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alastor-simp · 3 days

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Female Demon Who Sings Like "Ado" - Hazbin Hotel Gang Part 2/2

❥Note: Here is Part 2 of the hazbin hotel gang reacting to a demon who sings like my favorite singer Ado.

Might have more than one favorite song choice for certain characters. Enjoy everyone:)

Niffty🪡

🪡Niffty tend to listen to music from time to time. She listened to more songs from the 1950s, but she did expand on listening to other songs from different time periods. She loved listening to music when she cleaned around the hotel, especially when she cleaned next to Alastor, as he was always playing jazz from his microphone.

🪡Quickly sweeping the halls of the hotel, Niffty heard the sounds of someone humming. Filled with curiosity, she sped to where the sounds was coming from. The humming was coming from the kitchen, where you happened to be. Niffty peaked her head through the door, and saw you near the stove, mixing something in a pot. Your humming escalated to full on singing, as you moved side to side.

🪡Turning to grab something from the counter, you were met with a large sparkling eye staring at you, causing you to scream. Niffty was bouncing on the counter in excitement, amazed at your singing. "OH MY SATAN YOU SING IN JAPANESE?! NAZE OSHIETE KURENAKATTA NODESU KA?" (Translation: Why didn't you tell me?). Taking deep breaths to calm down from the sudden scare, you stayed a bit silent as you looked away from Niffty. She caught on to your reaction, and ask what was wrong, while also apologizing for scaring you. You told Niffty it was okay and that you weren't upset about that, but just embarrassed cause you weren't use to singing in front of others. You turn the heat down on the stove, and walked over to the kitchen table, taking a seat.

🪡Niffty sped to one of the chairs, and took a seat on it, smiling at you. Heaving a sigh you told her about your past life, how you were a famous singer in Japan, but suddenly died out of nowhere and was casted down to Hell. Despite being famous, you preferred your privacy, so you kept your identity a secret from everyone. Niffty listened to your story, despite her creepy smile enlarging, her eyes were kind. She did ask you if you wanted to continue singing, to which you nodded yes too.

🪡Niffty told you to wait a second, as she hurried out of the kitchen, leaving you by yourself. She quickly came back with Alastor behind her. "Sir said he would help you!" She bounced with enthusiasm, earning a small chuckle from Alastor. You looked at the both of them, telling Niffty it was okay while also apologizing to Alastor since you knew he probably was busy with other things and didn't want to affect his schedule, but Niffty just ran behind you and began pushing your legs, telling you to go.

🪡Alastor, having listening to Nifftys persistence, decided to put in a good word for you with Mimzy's studio, allowing you to be hired there as a singer, but you made an exception to wear a mask that covered your face to conceal your identity. Mimzy was fine with it as long as you brought in lots of fellows into the studio. Her business became booming with new residents coming in to see you perform. You had become a bigger star then Mimzy, which ticked her off a bit, but she would get over it.

🪡Niffty would always attend your shows, having become a bit of an obsessed fan. She would help with writing new songs with you as she was very fluent in Japanese as well. Her favorite song/song cover of yours is "Darling Dance"

(Side Note: Niffty understands and speaks Japanese, its confirmed on the Hazbin Hotel Wