annoying.
Any kind of decision would have to involve him wanting something, or finding one option preferable. He kept playing with Kabru’s hair. Deciding to stop would also involve caring what happened next.
Kabru would probably be able to help him choose, but Kabru would make the decision he wanted anyway. He could make Mithrun agree with him though, which was nice. Cithis never bothered waiting for him to agree.
The difference hadn’t seemed important, since he didn’t usually disagree either, but… there was something there. A thought he couldn’t quite finish the shape of.
It tugged back to something that had happened that day, a conversation he’d almost been part of.
Why was Kabru so good with him?
A frown creasing his brows, Mithrun stared down at Kabru like his sleeping head might hold the answer, hand stilling.
He wasn’t sure. Everyone else agreed that Kabru was very good at handling him, but it was harder for him to tell.
He liked Kabru, as much as he liked anyone. More than most people, really. He wasn’t as grating, or as scared and inclined to kiss his ass. For all that he wouldn’t stop talking, Kabru was restful company.
Who absolutely wouldn’t help Mithrun work this out, because he was also very distracting. That was the talking, but also sometimes the things he did. That was part of the restful; Mithrun didn’t have to do anything or think about anything, because Kabru would entertain him.
Not necessarily on purpose, but that was fine. Mithrun was entertained, and Kabru preferred when Mithrun wasn’t doing anything else, so it worked out.
That was probably uncharitable. There were plenty of things Kabru wanted Mithrun to do. They just weren’t usually things that interested him.
Watching Kabru was usually interesting, if only because after a while he got flustered about it.
His fingers had started stroking through Kabru’s hair again. He hadn’t decided to. It was just… pleasant. A soothing sensation as soft curls swirled around at his touch, flowing like water. It made him feel more real.
He wasn’t going to find any answers here.
He couldn’t wake Kabru, or Kabru would try and put him back to sleep. Kabru had been very sure he’d wake if Mithrun moved, but he hadn’t yet.
Just his head probably wasn’t enough contact that Mithrun couldn’t teleport without bringing him.
There were probably any number of sensible options, but Mithrun didn’t bother thinking past the first one. Tugging the blanket free, he wadded it into a bundle about the same size as his own chest and held it up above him. Right above Kabru’s head, as far as he could tell.
Switching their positions was easy, although he did almost fall directly into Kabru’s head because he hadn’t bothered raising his knees first. Still, he caught himself, sitting back on his heels to see if Kabru would wake up.
The blanket was tucked under his head as neatly as Mithrun’s chest had been, and though his face scrunched a little he didn’t seem about to wake up. Nodding in satisfaction, Mithrun turned to leave the tent.
Stopped. It had been important that morning.
Sitting carefully by the tent entrance, he pulled his socks and boots on before wandering out into the night. It was entirely possible that there wouldn’t be any answers out there either. Probable, really. It might not even be a puzzle he could solve.
But Kabru had been so very sure he could keep Mithrun contained, and as much as Mithrun did like him, he wasn’t a fucking pillow. And he was self aware enough to recognize the pettiness in the slight smile as he wandered off.
Maybe he could find that friend of Kabru’s who’d been around during the day.
———————
It is so important to me that you know there was about a solid chance of Mithrun intentionally teleporting himself into the ground outside so Kabru’s head was held up by dirt and then had to dig himself out
I resisted, obviously. But it was hard
(Also Mithrun hid his head under the blankets on the off chance Kabru didn’t have object permanence and would forget he was there if he couldn’t see him because listen he doesn’t know how tallmen work)
#delicious in dungeon#dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi fanfic#after dinner mints#after dinner mints: definitely not watching you sleep#they’re both liars they’re both definitely watching each other fucking sleep#kabumisu#kabru dungeon meshi#mithrun dungeon meshi#captain mithrun#kabru of utaya#kabrumithrun#fun fact the warming the feet thing is something i do with ny partner sometimes#cuz he has reynauds tho not cuz he walks on ice barefoot#gotta be real careful about not burning frozen feets
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Sunless Lives Part 20: I Can’t Kill You
The Arc 2 finale! Woooo!!!
~2750 words
CW: vampire whump, discussion of suicide, medical setting, needles, IV
First, Previous, Next, Masterlist
~~~
Matthew's coworkers were stretching their breaks long, talking to each other in low voices. It started at lunchtime. Matthew noticed, but didn’t care; he figured it was some new cruelty the humans were politically inflicting on each other that meant nothing to him. He had better things to think about. Like Simon.
Simon had withdrawn from the world since telling Matthew about Bowers. He no longer wanted to go out, and he gave up looking for a new job. But he was still glued to Matthew the entire time they were home together, so by the vampire’s measure things were going well. Simon was less distracted this way. He had more energy for Matthew.
Maybe Matthew missed it, just a little bit. The way Simon’s face would light up when they went somewhere new. How delighted he’d be when something genuinely piqued Matthew’s interest too. They way he’d be so grateful that Matthew came with him in the first place - Simon still had trouble some days leaving the apartment by himself, after all.
No matter. Simon was hopelessly devoted to Matthew, and that was all the vampire needed.
Right?
Matthew felt something a little uncomfortable stirring in his gut, and it followed him on his way home. Maybe he should take Simon out. Give him a reason to spruce up a little, and to smile. Seeing him smile was almost as good as seeing him cry - maybe it was time for a change of pace.
When he arrived home he was perplexed to see Simon crouched in front of their undersized TV, watching some cable news show.
“Matthew, did you hear?” Simon turned to look at him, his wide eyes and hollow cheeks reflecting the blue of the screen.
“Hear what?” Matthew’s hand hovered at the key rack, still holding his keys. Something in Simon’s voice stilled him. Something was different.
“There’s…” Simon swallowed. “There’s a cure, Matthew. For vampires.”
~~~
They spent the day watching the news. It talked about the VIU’s research, read wordy excerpts from press releases, reworded and re-reworded them, speculated, celebrated, fearmongered. How was this cure arrived at? Would vampires become a thing of the past? Would this cause vampires to lash out? Would this lead people to believe being turned was no big deal now?
Simon’s eyes flicked back and forth between the television and Matthew, nervous and hopeful and terrified. Matthew ignored him and remained impassive, stone-faced, refusing to show any sign that his world was being turned upside down.
He called out sick from work for the week, and they kept watching.
Next came the announcement that captured vampires were being cured, and were successfully returning to their human selves. The VIU kept them in custody for their own safety, of course.
Eventually they had to admit to the suicides.
Over half of the ex-vampires couldn’t reckon with the horrors they had committed while turned, and attempted to take their own lives. The VIU quickly announced plans for massive rehabilitation systems and facilities, to ensure that the cured were not a threat to themselves or others, and would be able to reintegrate back into society - someday. How long this rehabilitation process would take was unclear.
The first interview with an ex-vampire was aired worldwide. She wept with shame.
Simon and Matthew barely spoke to each other for five days. They lived in a nest of blankets and takeout containers on the couch, eyes glued to the TV, drinking in every drop of information. Single injection. Could be weaponized. Number of active vampires dropping. Manufacturing rights granted to the EU. Crates shipped to the third world.
Then: Walk-in clinics opened in major cities. Vampires protected from arrest if they submit themselves to treatment and rehabilitation.
Simon’s eyes shone.
~~~
Simon waited another day. Just to see what Matthew would do. He couldn’t quite read Matthew’s reaction to the whole situation. While on the one hand, he was sitting right alongside Simon, absorbing every ounce of the apprehension, the speculation, the joy; on the other hand, he remained emotionless. Silent. He hadn’t even fed from or fucked Simon the whole week. He was utterly unreadable.
Simon waited, gathering his courage. He finally muted the TV during an ad break - even the most important development of the last half-century couldn’t escape monetization, after all.
“Matthew,” he started, his voice fried from disuse, “You know I would never force you to do anything you don’t want to do, right?”
Matthew glanced at him from where he slouched amongst the blankets and throw pillows, and skipped pointing out the fact that Simon was incapable of forcing him to do anything.
“Right.”
“I would just like you to… think about taking the cure.”
“What for.” Matthew didn’t sound argumentative, or curious, just… neutral.
“Well,” Simon sat up straighter, clearly about to launch into some prepared points, “I know how much you like convenience. Our lives aren’t very convenient right now. We live with a lot of risk. You could be captured. We could be discovered, and forced to move, you’d have to find a new job. And the only jobs that don’t ask questions are pretty shit, which means we can only afford this tiny place - it’s nothing like your old apartment, right? If you were human again, you wouldn’t have to worry about any of that, we wouldn’t have to live in hiding, you could have a real job, maybe even work for the VIU again, and have a nice place to live, go out in the sun…”
“Sounds like most ex-vampires are pretty miserable,” Matthew observed, watching animated cereal dance across the television with glazed eyes.
“But that’s because they’ve done terrible things!” Simon said, getting a little excited, “And you haven’t, you’ve never hurt anyone except other vampires, I kept you from having to hurt or kill any humans.”
“That’s true.”
“Just think about it - your life was pretty good as a human, and I think you could get most, or maybe all of it back! But if you stay a vampire… All sorts of things could go wrong, like I said. And then there’s me, I mean… What if someone takes me away from you? Or what if you accidentally kill me? You’d have to find a new blood source, you’d have to hurt innocent people, and then you would be miserable if you were captured and forcefully cured.”
Matthew’s hands had balled into fists while Simon talked.
“You think I could kill you?” he asked quietly, still staring at the TV.
“Not on purpose!” Simon assured him, “Never on purpose. But I know you’ve seen it happen on the job. And we had that… close call.”
The news was back. Matthew plucked the remote out of Simon’s hand.
“I’ll think about it,” he said, and turned the volume back up.
~~~
“Simon, wake up.”
Simon sucked in a breath, coming out of his slumber to an unusual silence. The television wasn’t on. He emerged from his blanket cocoon on the couch, and saw Matthew standing over him. The sky outside the window was dark, and Matthew was dressed to go out.
“What -”
“Get your coat and boots on, we’re going out.”
Simon obeyed the order, scrambling to his feet and rushing to put on his winter things.
“Where are we going?” he asked, hoping against hope.
Matthew stared at him evenly.
“The clinic.”
~~~
The clinic would have been an unassuming building if it weren’t for the armed police officers outside. Two flanked the door, and one sat at a folding table to the side with a few boxes on it. They watched Matthew and Simon approach, crossing the slush-covered street, hand-in-hand. The officer at the table stood and waved them over.
“Here for the cure?” he asked.
“I am,” Matthew stated, “He’s human.”
“We’ll need to verify that. Take off your gloves and hold out a finger.”
Simon and Matthew complied as the officer took two testing kits out of a box. He pricked their fingers and pressed drops of blood onto respective testing strips. Once he had a clear positive and negative, he pulled two brightly-colored tags on lanyards out of another box, one red and one blue, and handed them to Matthew and Simon respectively.
“Put these on and don’t take them off,” he warned. “You can go in now.” He grabbed the mic on his shoulder and spoke into it. “One vampire and a human companion, entering now.”
Matthew and Simon put on the tags and entered the building, passing between the officers on guard.
“No turning back now,” Simon said nervously, taking Matthew’s hand and squeezing it. The vampire rolled his eyes. He could take those guys.
Inside, they found themselves in a waiting room with a reception desk. Behind the desk sat a round-faced woman in pink scrubs. Another armed police officer watched them from the opposite corner. There was a door to the left, and one behind the desk as well.
“Hello!” The woman was remarkably warm for someone speaking to a vampire at four AM. “I just need you two to fill out some forms and take a seat, we’ll be ready for you in just a minute.” She set two pens and two clipboards full of forms on the reception desk.
Simon lifted his blue tag.
“I’m not…”
“There’s a form for you too, hun,” she interrupted him.
They picked up the clipboards, Simon with some hesitation, and took a seat. Neither of them spoke as they filled out their information. Simon huffed a little and made long strikes down the ‘no’ column on later pages. Matthew’s form was significantly shorter.
When Simon returned the forms to the woman she thanked him and disappeared through the door behind desk. She returned with a different clipboard just as he was sitting back down, calling them over.
“Simon, Matthew, we’re ready for you now. Follow me.”
They followed her through the door to the left, and it led to a hallway lined with numbered doors. The police officer fell in step behind them.
“I’m Tammy, and that’s Officer Thomas,” the woman introduced herself as they walked, “And no one is going to separate you two, alright? You stay together the whole time.”
Simon smiled up at Matthew, relieved. Matthew glanced at him, but his impassiveness endured.
“You’re right here, in room number five.” Tammy opened a door for them. They stepped into what looked like a large but typical examination room with a sink and cabinets in one corner, except instead of an examination table there was a full hospital bed flanked by two chairs and an IV stand.
“Take a seat wherever you like,” Tammy said, “I just need to ask some questions that you already answered on the forms - I know it’s repetitive, but it is what it is, we’ll get through it together, alright?” Her good attitude was infectious - to Simon, anyway. He and Matthew sat in each of the chairs. The officer squared his shoulders by the door.
“Matthew - you understand that you must submit to both treatment here and at a rehabilitation facility in order to not be taken into custody by the VIU?” Tammy read from her clipboard.
Matthew nodded.
“I understand.”
“Do you understand the risks to your mental health once the cure takes effect, that you may experience anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts, PTSD, et cetera?”
“I understand.”
“Good. Simon,” She turned her gaze on him, “Are you willing to talk to me alone in another room?”
Simon shook his head quickly.
“No thank you.”
“Alright.” She made a final mark on the clipboard and set it down before pulling a hospital gown patterned with sunflowers out of a cabinet drawer.
“Matthew, you can change into this and lie down on the bed, and Dr. Rhodes will be with you shortly. Don’t forget to put your lanyard back on.” She set the gown on the end of the bed. “Officer Thomas will be right outside if you need anything.”
“Thank you,” Simon couldn’t help but smile at her, “Thank you so much.”
She smiled back, betraying nothing. A true professional.
“You’re welcome, hun.” She pulled the curtain around the door and left.
Matthew stripped quickly, piling his winter coat and clothes onto the chair. Simon bounced in his seat, unable to contain his excitement. But he stilled when Matthew laid down on the bed, frowning slightly at the ceiling and fiddling with his red tag.
“Hey…” he scooted the chair closer, “Are you really okay with this?”
Matthew didn't look at him.
“Can I see your hand?” he asked.
“Mhm.” Simon unquestioningly held out his left hand, and Matthew took it and pressed Simon’s palm to his lips. Inhaled deeply. Then he finally looked at Simon. His eyes were dark and determined.
“One last taste?” he proposed.
Simon nodded without hesitation.
“Of course.”
Matthew tilted Simon’s hand and made a single, tiny pinprick with one fang on Simon’s palm. Then he pressed his lips back to it, swirling his tongue around the puncture. Simon watched him, in awe of his restraint. It struck that Matthew was dying, again, in a way; complicated emotions flooded his gut and he had to blink, hard. This vampire had protected him. Scared him. Taken care of him. Hurt him. Made him feel loved. Almost killed him.
“I’ll miss you,” he whispered.
Matthew lifted Simon’s hand from his mouth and curled it closed around the cut. He pushed it back towards Simon, who took it and held it to his chest like a precious gift.
“Thank you,” Matthew whispered back.
They were both startled by a knock on the door.
“C-come in!” Simon stammered, hiding his hand in his coat pocket.
They heard the door open and a young man in a white doctor’s coat stepped around the curtain, followed by Officer Thomas.
“I’m Dr Rhodes,” the new man introduced himself, shaking each of their hands in turn - Simon thanked God Matthew had just bit his left hand, not his right. “I’ll be overseeing your treatment here, Matthew.”
Matthew nodded, and the doctor continued.
“The cure can be painful, so we’ll be giving you a general anesthesia first, then the cure injection. You should wake up after four hours as…” he spread his hands, “A human! There will be some temporary effects from the cure, such as nausea, muscle aches, and fatigue, but they should fade within a couple days, and we’ll give you meds for the nausea. There will also be some lasting effects from the vampirism. Your teeth will remain as they are, unless you choose to file them down - we have a list of practices that are offering that if you’re interested. You may suffer from anemia, and sensitivity to sunlight. And it varies from person to person but we’ve been seeing some lingering… attachment to those you may have preybonded with. Any questions?”
“Let’s just get this over with,” Matthew said flatly.
“Sounds good to me!” Dr Rhodes forced out a nervous laugh. There was a knock on the door and he jumped a little.
“Oh, right on time!”
Tammy entered, wheeling a small cart with an IV bag and a capped syringe on it. She and the doctor both donned gloves, and Dr Rhodes approached Matthew slowly with the IV.
“I’m going to start this now, and it will knock you out,” he said, hanging it on the stand, “I need you to stay calm and take deep breaths.”
Matthew took a controlled breath, but suddenly twisted his head to the side.
“Simon-!” He reached out.
Simon grabbed his hand and clutched it, the hot blood on his palm pressing against Matthew’s skin. They locked eyes.
“It’s okay,” Simon soothed, “It’s going to be okay.” He found tears welling up in his eyes. “Just take deep breaths Matthew, it’ll be over soon.”
Matthew kept his eyes trained on Simon as the doctor inserted the IV and started it, scanning every inch of his human’s scared, hopeful face. His jaw flexed and clenched and he squeezed Simon’s hand so hard that the human gasped.
“I love you,” Matthew breathed.
“I love you,” Simon’s voice cracked as he put every ounce of feeling into his words.
Matthew stared at him until he couldn’t, until the darkness overtook his vision and his jaw went slack. Even then he clung to Simon’s hand like a lifeline, needing to hold onto him just a little longer, just a little longer.
Just a little longer.
Just a little longer.
~~~
First, Previous, Next, Masterlist
Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy, @pigeonwhumps, @sunshiline-writes, @seasaltandcopper
#whump#whump fic#whump writing#sunless lives#sunless lives arc 2#vampire whump#cw discussion of suicide#cw medical setting#cw needles#cw IV#my writing
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What's ur full analysis on Susie
Ohoho….😏😏😏I suppose…..I’ll Unleash the Thoughts all at once😏😏😏😏😏normally you’d need more kirbyliker14EXP(exposure points) for it to be comprehensible but recommended levels are always wrong (this is the worst intro I have ever made
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Ok first of all to get That out of the way uhh the whole star Allies Susie desc got mistranslated(classic star allies!) basically it’s supposed to be like “helping other planets with technology” and the whole exterminate thing is supposed to be just crushing bad people okay are we clear did we get that good (also I’m gonna be putting my Suzy kaomoji between points because I Said So(It might act b me favorite ?? I’m reely happy w how it turned out 😙my magolor kaomoji ᴑ /₍⸌╷╷⸍₎\ ᴑ is close but I think it’s mostly bc I felt proud as hell after figuring out how to put the ears on one line)
/ ⎝|˶ᗜ ᗜ|
Ok first off her lore basically blah blah Suzy was Exposed To The Internet At A Young Age
Fun(?????????) fact😋 as it makes no sense for Max to have done those experiments with star dream with his only daughter in close proximity so it’s highly likely that Suzy disobeyed her fathers warnings and prohibition and technically caused her own disappearance (why am I mentioning dis??😏ermm aheu heu you’ll c)
Suzy returns after seeing the Horrors and now works for Max
Come to think of it idk if Suzy even knew of max’s real goal like ik the novel made it so he openly misses her but ?? The novel also made him live at the end so No Im not counting that data in my
Anyway blah blah Suzy feels resentment for max and how either A)simple minded his goal of “unlimited money” is or B) that he doesn’t even recognize her
Notably this is prevalent in the Japanese version as shown which means he intentionally tried to forget his feelings (in other words what makes a human=human) and then started forgetting them more after more usage but didn’t see a problem with it (why are the haltmanns Like That)
/ ⎝|˶ᗜ ᗜ|
Anyway time for the main story events
It’s been established that this is after Susie clawed her way out of hell(???) (before magolor made it cool) at like idk 11 years old so that’s slightly less impressive than the average Kirby adventure
Also that max has now lost abt 90% of his self (willingly??? Idk don’t ask me) and appears to focus entirely on money
Mr maxx pulls a questionable rant out at Kirby and tries to obliterate this 9 year olds entire world after losing a single battle but Suzy takes the helmet right after it touches his head(a tiny bit too late to enact the action?? A tiny bit too early???? Is this the worst outcome????Could he have survived and been reasoned with after defeat ???? I still don’t know STOP ASKING ME) and she enacts her famous line
She was so real for that she yippyd before it was cool oh anyway she then comes out(WOOOO GOOD FOR HER💥💥💥💥💥) as someone who’s been Against max all this time (in other words…disobeying her father…..😏😏😏I can’t believe Suzy made a Suzy reference)
However her calculated plan backfires and as the helmet touched his head but he didn’t have the helmet he gets 99% of his entire self destroyed and now the cold calculated machine decides to destroy the universe (erm…WHOOPS!😂😂😂 susie is so losercoded I can’t believe everyone calls her the Normal Person how do you screw up a plan this bad like seriously oh my god marx and magolor enacted their plan perfectly and taranza managed to technically bring the heros of the lower worlds to sectonia but Susie completely screwed up they should start calling her Losie)
However when learning of this susie doesn’t react in a normal way like there’s no sulking or sad face she gets up and immediately thinks of a plan to defeat star dream (giving Kirby the gimmick that notably cannot fly for very long without certain abilities and has quite short ranged attacks) then meta knight shows up n gives a much better plan by using his cool ship
As you can see her body language is all formal and cool and she’s all commanding and stuff (her autistic stare has captivated my soul) HOWEVER😏😏😏😏😂😏ohhh babyyyy I was dying after realizing this
As soon as they fly off screen susie immediately establishes a more desperate pose and language (in like. Every other version I think this is the American version even Europe got it better Suzy uses a formal name for Kirby instead of pinky)
In other words Suzy refuses to show her weakness in front of people(LOSIE THEORY CONFIRMED??????) then at the end she immediately leaves pop star instead of like lingering around to celebrate with Kirby like taranza did or the end of rtdl with Kirby’s chums (u can probably use ur imagination for the possible reasons she chooses to be alone😙😙😙)
/ ⎝|˶ᗜ ᗜ|
ok robobot events over wooo anyway I Wasnt Sure How To Title This
Robobot is known for having a similar lore story to Taranza where villian that dies actually lost their self prior to the events of the game and the villian who gets redeemed had a persona connection with them
When we later see Suzy in Allies she appears Completely Normal And Fine compared to taranza
However I really doubt that she’s just FINE I mean you saw during the cutscenes I bet offscreen she’s tormented by thinking abt what her dad could have been and how he ended up and how she caused his fate (ok I changed my mind I don’t want losie theory to be confirmed take it back)
Notably, she’s completely dedicated herself to max’s company even though she seemed to really dislike him at the end(she coulda just made a whole new company)is this her way of apologizing for destroying him ?? A way of making her dad proud ????? Where do these questions keep coming from
While taranza gets to openly grieve and dedicate some time to receiving closure Suzy does Not the whole thing abt planet robobot is constantly upgrading and improving and so on and GRIEF is COUNTER PRODUCTIVE (oouuhhhghgghh I feel like things obtained from evolution that are counterproductive to modern life could b soo interesting to explore with Suzy like uh adrenaline giving you paranoia and complex emotions such as guilt and embarrassment being a side effect of brains developing more)
/ ⎝|˶ᗜ ᗜ|🍦🍦🍦
No more “girlboss” Susie we’ve advanced to LOSIE susie now 👍👍👍👍👍👍
#kirbyliker12thoughts#susie haltmann#susanna patrya haltmann#susie kirby#ask#it’s..reely l8 here oh man DOUBLE WHAMMY
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redguybruary. yeah? yeah.
afab reader (no prns used) x puppet red
size kink + like. inadvertent breathplay? yeah. + animalistic tendencies woooo i had to go wild for my grand return. monsterfuckers win tonite!
is there even still an audience for this? we’re about to find out
MINORS DNI. no age indicator in your bio = blocked.
the noise that came out of you would have been embarrassing, if it were audible at all.
—
first, some backstory, to try and rationalize exactly how you found yourself in this situation, crushed into your mattress by your roommate-plus-partner-in-witnessing-the-horrors.
when you had awoken the first time in that house, you had no idea where you were or how you had gotten there. scrambling down the stairs and into the kitchen, you’d been met with the mildly surprised faces of… a green duck, and a little yellow dude. you’d assumed that if the red guy had visible features, he would have looked surprised, too.
the three seemed to already know each other, but with time - and a handful of traumatic experiences - you came to fit in just fine. the only thing off, in your opinion, was the way red consistently found ways to avoid you. unfortunate, since you couldn’t deny that his height (a whole six foot six) and dull demeanor were horribly attractive.
tonight was the night you had resolved to put this perceived beef to rest. cornering him after duck and doi had gone to bed, you had asked very simply: “what did i do to you?”
your question had been answered with a long beat of silence before he lunged forward, large hands landing on your waist - and oh, they nearly fit all the way around - and pulling you into him as his teeth latched onto your neck, biting hard enough to draw blood. you’d made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a shriek, a shuddering breath leaving you as a growl rumbled in his chest as a response
i wasn’t doing anything wrong, was i?
—
so that brought you here, with red’s full body weight crushing you into the mattress and leaving you gasping for air as he slid his cock into you, inch by inch as if he were enjoying the absolutely pathetic gasps coming from you. in a brief moment of clarity, you thanked your stars for landing you in this strange fantasy-environment where anything seemed to be possible. if you weren’t here, you were positive that red’s cock would have ripped your insides apart. you could feel him brushing against your cervix, and the thought that he wasn’t even inside you fully made your cunt clench as a new wave of lust washed over you.
large hands yanked your hips up higher, and you could vaguely register the tickle of red’s hair on your back as he hunched over you, pressing himself deeper into you and causing you to gag on air, drool seeping into the sheets where your mouth was. he didn’t speak, but you felt a pleased groan rumble in his chest as he began to move, motions slowed by just how tight you were. he had thought of this moment countless times, but he didn’t think he could make it last, not with you struggling for air and rocking your hips back underneath him.
whatever. he doubted you’d be opposed to doing this again. if he wanted, he could have you again, and again, and again...
the thought made his head swim, and with a groan that vibrated through you, he sank his teeth into your shoulder as he came. the feeling of his hot cum inside you made you squirm as best you could, a ragged sob escaping your mouth as he fucked his cum into you, teeth still sank into your shoulder. between the asphyxiation, the blood trickling down your back, and the feeling of his cock stuffing you full, you felt as though you’d faint. every nerve alight, you keened as your orgasm hit you hard enough to make you fall limp on the bed, twitching as what felt like endless ropes of cum finally ceased and red slid himself out of you, far more careful than he had been at any point in the last hour or so.
those same hands, now more careful and delicate than any hands that large had a right to be, ghosted over the bite mark on your shoulder before you felt the bed shift as red stood. “i’ll, uh, clean you up.” he mumbled before you heard him shuffle off, leaving you to relax into the sheets.
if this was part of your new normal, you weren’t complaining at all.
#dhmis smut#red guy smut#red guy dhmis smut#bug spray#RAHHH this is super short but whtv#i love subby red but i love animalistic quiet insanebrained red too
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I HAVE A NEW PUN TO TORTURE BLUE WITH
please draw this I would really like it so much
Blue: HORROR WJAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY BEDSIDE CLOCK!?!
horror( crunching the clock with his teeth) we can talk later I’m on a time crunch here
Blue are you ok
Blue: just laying on the floor not moving and silently crying
Horror: ah cmon it wasn’t that bad
Woooo!!! First ask :3 so there it is for y’a a short comic! Enjoy 😉
Master post here!
#undertale#undertale au#sans#sans au#horrortale#horror sans#horror au#swap sans#underswap sans#underswap au#underswap#first ask#rosaberge2 art
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Hellraiser 1 live blogging
Summary: That was fucking fun. Amazing special effects, fun plot, characters I liked, and just all around absolutely deserving of its place as a horror classic.
that seems like a sweaty way to solve a box
Oh this is a fun place, look, a face!
So this guy has a brother he hasn't seen in ages.
Julia doesn't like the house. Rocky marriage, too. This weird house isn't gonna help lol. Ew, buggies. I do appreciate older movies using real bugs. Larry! Come look! A terrifying... mattress?
Frank is the brother I guess.
Then who is phone?
Kirstie has found a room, a room better than a creepy house.
Oh no, scary sex party photos. He was kinda handsome tho. Are you stealing that photo, Julia? Naughty.
Hey mover dude, stop leering.
Hello again Kirstie. Hello, ominous bridge. Hello, ominous bushes and trees. Hello ominous farmhouse.
"This is a big house" I've seen like 3 rooms so far.
"Her mother's dead". Lol. I'd heard that line before.
Julia, you got the hots for the broooo. I would also be kinda seduced by brother frank out in the rain.
Julia isn't concerned with you, Kirstie, she has an old photo to make out with. And to stand ominously at the top of the stairs with.
Now for ze attic. And erotic memories. Nice. I think? She seems into it, sort of? Kinda hard to tell, but modern-day her is totally into the - oh ok, yeah, she was totally into it.
Oh that nail is gonna be involved and I can't watch lol. *looks away*
Did she orgasm from that memory?
Ew that's a lot of blood. Bro why didn't you get a towel?
House: "slurp"
Ahh, the tell tale heart.
See, these effects are great. I really do believe this floor is bubbling with demonic energy and resurrecting a disgusting man. Fuck this sequence is awesome. Yeah I can watch this, but not a guy getting stabbed by a nail. Don't ask, I can't explain it either. That fucking rocked.
And dinner party, complete with laughter that sounds like it's coming from a studio audience. Also, you WILL get drunk, no leaving allowed! Except Julia, she's allowed.
Mmm whispers. Welcome back to the attic.
Kinda hard not to look at you bro. This makeup is awesome, and I love his dialogue? It's so casual, but also coming from a horrible flesh zombie, it's great. "Help me, will ya?" He needs more blood.
Ominous lurking, Julia. Love the lighting.
Kirstie, awkwardly: "Gnight." lol
Hello creepy fisherman dude. No idea if he's a fisherman but he looks like one. Ah, smack talking Julia. She IS fucking weird.
Of course he sleep talks. And Julia plots, and thinks about sex.
Frank's makeup is so fucking good. Thank you, 80's movie, for lighting your characters.
Oooh this is a cool effect. What's going on here? Oh, it's Kirstie dreaming. You know I give her credit for immediately calling. Too bad he's gonna die immediately after the phone call. Right? (no)
Hey Frank, you're not allowed to think about Kirstie, you already have a lady. Am I judging a dead zombie man? Yes.
Oh, so is Julia gonna grab a random stranger dude? And not kill her husband? Sorry, random dude. Come on Julia, think up an excuse like, "let's not fuck right in front of the door, idiot". I mean, he's sleazy, but probably doesn't deserve murder. He is dumb though. Julia isn't very good at this fake seductress thing, but it IS her first time. I think I would've stabbed him by now though. LOL whitie tighties. So unsexy. Woooo murdered. In his undies, how undignified.
I do love Julia's earrings, those kick ass. Tortoiseshell stars, fuck yeah. Very 80's.
You did a bad job cleaning yourself up Julia.
Mmm crunchy yum yums.
Ew he's even squishier. So slimy. Ew, no Frank, I don't wanna touch you either.
"Come to daddy" is going to make me laugh forever now.
I wonder how much porn there is of half-alive Frank.
Julia needs to dispose of a body, just give her a sec! Larry, you're kinda dumb.
Julia, you didn't really think you'd get away with murdering just one guy did you? I imagine salty skin on bare... muscle? would be very painful.
Oof, customer service. Yeah, you know, a complaining Karen and Dude Eating the Crickets sounds about right for customer service.
Welcome home, victim #2. "I like to be careful" - murdered. lol. Julia is a lot more chill about it this time, also she's becoming sexier! You know I will say she was very quickly on board with this whole murder thing. Hm Frank, you're still looking a little slimy, do you think you should be wearing clothes yet?
Ok so the cenobites introduced you to BDSM.
Julia is bored by boxing. "I've seen worse" LMAO. Also Larry, shouldn't this stuff make YOU sick? You're the guy who hates blood. Oh Larry, don't be a hero. "Guess I gotta seduce my own husband to keep him from going to the attic". Does she care a little for Larry? I think she probably doesn't want him to die, at the very least.
lmao how did Larry not see those rats?
Whoah Frank just slippin by there. Ooo he's gonna do a murder. Can Larry not hear her say no?? I'm so confused. Oh no, he was just ignoring her. Turd.
Marriage talk with your kiddo. It sure is "way beyond" you buddy.
Ah, marriage talk with the zombie.
Oh no, Kirstie is gonna get the wrong idea. Sorry kiddo, your step mom isn't cheating on your dad! Well ok, yes, she is - but not with that particular dude. Actually, the worse crime here is she's a big ol murderer. Oh wait is Kirstie actually witnessing the murder a little? I can't tell. She seems very concerned though.
I appreciate Larry wants to keep Julia from seeing the worst of the murdering. I also appreciate the crunchy noises.
I love that the whole house just constantly creaks for no reason. Nooo don't go in the attic. Eeeew icky touchy uncle Frank.
I don't know if she's necessarily smart for stealing the box, but she was smart to use it to get away.
Why is the nurse watching the "flowers opening" channel? This doctor is being so fucking weird lol. "Yeah you were found wandering, passing out, covered in blood but uh, we're gonna treat you like a criminal."
ooh, the box likes to pretend it's pretty, pink sparkles! Seems like the box can pretty much solve itself, don't know why Frank was all sweaty about it.
Hm, maybe don't go in there, this isn't a children's 80's movie. That is not a hallway to a fun adventure.
Hi two-headed fishface cenobite.
Oh fucking cool, the tiles glowing like that!
OH that's the chatterer, right? I know folks have named them all.
And it's our guy, "Lead Cenobite" - I mean Pinhead!
I love them all. They're so great. <3
Oh, is Julia gonna show Frank to Larry? Are we to guess he was murdered off screen? Does Frank have skin now? Oh nope, he's just ... wait. No. That's Frank wearing Larry, isn't it?
Why do you need to see a body so badly, Kirstie? I mean, he's gonna be skinless either way. Guess it'd be hard to tell lol. Of course, Kirstie is upset because this means the cenobites are gonna eat her.
All kinds of chaos happening now. At least Kirstie figured it out. Aww you broke Frank's new skin.
"Well, so much for the cat and mouse shit" - that got a real laugh out of me. *snort*
Oops Frank, you killed Julia a bit. Don't seem to broken up about it, but he's more into Kirstie.
There's still cenobites in the attic. I like to imagine they're just up there, twidding their thumbs like "... Is she coming back?"
I always think it's fun when you have a character wearing the face of another character because it means the other actor is playing the part now, and some folks do a REALLY good job at this.
Hey now cenobites, that's not playing fair. She's sort of trying to help you, remember? Maybe that was just a reminder "bring him to us and we'll take care of him for you". I think she's trying to draw him in? To where the cenobites are.
My friends are back!
"This isn't for your eyes" Kirstie slowly slips away like "yeah ok good I'll fuck off now for sure bye". She keeps watching though. Not sure why, I guess so we the audience can see?
Ooh, the house is bleeding, nice. Oh, Julia grabbed the box or the box grabbed her, not sure which.
Aw, Pinhead just wants to show you things.
Ah, so you CAN unsolve the box and it blasts them all back to hell. Also the house is collapsing because sure. Steve is like "no questions, just run".
Ok, the ending fight with the fishface was a little silly. "Oh, can't get a grip on the box, would you just - I can't get it! Gotta grab the box!"
That burned down fast.
Kristie, it's a metal box. Why do you think it's gonna burn? Oh hey it's bug eating dude. I feel like he was one of them the whole time. Oh yeah he was. A skeletal dragon???
And now it's back home apparently.
The end!
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Disney Villain Polycule Posts Part 2- Flustering the Horned King
WOOOO ok I had. An Unreasonably Good Time writing this. Hope you like it! This is part of my DV'Cule postings, link here for the OG post!
It's under a cut becuase holy moley I didn't realise how long this had gotten.
Maleficent x The Horned King x The Headless Horseman. Fluster Time.
Villains the fall into two broad groups. Loud, flamboyant, overt evil, the kind that draws the eye and fills up a stage and basks in the ire their dramatics draw – villains like Jafar, Yzma and Ursula.
Then there are the darker, quieter kinds of evil – no songs, barely any lines, evil in action more than words, rendering them twice as effective. These villains bask in horror.
The Horned King is the defining feature of the second type of villain.
Maleficent suspects that in his own world, greater forces were at play to stop the King succeeding than a mere farm boy – The King’s brutality and ambition almost exceed her own. His cruelty is something she has often...appreciated, among her partners. There is little posturing, or conjecture, his threats are promises that he will follow through on and isn’t that just a breath of deliciously fresh air.
It has taken work to earn him as a partner. Her persistence was surprising to the Lich, especially since she had taken his silences for refusal as first, not the shocked uncertainty it had later been revealed as. The Headless Horseman, once comfortable in approaching her, had commiserated especially hard. His own attempts at companionship had been held up by a brick wall of oblivious lich king for months.
For a while she had been fine with knowing the King only through his persona. All villains wear masks, after all, and he is no different. But lately she has been craving a deeper knowledge of her companion beyond ominous-yet-comfortable silences and the occasional scathing commentary.
Their King is famously difficult to read, and she and the horseman have come to the sinister realisation that they have a common goal in getting him to emote more while in their company.
It wouldn’t be sinister if they were anybody else, but they are themselves and they are villains and they could make a picnic date in the park sound foreboding, so.
They have spent many an evening not-so-subtly eying their King from across the room, learning his subtle little tells. An annoyed twitch of a hand here, a subtle shift of weight in his steps as a form of dismissal, the way his shoulders rise in offence vs roll back when pleased.
They have only seen him fully animated the once.
To see him tall, outstretched, a blade in one hand – the furious crackle of crimson power in the other, eye sockets burning with hellish light – his voice resounding off the walls…
The Horseman needed to lean on Alpatraum for a good minute while his knees recovered and his beloved gave him a run for most threatening evil laugh. Maleficent was too busy tattooing the scene before them to the inside of her eyelids to comment.
...this image contrasted with a sputtering, wide eyed, off balance King as they let loose their first barrage of compliments is delightful.
“I- what??” his voice echoes quietly as what little is left of his face warps with confusion, caught between the near predatory grins of his beau’s.
The shoulders are not up yet, bafflement preventing their rise, so they move in for stage 2: physical affection.
They are both taller and take full advantage – Maleficent softly raising his chin as the Horseman steps behind and lays hands on his shoulders – and there’s a strange keening noise that only dogs and gwythents can hear coming from the Kings chest and yep, mhm, just let him die again already because there’s no coming back from that-
- they have the audacity to chuckle and slip closer. He has no idea what to do with his hands, which are shaking, and under Maleficent’s thumb a wild – in that it’s almost approaching living speeds – heartbeat makes itself traitorously known and his tongue has forgotten how to function so just let the earth swallow him he can’t deal with this p l e a s e.
“Something the matter, your Majesty?” She has the gall to be completely unruffled - he’s halfway to a response before the Horseman squeezes his shoulders and all thought pitches off a cliff.
“Hng.”
“Eloquent.”
“Shut. Up.”
They laugh, because of course he’s being grouchy about it, even if they can see a colossal (sickly looking, due to the darkness of his blood) blush under the hood and the King’s fingers are all but fisted in Maleficent’s robes. “I don’t- Don’t- mng.”
The Horseman has trailed his hands further down his arms and he’s so wound up he can’t decide if he likes the change in placement or wants to jam them back onto his shoulders under the fur stole.
They repeat the process several times. Each time with the goal of a new noise, a new twitch, the burn in his sockets when he realises he likes something particularly well.
It was less revealing something already existing as it was teaching the King that this was something even possible to have. The lessons bordered on mortifying, but, never actually unwelcome.
The first time he stiffly, but with purpose, strides across the room and slips his hand into the Horseman’s – face flushed and eyes staring anywhere but at his partners – was the day that the curtains caught fire because he was not expecting the joyous twirling hug that followed and lashed out as he was lifted off his feet in shock. Maleficent refuses to replace them for the fact they can tease him about it every time he initiates affection afterwards.
He doesn’t want to replace them either.
#thalassa speaks#disney villains#The DV'Cule#maleficent#the horned king#the headless horseman#My BELOVEDS#FUCK YEA#this whole 'write what you want' thing is great I feel EMPOWERED#these three I swear#fluster the undead lich king all day every day please it's for my mental health
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Ok first of all: I see a lot of critics say they were disappointed that the events of the film weren't actually s*pernatural and this irritates me a lot BECAUSE. That would be super anticlimactic. The entire film is them going "woooo~ there's a ghost~" so what did they want? "yes it was a ghost of a little child. just like you thought it was. spooky shit eh?" Like. Ok.
I literally watched the film knowing the entire plot (because I always read horror film synopsis' before watching them because I'm baby please do not judge me thank you) and the twist was still impactful. I knew he was in them damn walls and yet when the house started banging and the lights flickering I was like "OOOHHH SHIT" because it was literally so well done.
I don't take criticism on this film anyway because I love it so much and I think it's fantastic - but this is the criticism that bothers me the most. They literally out here wishing the film was more boring.
AND. I reckon was this kinda criticism that led to the absolute shitshow of a sequel. It was rubbish, it went back on multiple things established in the first one, it didn't really make sense, it was silly: I did not like the sequel at all even a little bit. But for some reason people wanted the doll to be actually haunted?? That's boring!!! It wasn't scary even when the doll actually was evil scary ghosty that was evil and hurt people and was evil. It looked gross I'll give em that, but boy Annabelle just didn't fit with what the first film succeeded at like at all.
I love Brahms to pieces (hence the url) and I will defend everything he does. HOWEVER. the reveal that it was him moving stuff around and causing havoc was Much scarier in the context of the rest of the film than a doll possessed by the spirit of some dead kid. You could (and people have) make a film about a possessed doll very easily that would be scary - but for the story that The Boy told up to that point, the twist was absolutely perfect in making it a horror. Simply confirming what had been assumed/implied from the start would just be. Eh.
I WILL say tho, the twist does make it a one-time-consumable film in terms of scariness. Like it is substantially scarier when you don't know he's there and then it's revealed. I still enjoyed it to the point where it's my favourite film now, but I appreciate that the spookiness is lost quite a bit when you know why shits going down. Not to say Brahms isn't a creepy lil guy in his own right tho <3
But yeah. This is a strong opinion that I have. Not just because I love Brahms' character, but because I just genuinely believe this criticism is so dumb. That's all.
#the boy 2016#brahms heelshire#idk what to tag this with?#review? more review of other people's reviews?
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Hi Author Cherry! Can I have a matchup? It's my first time asking for something like this so bear with me.
I'm bisexual with a male lean. My height is around 5'7 (170 cm). I'm pretty good with my hands and am involved with a lot of artistic hobbies such as drawing and photography. People usually describe me as weird. (which I am fond of) I can be old-fashioned with my taste in music and fashion. I prefer darker colors over pastel.
I'm an INxP (typed on cognitive functions) though I can gravitate towards INTP and ENTP more sometimes. My horoscope is Sagittarius. I like to travel and go outdoors a lot.
I'm a lover of horror movies since I grew up with them. I read sometimes and one of my favorite genres are mystery and fantasy. I like to learn and study about astrology in my free time as well. I listen to lounge music and K-pop a lot.
My ideal trait in somebody is intelligence, somebody with wit is already enough to make me adore them.
I'm sorry if this was too long. Thank you so much!
(Apologies for resending. Please ignore the last ask I sent.)
author cherry- something about that makes me feel so proud of myself, thank you-<3
this isnt long at all, the more information the better is how i see it!!
WOOOO I HAVE ENERGY LETS GET RIGHT INTO THIS-
It is my honor to match you up with…
Amane Yugi~!!!
- While his grades don’t show it, Amane is really smart
- Sit with him for five minutes and he will rant about the stars
- When you start studying astrology, please invite him over
- He will drop anything he is doing to be able to study his favorite thing with the person he loves
- He is a fan of horror movies as well but when it comes to jump scares he can be a bit of a chicken holding a blanket above his head
- He loves the mysteries genre as well so if you heard of a new mystery book please do tell him!!
- He loves to look at your drawings or photos you took
- He is so amazed that you did this, you are so perfect to him
- He will steal your sketchbook/photos you took and look through them
- He will also tease about how you should take photos of him
- If you ever do he will be flustered-
- He 100% agrees with your style and music taste
- He will ask you to send him playlists you made because he says you have the best music taste out of anyone he knows
- He will try and seem extra smart around you too to impress you-
#tbhk#toilet bound hanako kun#tbhk x reader#jshk#tbhk anime#hanako x reader#toilet bound x reader#hanako kun#jshk x reader#jibaku shounen hanako kun#teru x reader#teru minamoto#tbhk manga#tbhk minamoto
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v v true!!! oooh omg i remember watching coraline. i'm not much of a horror movie fan (says the one who writes stuff like yandere lmao) so honestly speaking that movie creeped me out esp the eyes halkjfdlakjsd i'm a scaredy cat yup- corpse bride was a delight to watch tho! comfort movies... hmmm. here's the thing, i... i don't watch a lot of movies hahahh
both you gotta do both. remember to not always give in to that charming smile and scold him sometimes lmao awh lil tsundere lia and the deredere ayato.... new trope unlocked? ;) hsldjfl that sounds very cute and adventurous...... i'd imagine if i caught you two sneaking about at night i'll shut my lips (nepotism at its finest-) and silently sends you away- oh dear hello professor zhongli fancy seeing you here so late at night wow sure is sunny tonight huh haha haha oops i mean moony uh um heh-
THAT WOULD LITERALLY BE ME omg i'll nestle right onto his sides and tuck myself in a floofy blanket and fall asleep hearing his soft breathing. heizou would talk your ears off throughout the movie. somehow predicts the movie's plot within the first ten minutes of watching. welp since the movie's spoiled anyway let's just sleep 😴
ooooh i am e.x.c.i.t.e.d!!! lmao oh no is this my cue to swoop in to grab zhongli's hand and propose like "I HAVE MONEY YOU CAN USE IT"-
lia. lia i have seen you fawn over scara on your priv. you're down bad. the gremlin man has taken hold of you hsldjfklsd have you seen his teaser? and the voicelines? my god. i am so glad i'll be pulling for him. dw i shall take a lot of screenshots hehehehehehe
we've got meteors and air blades falling from the sky.... next we know al haitham's burst would be durians falling from the sky or something- /j
you're finally welcoming your beloved in your arms!!! woooo!!! so. when's the wedding gonna be at- /lh
it's ok if their back aches we can always pull them aside and persuade them to spend time with us with a massage ✨
well, rin jie, you're stuck with me because i love horror movies (but i prefer psychological horror that makes me take a step back to think) 🤫 i am linking my arms with you so you cannot escape as we speak, hehe. (/lh) and dw abt not being much of a movie watcher, comfort comes in many ways and objects like food and blankets and zhongli's arms—
i am pretty good at scolding people without being a spoilsport (and i always happen to get attracted to brats with brains heizou and scara), so rest assured ayato is left under good supervision! >:) AND I SWEAR I AM A HOSTAGE-TURNED ACCOMPLICE... rin jie, your kindness will be the kickstart to my nepo baby era. (/j) but i'll do my best to make you proud! you can trust me on potions and herbology ;D i think ayato would excel at charms and have lots of interest in the study of ancient runes?? but wbu, what subjects would you and oh-so gracious professor zhongli would teach?? hehe, my fav couple to tease and giggle at as long as i don't get points off hufflepuff >:3c (/lh)
and i've gotta say that zhongli genuinely looks like he'd be the warmest and coziest to cuddle out of all the men?? i'm not sure if it's the earthy color palette he has, but i still gotta hand it to you 🤧 ayato's is also cozy since you get bonuses of having your hair smoothened and played with whilst you snooze on his chest or maybe i'm just biased, HELP??
yes, i've finally put aside my pride to admit that i am now an official scara kisser. i can't believe i have way more posts on my priv about denying scara instead of expressing my love for ayato 😮💨 i'm not sure if you played thru the interlude quest but lmk if you did because that quest was the final push for me personally, UUUUUU. OH AND DO SEND ME THOSE SCREENSHOTS 👀 make him do a michael jackson spin in the air (/j)
I SAW ALHAITHAM'S LEAKS... and iirc, the names for his talents are literally topics in physics??? THIS MAN 😭 good luck getting him soon, rin jie! it seems yaoyao will be on his banner?? she's super cute, but i'm still waiting for kaveh tho fhejkskek. OH AND I HOPE YOU'LL WIN THE 50/50 FOR AYATO TOO! <3 this update's 2nd phase is about to be my spending phase because i'll be pulling for ei on 50/50 after i get ayato 🤧 i think ei + ayato will be a good combo, so i'm really hoping i get her! if not, then guaranteed for alhaitham maybe?? or i'll save for another rerun or for future fontaine characters >:)
#phew our gacha itinerary sure is packed LOLLL but that's totally okay 😩#it was such a shame that alhaitham's burst didn't involve durians PFFT we're clowning this man so hard 😭#ask box! 📬#visitor: dearest rin! 💠#cw: leaks
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WOOOO AV YOU'VE REACHED MAG4!!! I'm so curious about your thoughts so far, what do you think of the podcast and its story? Is there any particular characters you like or an episode that stuck out to you? I'm so excited to hear what you have to say about it!! 🌟
i like it so far!! with sort of horror esque medias i kinda need to consume them in increments so i don’t get too in my head about stuff, so while the pace has been slow i do thoroughly enjoy it! it’s very interesting, i’m excited to see what happens with those journals, i’m assuming they’ll come back since jonathan had said there were other cases regarding it? on that note jonathan is. extremely funny. his demeanor is fabulous like he’s just so tired and it’s four episodes in. sasha and tim also seem fun, though i haven’t actually heard statements from them yet… i think i just have a feeling the whole crew working at the archives will all be my favorite. Do Not Open is probably my favorite so far, it seemed it involve like clever problem solving (with the ice and the key) and i like things like that; solving supernatural problems with wit is just such a fun thing, especially in horror. i’ll make sure to tell you what i think once i get a bit farther, i don’t exactly have a good grasp on the plot yet as i don’t think it’s really picked up in terms of lore (which makes sense considering it was just the first four i listened to). thanks so much for inspiring me to listen btw!! i think i’ll have a really good time listening to it :D
#tma#psychological horror my beloved <2#idk i’m really excited to learn more about the people working at the archives too!#they seem like they’ll be interesting#my wonderous mutuals!
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In the Middle
Harry Styles x Reader x Florence Pugh
Story Summary: Florence and Harry are smitten with their makeup artist on set.
Word Count: 10k (dear god I got carried away. I’m so sorry)
Warnings: Language // Threesome // MFF // Oral Sex (Female Receiving) // Unprotected Sex // Spanking (I couldn’t not include this) // Dirty Talk // W | W (obviously) // Mentions of religion (it’s more a metaphor.. not sure how to explain that?) //
Authors Note: Woooo boy, she’s finally done. Been working on this baby for a while so please comment. I’d love to hear your feedback! Also, the reader has an adopted last name in this... Not sure if that bothers anyone or not but if it does please tell me and I won’t do that in future fics.
>>><<<
It was your first day on this movie set and honestly, you were scared shitless. This movie was so star-studded you were almost positive that you'd say something stupid to at least one of them. That'd be just your luck, your first job as lead makeup artist and you'd let some gibberish crap fall out your mouth.
You took a deep breath, standing in front of the door to your trailer. Your trailer. It was so surreal, you were finally getting your lead moment, and all you could think about was 'I better not mess this up and get black listed.'
"Gonna open the door or are ya goin' to do makeup out 'ere?" The voice from behind you caught you off guard. You wished you wouldn't have let out the shriek when you jumped around to see the beautiful specimen of a man standing in front of you.
Of fucking course it had to be one of the main actors.
Your face heated. Your cheeks burned hotter than the sun when you heard him chuckle from his spot. His hands shoved deep in his pockets as he looked at you like you were the most amusing thing he'd seen in a while.
"Don't scare the poor girl." His co-star said as she walked up from behind him. Her hand slapped against his chest as she walked past him and towards you. His grin never faltered as you stood there completely starstruck and trying your best to not be a blubbering idiot.
"Here, lemme help." She said as she held out her hand. A sweet smile forming on her lips when you handed her the keys.
"Always make me out to be a dick, love." Harry mumbled to Florence when she finally found the right key to your trailer door.
"Easy to make you out to be a dick when you are one." She said with a shrug. He rolled his eyes but you could tell it was all in good fun. "If he messes with you, jus' tell me. I'll take care of him."
"Think she's gonna 'ave to talk to us 'fore she goes tellin' on me." He smiled widely as he teased you. Whatever shred of your usually vibrant personality had been completely washed away by nerves. You couldn't believe you were standing in either of their presence.
If only your 13 year old self could see you now. Even she would be telling you that you're a fucking idiot.
"We don't bite." Florence said as she pulled you inside your trailer. Your head nodded because honestly it was the only way to guarantee that you wouldn't say something stupid.
"Unless yeh want us to." Harry teased. Florence immediately shot him a look you'd never want to see directed at you.
"I'm good." You squeaked out. Your bag being quickly thrown on your table before you turned on all the lights to the place.
It was simple but it was completely yours. You were finally the head honcho, the boss, the shot caller. It was all up to you- how the makeup looked, how the prosthetic were applied. It was something you were pretty sure would never happen to you but knowing Olivia Wilde definitely had it's privileges.
You'd never imagined working on The Lazarus Effect would lead to almost a five year friendship with so many great opportunities. Plus, she didn’t judge you for your train-wreck of nerves you had your first day of work.
"So yeh know us. Wot's yeh name?" Harry asked you after mindless banter with Florence. Her head filled with curlers turned to look at you standing over Harry. The foundation you were dabbing on his face smeared slightly as your nerves picked back up.
You were never good at the talking part of the job. Not until you warmed up to people a bit. You were definitely more reserved of the makeup artist in the industry. You stuck to yourself for the most part and only your closet friends knew how you really were and you really preferred not getting mixed up in any celebrity business.
"Um, Y/N." You said as you sat the makeup brush down on your table before moving to start taking the curlers out of Florence's silky blonde hair. The perfectly formed curls bounced out, your fingers ran through them to diffuse them a bit.
"Been doing this long?" She asked as you busied yourself with hair. Trying your best to not pull or tug on it too hard and hurting her on accident.
"Not long." You said, the nerves you had dissipated a bit when you talked about something that you enjoyed doing. "Five years but I mostly did low budget horror films."
"Step up from that then, innit?" Harry asked, both their eyes burned into you. Your face immediately heated again at the attention.
"A bit." You said as you finally took the last roller out of Florence's hair. You were so close to being done and getting away from everybody long enough for your anxiety to let up. "First movie I get to be in charge of the makeup department."
"Explains the nerves." Florence hummed out as she sat up in the chair, fluffing her own hair a bit as she examined your work.
"Yeah, sorry about earlier. I get a little lost in the mornings without coffee." You paid close attention to them both smiling at you. Somehow feeling like you were missing a joke until they both spoke at the same time.
"You should do tea instead."
"Never going to happen. I need my coffee to function." You said pointedly, knowing deep in your heart that you would forever be a coffee lover.
"No way." Florence scoffed but you didn't miss that hint of a smirk on her lips as she looked towards Harry.
"'Aven't had the right tea."
"I'm not abandoning my one true love like that." You said with your arms crossed over your chest.
"Boyfriend doesn't get mad that coffee is your one true love?" Florence asked while Harry nodded his head in agreement.
You couldn't help the laugh that left your. A fit of giggles you didn't think you'd be letting out near them any time soon or ever. Your hand came up to tell them to give you a second to compose yourself. Their eyes moved back and forth between each other and you, confusion clearly etched into their expressions.
"You really think me, who couldn't even open the door this morning, is out hitting on people? Honestly, that's the best compliment I've ever gotten." You said as you turned back around to sit down the rest of the curlers in your hands. Random giggles still escaping from you as you shook your head in disbelief.
"They could've came onto yeh." Harry said like he was trying to figure you out. Another burst of laughter came from you when you turned back around, hands on your hips as you looked at both the ungodly beautiful people in front of you.
"I'm not really the type that attracts attention but really this was a great confidence booster." You smiled at them, whatever words both of them were about to say was interrupted by the knock on the trailer door.
"Hey, you guys are needed on set." Some assistant said quickly before walking away from the trailer.
"Guess we gotta go. We'll see you in a bit." Florence smiled brightly at you before turning and walking out the door with a cute bounce in her step.
"See yeh, love." Harry mumbled, his hand ran through his thick brown curls that you'd spent too much time styling for no reason. He followed her out the door. His long confidant strides quickly caught up with Florence. His arm around her shoulder talking to her as you shut the door.
Maybe working with them wouldn't be so bad. Maybe you'd even learn how to not be a total mess around famous people or maybe you could even make new friends. It was a nice thought you decided, they both seemed genuinely nice to you and you could always use new connections to get yourself out there a bit more.
>>>
It only took 4 hours and a shit ton of retouches on everyone's makeup to finally get to your break for the day. Your feet were sore, your whole body felt like it'd been beat up, and you still hadn't had any caffeine. If you didn't get any in you soon you'd be cast in the next remake of Godzilla.
You quickly jumped at the opportunity to run like the wind when it was announced it was lunch time. Your sprint towards freedom was stopped at the sound of your name being called out. You groaned quietly to yourself, cursing whatever god out there for hating you this much.
All you wanted was a damn coffee, was that too much to ask for?! You didn't think so, but apparently, someone out in the universe had it out for you today.
Fast footsteps sounded from behind you as you stood in your spot. Yes, you were making them come to you because fuck them for not realizing lunch time meant you didn't want to chitchat.
"Wanna grab lunch with us?" Her voice rang from behind you, making you feel like such an asshole for making her walk to you.
You turned around to see the group of people she wanted you to have lunch with. Which included everyone from the set. Not just her and Harry, everyone.
Your eyes widened as you looked at all of them. There was no way you could fake it through lunch with all those people you didn't know looking at you. Expecting you to be able to answer simple questions about yourself. Being able to carry on a semi decent conversation. You were exhausted at the mere thought of trying to not seem like a total nutcase for an entire hour.
"Thanks but I think I'm going to put on a pot of coffee in my trailer." You said as your eyes moved away from the crowd of people back to her. Her face couldn't hide emotions even in the slightest bit. Her eyebrows furrowed, lips rolled into her mouth, trying to not look disappointed but you could see the hint of it lingering behind her eyes.
"Sure. Have a good lunch." She said in a soft voice that made your heart feel like it was getting ripped out of your chest.
You stood and watched long enough to see her shaking her head at Harry. His arm around her shoulder as he frowned down at her before looking up to you. A soft smile across his lips before he bent down to say something lowly in Florence's ear.
You turned on the spot and headed for your trailer. A sigh of relief left you the second the door closed. You were always the type that needed recharge time. You had to be alone for a bit here and there during the day so you could unwind. Wash all the anxiety from being around people off you.
You hit the playlist you had saved on your phone as your chill out music. The coffee pot in your trailer gurgled in the background over your music. The slow soft beats filled the air around you. Swirling beautiful with the scent of the coffee.
You lived for this shit.
"Listen to the wind blow, watch the sun rise.
Running in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies."
You were at the best moment, the cup of coffee in your hand, your voice echoing the words of the song you had a slight obsession with when a knock came from your door.
"Shit!" You yelled when the coffee from your cup splashed out at your knee-jerk reaction to the interruptive knock. The hot liquid barely missed you but still… you could cry over spilled coffee, right?
You threw down a towel you had in arms reach on the floor before scurrying to the door. Hoping it was Olivia here to tell you that she decided to go in a different direction and needed to replace you as head makeup artist.
"Scares like a cat." Harry said more to Florence than you when your head poked out of the door. You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile forming on your lips.
"You made me spill my coffee." You said with a fake pout. Harry's eye brightened as his dimpled smile came across his face.
"Good, we brought you something better." Florence chimed in, a cup of something that definitely wasn't coffee in her hand was now glaring at you. A bag of take out boxes in another.
"Ew." You scrunched your nose as you looked at the offensive cup. Your hand finally opened the door enough for them both to slip in.
"You guys didn't have to bring me lunch." You brows furrowed. Why were they being so nice to you? You had no idea. You weren't really the friendly type, not until you warmed up to people at least.
"Noticed yeh didn't 'ave lunch with yeh. Can't run on coffee and no food." Harry shrugged slightly. Like it wasn't a big deal that they somehow managed to notice you had no lunch with you that day. Your confusion grew more by the second. Maybe this was how people became friends? You weren't entirely sure.
"Love this song." Harry muttered before he plopped down on the love-seat in your trailer. His feet kicked up on the coffee table, obviously making himself at home in your space.
"It's a good one but nothing tops 'Dreams'." You said as you took a seat on one of your makeup chairs, Florence sat on the other side of Harry.
"You two have the same bad taste in music." She groaned as she fished out the first take out box from the bag she had in her hand. Your shocked gasp made her pause.
"How dare you say that about our Lord and Savior, Stevie Nicks. You should be ashamed of yourself." Your dramatic voice and Harry's laughter of agreement made her roll her eyes at you both. Quickly going back to unpacking the bag they brought for all three of you.
"Want us to turn on 'Wonderwall' for you?" You asked through a voice cracked with laughter. Her green eyes immediately snapped to yours, narrowing at you.
"Fuckin' hell, that was a good one." Harry mumbled out, his arm wrapped around her as he smiled widely at her fake pouting.
"See if I bring you lunch ever again." She mumbled under her breath. Finally done unloading the three take out boxes and all the utensils out of the bag.
You gave her a fake pout. Her eyes rolled when she handed you the box. You were too curious for your own good most of the time, right now though, you were scared to open this box and some weird ass Hollywood "lunch" would be staring back at you.
Harry's amused eyes kept meeting yours when you'd look up from your box to whatever the hell they were eating. Nothing but rabbit food and not the good kind either, whatever they were managing to shovel down their throats smelled like rotten eggs. You were trying your best to not be a whiny brat about getting free lunch when you heard Harry let out a chuckle from his side of the room. Florence immediately looked up to see you staring blankly at the box in front of you.
"Gonna open it up, kitten?" Harry asked with an infuriating smug smile on his lips. Your eyes rolled at the nickname but you couldn't deny it stirred something in you.
"We didn’t get you steamed kale." Florence giggled when the sigh of relief left you.
"Thank fuck. I thought I was going to have to gag that crap down." You smiled when you opened the box. A plate of harmless looking pasta sat in front of you. All the carbs and wonderful goodness in the world that you absolutely adored.
Leave the healthy shit for them, you thought.
"Wait!" She yelled from across the room, you jumped slightly at the loud sound making Harry laugh. "Got to try this first."
"No way. I'd rather eat the stinky kale then whatever's in this." You tried to push your hand away from the drink she was adamantly trying to hand you.
"Come on. Jus' fo' fun, yeah? Never 'ave to try anything new again with us if yeh don't like it." Harry said. Florence head snapped around to him quickly before looking back at you. A curt nod of her soft blonde curls told you she agreed with him.
You took the cup from her. Cautiously opening the lid to peak at the color of the drink. A bright green color stared back at you. Your nose scrunched up at the sight but the smell wasn't the worst, not compared to the steamed green leaves the other two were eating.
"Bottoms up. If I die, tell my parents I was forced to drink this." You mumbled out right before downing half the cup of cold green liquid. You hoped if you chugged it the way you did cheap beer when you were 19 would mean you wouldn't taste it much.
You were wrong but surprisingly you were thankfully you got a good taste because it was fucking delicious.
Your eyes brightened when you took the next sip. Slower this time to actually enjoy the drink.
"Told yeh she'd like it." Harry said with a smug smile across his face. The look of triumph directed toward Florence who pushed his shoulder with her own at his comment.
"Sod off, Harold."
"This is really good." You said in between drinks. A very prominent caffeine buzz started to hit you by the time you'd finished the last drop.
"Got more caffeine too." Harry smiled brightly. Florence rolled her eyes as she stabbed a piece of kale with her fork.
"Yeah, well, the pasta was my idea and I'm sure she'll love it." She grumbled like it was some sort of contest between them.
It didn’t take long for you to realize you actually liked hanging out with the both of them. They were able to keep up a conversation with ease, even whenever you didn't feel like talking they both could somehow sense it. They weren't draining to be around, which really surprised you.
The both of them could joke and tease. You and Florence ganged up on Harry. Harry and you on her. Florence and Harry on you. Nonstop teasing, jokes, and enough laughter you could feel your cheeks ache by the end of lunch.
You definitely could see yourself being genuine friends with both of them.
>>>
To say you three managed to get close fast was an understatement. You three practically became inseparable by the end of the first week of shooting. If all three of you weren't together at least two of you were and the other one wasn't far behind.
It quickly became a joke on set. People constantly had to find where the three of you had snuck off to. Which was usually to the food table that was set up for the actors but Harry insisted that it was for everyone, even though you knew it wasn't.
He didn't care though, he just wanted to make sure you actually ate for the day and not just down caffeinated drinks for a meal. Florence on the other hand, was more than willing to invite you to lunch every single day. Her pleas for you to join the two of them was impossible to turn down after a while.
You figured it was pointless anyways since they brought back food for you every time you said you weren't hungry. So today was the day you'd finally gave in to her cute pouting.
"This place looks like they have those really small dishes that cost more than my rent." You mumbled to Florence as you approached the building that looked like it had jumped out of a magazine.
"You'll love it!" She beamed brightly from beside you. You wanted to believe her, you really did, but you were more of a cheap bar food type of girl. In fact, the bar by your house now knew you by name whenever you walked through the door. Which was only slightly pathetic, but you didn't have many friends and you weren't that good at making new ones, so you weren't in any position to hurt her feelings by not liking this place.
Her hand slipped casually into yours as you neared closer to the building. Harry rounded the corner from parking his car right before you two crossed the street. His long legs stride easily over to you two, his arm around your shoulder.
That was another thing that had threw you a bit off guard at first. They both were so touchy. Your hair, your face, holding hands, hugging, hands resting on your thigh. One of them always had a hand on you any time they could. It was a little strange at first but you quickly realized this was just how they were with you.
And you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't enjoy it now.
"I can feel yeh bein' nervous from 'ere." Harry said so closely to your ear you could feel the soft touches of his lips against you.
Your breathing seemed to stop for a second before you swallowed the feeling and turned to him. Eyes wide as you glanced back to Florence, trying to tell him to shut up before she realized you didn't want to be eating French cuisine.
He chuckled, shaking his head before pulling you back to the table that was already set up for you guys.
This was fancy and you were so out of place. The small table in the corner tucked you guys away from everyone. The stark white linen over the table had you anxious from the moment you sat down. Who the fuck puts white on a table?! At least the dim lighting had your back. This way no one could see you choke on a snail as you faked your way through this lunch.
Florence hand rested on one of your legs, Harry's on the other, both of them deliberately choosing to ignore your anxious feet tapping on the floor.
"Sweetheart?" Harry called you out of your panic from looking at the menu that was in French. Screw your 14 year old self for taking 4 years of Spanish in high school. "I can order fo' yeah if you want."
"Oh, I think I'm gonna have the, um…" you paused, squinting at the menu of fancy font. "Langue de boeuf?"
"Okay, 'm not lettin' yeh eat tongue." Harry snickered when your nose scrunched up. Who in their right mind would ever want to eat that?
"Wait…" Florence said as she sat down her menu in front of her with her one free hand. Your eyes glinting over to see her looking so confused, yet so adorable with her scrunched brows pulled together. Her head tilted as she blinked a few times at you. "Do you- do you not like French food?"
"I've just… never had it before." You settled for a half-truth, not wanting to hurt her feelings.
"Your last name is François!" She said as her cheeks turned flaming red. Harry's snicker from beside you did nothing to help her embarrassment. Your hand quickly squeezed his, hard, under the table to tell him to stop.
"I'm adopted," You smiled widely at her surprised expression. It's not like she knew you were adopted and she really was being so sweet planning all this out, thinking you'd feel at home here. "And the only thing French about my dad is he knows how to say beget."
"God, I'm so sorry, if- if I'd known, I'd neve-"
"Flor, please," you smiled as you took her hands away from fiddling with her menu. "I never told you. It's not a big deal. Besides, now you two can order for me in your fancy French words."
You dismissed her worrying with a wave of your hand and a gently prod of the menu. If anything, this was the most heartwarmingly considerate thing anyone had ever done for you. At least she tried to include things with the three of you that you'd also like.
When the, equally nervous as you, waiter finally approached your table to take your drink orders you were glad those two were handling everything. It felt sort of like being spoiled and you'd take that any day of the week.
"I know you." The waiter, Grayson you learned from his name tag, said after a few awkward seconds of standing in front of the table. You were only half listening, assuming it was for either one of the obviously famous people sitting beside you. "Yeah! That's right you're Y/N Y/L/N-François!"
Your eyes widened, cheeks heated as you squirmed in your seat. Both Florence and Harry looking back and forth between you and your new fan.
"God, your makeup on insta is amazing. The special effects stuff is so good. Really, I'm a big fan." He gushed as you mumbled out a small thank you, your hand clutching the complementary cup of water in front of you like it was a life raft. "Here, you can have my insta handle. Maybe you can DM sometime."
His movements to start writing down his Instagram information came to a screeching halt when both Harry and Florence shot him glares. The tension grew thick between the three of them. Some sort of a weird show down as you tried to drink your water and ignore the awkwardness.
Maybe they didn't like their friends being bothered at lunch when they were with them? You weren't sure. In all honesty, this never happened to you but you could see why this would be annoying for them. They had to deal with it all the time.
This is what they'd do for any of their friends. Right?
The tension finally eased when the waiter left the table. Your cup finally placed back down on the white linen when you let out a sigh of relief. You weren't one for strangers and they both knew it. Maybe they were just telling that guy to screw off because of your nerves, yeah that was it.
The rest of the lunch went much better than you expected. Conversation between you three was never a problem but even the food was amazing.
The two of them had great taste.
"Come on. Gonna be late if we don't get out of here." Florence mumbled, her hand already in yours as she pulled you out of the seat. You didn't even have time to get a word out when Harry threw down an ungodly wad of money on the table.
"You didn't have to pay for me." You said when he caught up to you. His hand on your lower back as he guided you through the door.
"What kind of date would that be?" Florence said without thinking. Your confused eyes shooting to her briefly before looking at the horrified Harry. "Lunch date, meant lunch date, with friends."
"Oh," you said, still a bit confused but chugging through it so you didn't have any awkward conversations. "Still, thank you."
Harry's tensed shoulders relaxed when he gave you a nodd. His eyes shot daggers to Florence over your head as you three started walking.
"I'm sorry!" She mouthed silently to him. You were completely oblivious to the mimed conversation between the two as you walked in front of them.
>>>
"Lookin' sweet today, kitten." Harry's voice from behind you made you jump in your skin. Your hand over your chest like that would somehow stop your nerves.
"What's got you all dressed up?" Florence asked as they both stood in front of you on set.
Your hands fiddled with the tight black lace top you had on. It complemented your bust so well but it made you feel awkward and out of place, like everyone's eyes were on you. Plus the pants that hugged your ass tighter than cling wrap weren't helping with the shameless stares from people.
"Is- is it too much?" Your words stumbled over themselves as your face heated.
Maybe this was a bad idea.
"Yeh look gorgeous like always." A slight frown danced on his lips as he looked down towards you. He could tell something was up by your anxious movements. Your eyes flickering around the studio like you were constantly on the lookout for someone.
"Okay," you sighed, your hand running over your hair as you tried to calm yourself down. "You guys know the sound technician, James?"
Their faces solidified to stone at your words. Both of them rigid as they looked at you. Not a hint of emotion detectable in their expressions.
"He asked me out." You felt uneasy, unsure of the decision to go to lunch with him. You felt like you were going to die in a ball of nerves at any second. This was exactly why you didn't date.
Sure, you'd gone on a date here or there. Mostly when your very small friend group got tired of you third wheeling at all the couples activities. You'd then be set up with someone, it wouldn't work out because you were one shred away from being a nutcase, and that would be the end of it.
"You can't go out with him!" Florence said shrilly, her eyes widened as the words came out of her mouth.
"Why?" You asked, eyes glancing over to the guy in question.
"He uh- he uh," she stammered, her hand slapped Harry against his chest twice for him to answer for her.
"He sniffs people!" His words rushed out of his mouth. Your eyebrows scrunched together.
"What?" You asked, as Florence hand rubbed the temple of her head before shooting a deathly glance at Harry.
"Yeah, Harry, what?" She asked, obviously annoyed but you weren't sure why. It wasn't like she was about to go on a date with the guy.
"I saw him. He likes to, uhm, yeh know." Harry looked at the ground before his hands shoved into his pockets. "He sniffs peoples hair."
"Wow," your hopes of going on a date that didn't involve cheap beer and 25 cent chicken wings suddenly blew up into flames. "Well, thanks for telling me."
"It's okay, Y/N, we'll go out to lunch." Florence said softly, her hand in yours as she gidded you off the set.
"Thanks guys." You smiled softly, head rested against Harry's chest as you three walked.
>>>
"We've got to tell her." Florence spoke quietly as she snuggled into Harry's side. His duvet wrapped tightly around the both of them in his oversized bed.
"I don't know.." He glanced at the fallen face of his girlfriend. "This all could backfire and then she won't even want to be friends."
"But, things don't feel right. It's like she's our missing piece." Her bottom lip started to tremble, corners of her eyes held onto tears that she refused to let fall.
"I know, I feel it too." He sighed as he laid back on his pillow. Looking up at the ceiling. A large feeling grew in his stomach, despair. You didn't seem like the type who dated adventurously or tried different things in your life.
He wanted you. God, how they both wanted you. You, their missing piece. Your presence made the both of them feel that indescribable warmth of home in their chest. Your laugh, your smile, your terrible sense of humor, and the way you had no idea just how desirable you really were.
"One of us should make a move on her." Florence said, finally breaking the silence between the two of them.
"Think?"
"Think it'll be the only way to know for sure if she likes one of us or not."
>>>
That Friday morning started like all the other mornings since you'd been on this job. A new mystery cup of tea in your hands that Harry had brought for you that morning. Their makeup was done long ago but now they hid out in your trailer until some intern was forced to go and find them.
This had been your three's new morning routine for the past three weeks and surprisingly, you weren't bothered by having your quiet time interrupted by them. You were actually starting to look forward to these morning's.
"Do you want to come to dinner with us tonight?" Florence asked you from her spot on the love seat. Your head lifted from the trashy magazine you were mindlessly flipping through on the floor. You chuckled as you shook your head at her, turning back to the obvious lies written in ink.
"We won't make yeh eat anythin' weird, kitten." Harry smiled easily when he moved off the couch to sit by you. His arm around your shoulders when you looked up in disbelief.
"I could pick the place." You suggested a cheeky smug smirk across your face when they both looked like you'd asked them for a kidney. "See, I knew you two wanted to eat somewhere gross!"
"You always want tacos!" Florence groaned flinging herself against the now unoccupied side of the couch that Harry previously sat at. A pout on her face as she tried to get you to change your mind.
"I do not." You scoffed. Okay, maybe you did but still those two could use a real meal or two.
"What if we do food and a movie at mine?" Harry asked, interrupting yours and Florence's teasing back and forth.
"Yes!" She agreed eagerly, her bright eyes filled with excitement and you knew you couldn't say no even if you wanted to.
>>>
You had to admit, you were fucking nervous to go to Harry's house. The neighborhood your old Camero chugged through was definitely not like your neighborhood at all. It was all fancy houses, nice lawns, and security everywhere. You felt like you were a step away from breaking into the pentagon when you rolled up to the gate for the guard to let you in.
You stood anxiously on his front step. The 6 pack of Coors Light seemed like such a bad choice now. You mentally cursed yourself for being so stupid, how could you think someone who lived here would be okay with your cheap beer? You were four seconds away from faking a stomach ache and going home to your hole of an apartment when the door opened. Harry's smiling face with that cute little dimple popping out stared at you looking so out of place.
"Don't gotta be nervous, yeh know?" He asked when he took your hand in his, pulling you into the house.
"Well, you did say you two would bite." You crack a smile at his bark of a laugh. Nerves easily washing off you when you made it into his living room.
"Where's Flor?" You asked, eyebrows raised when you turned to him.
It wasn't that you minded being one-on-one with Harry. You two got along great but you figured the blonde would be here already, the two of them seemed inseparable.
"On her way." He shrugged, his ass hitting the seat of the couch, motioning for you to do the same.
"What're we going to watch?" You asked as you sat down beside him, his arm around you when sat back from placing the beer down on the floor.
"Anythin' yeh want." He said, his eyes trained on you as you wracked your brain for a film those two would watch with you without complaining.
"Only watch horror."
"No way, nope. Not watchin' a scary movie. Yeh'll never sleep." He joked, his arm tighter around you as he pulled you into his chest.
"Not sleeping here so it's not gonna be your problem." You poked back, your head leaning against him. God, he smelled amazing.
"Sure yeh are. Got beer with yeh, can't drive drunk, kitten." His fingers lifted your chin when he spoke to you. Your eyes meeting his briefly before they flickered to his lips.
Have they always looked that good? Or was the intoxicating scent of his cologne making you drunk on him?
You couldn't tell and honestly, you could care less what the reason was when his face seemed to inch closer to you. He was going to kiss you, you realized. Your breathing seem to halt in your throat when he was millimeters away from you. His nose pressed lightly to yours, setting your soul on fire.
Your stomach turned and flopped, that familiar chill of desire ran down your spine all the way to your core. Your hands wanted to grip onto him, kiss him with a passion when the doorbell rang.
You jumped in your skin. Your body jerked back from him. Your big round doe-eyes staring blankly into his face. He groaned, eyes squeezed shut, resting his forehead against yours.
"She's got the worst timin'." He muttered before getting up from the couch to answer the door. The breath you'd been holding in released when he left the room.
Did you really about kiss your friend? And not only was he a friend, he was a coworker. You groaned, hands covered your face as it burned in embarrassment. What the hell were you thinking? You knew better than to ever mix business and feelings, especially when it came to famous people.
Florence entering the room with her sweet smile put a stop to your insanely degrading thoughts. You'd simply just pretend this never happened. Push it to the back of your mind and forget it, yeah that would be the solution.
>>>
"Why do we gotta watch this scary shit?" Florence asked, her hands covering her eyes as Jason stalked through the forest after innocent teenagers.
"You've literally acted in horror movies." You smiled at her glare she shot at you. Her head laid on your shoulder as she whined loudly. Harry sat on the other side of her, his hand rested on her thigh.
You had no idea how to even begin to feel about that. An hour ago he was trying to kiss you and now he was rubbing her thigh. You didn't understand but refused to acknowledge the fact that the kiss almost even happened.
There was definitely tension between the three of you, awkward feelings floating in the air around his oversized living room. You tried your best to shove it down, to ignore whatever happened with you and Harry, especially since Florence was here and you had no idea what she would think.
"Let's take shots." She said as she flipped off the TV right as Jason's machete swung wildly through the air towards screaming teenagers.
"Trying to get us drunk?" Harry chuckled as he stood and walked to the kitchen. That smile on his face that could melt hearts.
"Duh. You two are being weird." She said as she eyed you up. Your face heating so much you swore you'd burst into flames. "You okay?"
"Yeah, just you know, stupid stuff." You waved your hand, dismissing her question. An unbelieving hum coming from her as Harry came back in with a bottle of tequila and shot glasses.
"Oh fuck," you groaned at the sight of the bottle, your old enemy that made you say the dumbest shit glared back at you.
"Gonna be able to keep up, kitty?" Harry asked as he sat down a full shot glass in front of you on his coffee table.
You wished you'd been the type of person who was smart enough to see a bad idea staring you in the face.
You were not that person.
The shot stung and burned your throat the whole way down your throat. The potent liquid turned your stomach into knots whenever it hit the acid there.
Maybe you'd regret this tomorrow morning but it'd make one hell of a story.
>>>
"Yeh never dated?" Harry asked, the upper half of his body swayed back and forth as he sat crossed legged on the floor of his living room.
"Nope." You answered back before shooting what had to be shot number 10 down your throat. The once burning drink now felt like water when it went down.
"Wait, are you a virgin?" Florence asked, her eyes wide as she stared at you. The serious look on her face made you bust out laughing.
"I'm not a virgin. I just don't date."
"But you're so pretty. Anyone would date you." Florence said, her hand brushing back the hair from your forehead that was beading alcohol induced sweat.
"Don't have the time. Always busy." You said with a sigh. Sure, you wanted to date but your working schedule made it impossible. You couldn't even have a cat you were so busy and you fucking loved cats.
"Ever date more than one person at the same time?" Harry asked when he looked up from his shot that sat in front of him. Testing the waters, he thought, if you said you'd never do that at least you'd be likely to not remember the next day.
"Nah." You shrugged, completely missing the look Florence shot Harry's way. A warning to not push the subject.
"Y'could." He suggested as the warm feeling of sleep started to surround your body. Your eyes feeling more and more heavy by the second.
"That means two people would actually have to like me." You gave a short laugh. Your eyes closing, head falling back to lay on the couch. You'd only rest them for a second, you thought.
"We like you." Florence said quietly from beside you. Her statement being answered with your soft snores.
"She's never gonna agree to it." Harry mumbled, the shot in front of him finally being thrown to the back of his throat.
"But-" Florence started, her hands running over your hair. "I don't know, Harry. I just like her so much. Things feel right when she's around."
"I know, sweetheart." He said as he stood from his spot. His arms encircled you, picking you up as Florence stood from her spot on the floor. The two of them and the passed out you made your way to his room. The big plush bed you would have loved was soft under your body. Your hands closed around the pillow under your head.
"I wanna keep her." Florence said as she laid down beside you. Her hand rested over yours as Harry climbed into bed on the other side of you.
"M'too but I think I scared her when I tried to kiss her." He said quietly, the both of them speaking in whispers over top of you.
Florence sighed, her lips pouting as she stared at your resting face. She knew weeks ago she liked you. Knew from the moment you laughed wholeheartedly at her terrible jokes that she wanted you. The same gleam bounced in Harry's eyes whenever he looked at you but you never noticed.
You never took any of their flirting seriously. Never paid a second thought to them asking you out or trying to take you to nice places.
It made a bit more sense to them now that they knew you never dated but how the hell could you not pick up on their shameless flirtation? Harry called you kitten for God's sake.
"Jus' gonna 'ave to be blunt." Harry said a while later. The both of them doing nothing else but listening to your soft snores.
"Tomorrow?"
"Yeah, tomorrow."
>>>
You woke up the next morning to a pounding in your head. Your eyes barely saw anything through the foggy vision of your sleepy eyes. You swallowed down that dry feeling in your throat - water, you needed water.
You groaned softly as you pushed yourself up from the bed that wasn't your own. You knew you'd end up crashing the night at Harry's but you didn't expect to end up in the same bed with him, with both of them.
You figured that was honestly better than you and Harry alone in the bed together, at least you know you didn't do anything with Florence laying next to you two.
You slipped out of bed, easily. The both of them didn't move a muscle as you snuck out of the house and towards your car. Maybe it was rude for you to run off like this but you needed to nurse your hangover at your own place.
You sighed, throwing your phone on your cluttered kitchen table when you finally made it home. The traffic was awful and of course everyone was laying on their horns like that would somehow help the long line of idle cars.
Your head was killing you when you sat in your shower. The water running over you was warm and much-needed. The hangover seemed to wash down the drain with your lavender soap.
You were calm, in your element, when frantic knocking at your door interrupted your shower. You cursed under your breath, cutting off the water quickly. Hoping it wasn't your elderly neighbor who always seemed to need help moving boxes on Saturday's.
"I'm coming, Ms. Thompson!" You yelled as the knocking grew more frantic. Your bathrobe tightly around you when you opened the door. The both of them looked like a mess of anxiety and worry.
"Uh, hi?" You said with the door barely opened enough for your head to stick out. Water dripping off you collected on the floor at your feet.
"Hi? Seriously?" Florence growled, her usually sweet and calm voice laced with irritation as she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at you.
"Where's yeh phone? We thought you wondered off in the middle of the night or sumthin'. We were bloody worried, Y/N." Harry said as you opened the door for them to come in.
"It's dead." You gestured to the useless piece of technology sitting on your table. Harry hands ran over his face as he shook his head. Florence's lips pursed as they both looked anywhere but at you.
"Am I missing something?" You finally asked after what felt like hours. "'Cause I feel like I'm being scolded by my parents right now."
"You can't be serious. God, Y/N," Florence fumed in a way you'd never seen before. The confusion in your mind growing larger by the second. "What would we have done if something happened to you?
"Uhhh…" your eyebrows furrowed together as you looked towards Harry for help. You had no idea what the hell you did to make them so worried about you.
"Can yeh sit down?" Harry asked you, his head nodded in a gesture towards your couch. Anxiety crawled through your skin as you walked over to sit on your plain and basic couch.
Harry's hands smoothing down the front of his pants and Florence foot tapping like mad on your floors did nothing to calm your racing mind. All three of you sat in tension on your couch. You were sandwiched between the both of them. Their shoulders pressed tightly against yours and maybe if it was under different circumstances you'd enjoy the close contact.
"We like you." Florence blurted out into the silence of your living room.
Your widening eyes looked at her in complete disbelief until you burst with laughter. The snorting chuckling sounds died quickly when they both seemed to clam up.
"You're serious?" You asked, both of them seemed too nervous to answer at first. Harry's concerned filled eyes connecting with yours briefly before looking at the ground, his hands, his rings. Anywhere else.
"We do but we get if 's weird fo' yeh. We can just forget it if yeh want us to go back to bein' friends." He rushed out nervously as you let out a breath of air.
"I'm just surprised someone, who doesn't sniff people, likes me." You mumbled, hand pushing back your damp hair out of your face. Harry's snort of a laugh and a shake of his head had your eyebrows pulled together before Florence called your attention again with her nerve wrecked voice.
"I can't believe you didn't notice." Her hands fiddled together with nerves. "We kept asking you out."
"I'm a bit dense." You said with a short laugh.
"Whaddya say?" Harry asked as he took his hand in yours. Florence doing the same with the other. Flutters in your stomach blossomed at their touch. One hand, soft and silky like satin, the other, rough and calloused at the tips but smooth towards the palm.
You swallowed the nerves down. Your mind filled with so many doubts, so many thoughts all at the same time. Anxiousness mixed with excitement. It was new, different, and you had so many questions.
"How- how would this work?" You asked, both sets of eyes brightening at your words.
"How ever you want." Florence rushed out. The prospect of you actually considering this had her heart racing almost out of her chest. Really, she'd agree to anything you wanted as long as it included you three being exclusive.
"We… just date?" You asked, your brows furrowed as you stared at your hands. Your mind trying to turn out the logistics was going to drive you absolutely insane.
"Well, yes but y'know… the three of us." Harry gestured to the three of you.
"Won't someone get jealous?" You asked him, your head tilted to the side as you watched his lips purse in consideration.
"Guess if one of us gets jealous we gotta talk 'bout it. Work it out." He said, Florence nodding her head in agreement from beside you.
"And.." you started to get nervous about your next question, the one that had been blaring in your mind since this conversation started. "The sex?"
"Already tryin' to bed us, kitten?" Harry joked as Florence shot him a glare. Your face heated and eyes widened, maybe this was a bad idea, you were already about to die from embarrassment.
"Shut up." She whispered yelled from beside you like you wouldn't be able to hear it. Harry's eyes rolled in his head that smug smirk on his face.
"We don't have to talk about that for a while if you don't want to. We can figure it out later." Florence said softly from beside you. Her hand taking yours again, her thumb ran soothing circles against the back of it.
You shrugged, your lip between your teeth as you thought about what it'd be like to have both of them. A familiar heat worked up in the bottom of your stomach.
God, even just picturing it was getting you started. You could only imagine what it'd be like when it actually happened.
"The little minx." Harry laughed as he leaned up to look at you the thoughts you were thinking clearly wrote across your face. "Think she wants t'give it a try before settling on an answer, Flor."
"Hmm," she hummed from beside you, a smile cracked on her face as she brushed the damp hair off your shoulder. "Think she needs some more convincing?"
"Yeah, looks like it to me." Harry words floated over you, through the air above you. Your mind tried to desperately grab at the words, make sense of them, but it was useless. You were already gone at the mere prospect of the rest of the day's events.
"Can I kiss you?" Her word brought you down to earth but only barely.
Her plush lips made you forget how sentences form or words could be spoken in the English language when they hesitantly met yours. They were soft, not demanding to take control. She let you come to her. Let you set the pace that you were comfortable with.
Your hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her addictive gently touch harder into you. A heavenly sounded moan slid from her mouth when your tongue slipped its way in. You could have gotten lost in the way you moved so insync with each other when she pulled back.
Your deep breathing and closed eyes made her grin widely. Maybe you would be okay with this arrangement.
Harry's hand in yours again got your attention. Eyes snapped open to see the pretty blonde in front of you smiling smugly.
"Can I kiss yeh?" His thick accent somehow sounded richer in this moment. Your head turned to the other side to see his usually bright green eyes darken with lust. The sight of him like that could keep you satisfied for a month, maybe longer.
"Yes." You barely had the word out of your mouth when his lips pressed forcefully to yours. Demanding movements of his mouth led you in the kiss, determined hands grabbed your hips to lift you onto his lap. The sudden movement through you off balance. Your ass hitting his very prominent boner made you moan.
Holy shit, how the hell were you supposed to handle all of that?
You whimpered as he pulled you back from him. His hands running under the robe to your unclothed ass. His calloused fingers felt rough against your skin as he groaned, his head against the back of the couch as Florence moved over beside you two.
"We can stop 'ere." Harry said through gritted teeth when your hips moved over his, chasing the feeling of his retreating hands.
Florence hummed her agreement as you sat back fully on Harry's lap. Your mind ran circled around you. The last thing you were thinking right now was quitting this.
"I want to see you kiss." You said through your nerves both their wide eyes blinked up at you. Not thinking you'd be wanting to go any further.
Florence acted quickly, her hands on either one of Harry's cheeks as she pulled his lips to hers. The two of them were obviously familiar with the other. They'd been doing this for a while, you assumed.
Whatever worries you had about being jealous or not liking the three of you together all at one time quickly went out the window. They were fucking hot together. The sight of them wrestling for the lead sent a flood of arousal straight to your core. Your hips grinding against Harry's lap, desperate for any friction.
"Think we got her answer." Harry mumbled into Florence's mouth, a smile on his lips as she laughed. Your face heated as she faced you with that sweet smile.
"We better make sure she doesn't change her mind then."
>>>
It was an absolute mess of limbs as you three rushed to the bedroom. Lips against lips, tongues sliding against one another's to a point you weren't sure where Harry started and Florence ended.
"Gonna make yeh feel so good, princess." Harry's deep voice vibrated against you. His lips pressed tightly to your ear, turned upwards at the corners in a sinful smile. His hands gripped the back of your legs tighter, bringing them closer to God and you further and further away from ever having a front row ticket to the pearly gates.
If this was why you went to hell, it'd be fucking worth it.
Her teeth grazed the inside of your bare thighs. Just enough to get your attention back to her pretty head of blonde hair between your legs. Harry's head against your shoulder as he watched her work you into an absolute mess of whines and she hadn't even done anything yet.
"So sensitive, baby." She smiled against your skin. Her perfect white teeth biting a bit harder into you before sucking the flesh of your inner thigh into her mouth. Marking you as theirs.
You whimpered, head against Harry's shoulder as your fingers dug deep into his forearms that were holding your legs open for Florence. His throbbing erection leaking a river against your ass every time you squirmed in place.
Hot breath fanned against your core. Her dainty fingers ran through your exposed folds and maybe, if you had more shame, you would have held back the pornographic moan that came from you. But you couldn't help it, they'd been absolutely teasing you relentlessly. Wanting to see how you ticked.
"Please, fuck," your hoarse voice cracked as you looked down at her. She was laid on her stomach arms crossed in front of her as she shamelessly studied you. "Flor, please."
"We're getting there." She mumbled, her fingers stopped their movements, one finger slipped into your absolutely dripping pussy.
"Fuck." Harry breathed out as another moan fell from you. A subtle shift from his hips had another wet spot starting on your back.
"She's soaked, Harry." Florence held up her fingers that were doused in you up for him to inspect. A hum coming from him as he kissed against your neck that was littered with marks he'd left.
"Think y'can give us that answer now, pretty girl?" He smiled at your defiant 'humph', you were going to be so much fun to tease. "Come on, wanna hear y'say it. Then, yeh can get what y'want."
You debated it for a second, your pride or your relief.
"I wanna be your girlfriend." You mumbled through nerves. Never one to be vocal during sex wasn't going to be an option with them.
"Didn't hear yeh."
"Fuck," you groaned, face heating to blazing temperatures you didn't know existed outside of the sun. "I want to be your two's girlfriend!"
"No need to yell, baby." Florence said with a smug smile up to you.
"You both ca--" you started to tell them both to shove off when her tongue finally, finally, ran across your swollen clit.
You swore your eyes actually rolled back in your head.
"Told yeh we'd give yeh what you wanted." That smug smirk on his face as he watched you starting to fall apart.
Her tongue was flat and thick against your folds. Wild and untamed in it's adventures to find all the spots that made your toes curl. Her moans from your taste echoed through you.
"Holy shit," she breathed out, her mouth disconnected from you only briefly. Her thumb pressed on your clit, rubbing lightly. "Gotta taste her for yourself."
"Will after yeh finish. Don't wanna hog her all to m'self."
You felt like you were going to explode. Here there were, casually talking about you like you weren't even there. It was so fucking hot.
Her hands grasped onto Harry's thighs as her whole face practically buried itself into your core. You'd been eaten out before, but not like this.
Her tongue switched so effortlessly between slow, thick, long, strides to quick, tight, circles on your throbbing bundle of nerve endings. She seemed to be a step away from reading your mind. Two fingers pushing into you right when you needed them the most.
"Gonna cum, pup?" Harry grunted against your skin. His eyes never left the absolutely sinful scene in front of him. Kisses pressed against your neck, your shoulder, anywhere he could reach.
"Yes, fuck, oh-" your voice carried through your small apartment. So loud, so lustful, you didn't even recognize it was yours at first. Her fingers hitting that spot inside you so perfectly, your tightening walls couldn't take it anymore.
A release in a way you've never experienced before finally hit you. Your whole body shivered from the force of it. Eyes closed tightly, head against Harry's shoulder. It was so good it almost hurt.
When you finally started to surface from that hazy feeling of pure bliss you were being lowered onto the bed. Your legs that had been held open for so long ached and throbbed but it was so fucking worth it.
"Think y'can handle another one?" Harry smiled down to you as he hovered over the bed. Florence settling beside you, her hand over your hair to calm you down.
"Yeah." You barely breathed out, eyes connected with hers briefly. How the hell could someone look so sweet and adorable after wrecking you?
You hummed, head leaning up to give her a kiss. Lips connected with hers as you reached for Harry's hand. His cool rings relieved the burning hot skin of your hands as you pulled him to your guys level.
His lips replaced hers against yours. His hands taking time to explore the curves of your body, your chest. Fingers dancing against your budded nipples. Your overly sensitive body was aching for another release as you moaned into his smirking mouth. His hand kneading your flesh in brand new ways.
"Ass up, sweetheart." His cocky tone of voice had your heart beat picking right back up as you turned over onto your knees. You rested on your elbows, hand motioning for Florence to lay in front of you. Her eyes widened as she stared you down.
"Well, don't be shy." You smiled as she crawled over to you, her legs laid open on the bed as your arms wrapped around her thighs.
"Just, just, surprised this is happening." Her words stumbled out as your tongue started to explore her folds the way hers had done. Gently soft pressure against her core, hardly enough to taste her, teasing.
Payback for them taunting you in the beginning.
Her breathing caught in her throat, her elbows barely keeping her upright when you finally got a good taste of her and fuck, was she delicious. You moaned, hands dug into her thighs as your tongue slipped into her tight hole.
You could do this the rest of your fucking life.
Harry's distraction finally broke when Florence's eyes opened again. Green eyes meeting green eyes as her hand tugged your head down harder into her core. His tongue wet his lips before his hand traveled down between your legs, fuckin' hell you were soaking almost down to your knees.
He wanted to be gentle with you, soft, loving. Show you how much he liked you but when you shifted your ass back into him. Wiggling back and forth for him, he couldn't help himself. You little temptress. His hand landed firmly on your ass and what he didn't expect was the full fledged roar of a moan that came from you. His dick twitched from the sound.
"Fuck," your voice muffled by the her silky wet cunt. Her hand lifting your head up just enough to see your eyes as Harry started to slide into your velvet cave. His hand bruising your hip as he cursed under his breath.
"Feel good, H?" Florence wore that smug smile as his lust blown eyes met hers. His snappy comments and witty attitude put at bay by your contracting walls having a hard time keeping up with his girth.
"God, sweet girl, your pussy is fuckin' tight." He thrusted a bit further into your narrow opening, your hands dug deep into Florence's legs as you whimpered. Her hands ran over your hair as she shushed you.
"Oh my g--" you choked out as he finally settled fully in you. His hands pulled the round flesh of your ass back to see where you two were connected. He pulled out only a little just to push slowly back in. His head fall to his chest as your vortex sucked him back in. "Move, please, move."
Your hips only swayed slightly before he was pounding into you. You were thankfully you had a job in front of you to do or else you would have been reaching another orgasm in mere seconds. His length hitting that spot inside of you every single time.
You had to force yourself to concentrate, to not let your eyes roll back into your head whenever he pumped into you. Your tongue ran circles around her clit, your fingers slid into her easy. Nothing but moans filled your small apartment, your bed creaking from how hard he was thrusting into you.
You felt so sorry for your downstairs neighbors.
Her hand tightened in your hair as his hand tightened around your hip. You were pushed, pulled, tugged, manhandled, and holy fuck was it making your walls clench tighter. Your tongue was more determined than ever to make fast work of getting her off when you felt your fast approaching end over the horizon.
"Oh, oh," she moaned her hips bouncing down on your face as she fucked herself on your tongue and fingers.
"'M close." Harry grunted from behind you, his hand slapping down on your ass again.
You didn’t have the time or capacity to enjoy the stinging pain that went through your body. Tingling sensation all the way through your core when you felt the walls against your fingers start to contract. A wildly erotic moan came from her as Harry's hand reached around to rub fast pace circles on your clit.
Stars danced along your vision as your release hit you. Sloppy thrust of Harry's hips slowed down as a warmth filled you. Overrunning from your puffy, abused, pussy down your legs to the bedspread. Your body collapsed into the open arms of your now girlfriend as Harry leaned over your back.
"Why'd we wait so long to do that?" You asked once your mind cleared from the fog of your two orgasms. Laughs came from in front and behind you. Chaste kisses against whatever available skin was in their reach.
"We could always do it again, love."
#Harry Styles#Florence Pugh#Harry Styles x Reader#Florence Pugh x Reader#Harry Styles Fanfic#Florence Pugh Fanfic#Harry Styles Fanfiction#Florence Pugh Fanfiction#Fanfic#Fanfiction#W|W#Harry Styles x Florence Pugh#Writing#Mine#InTheMiddle#Harry Styles x You#Harry Styles x Y/N#Florence Pugh x You#Florence Pugh x Y/N
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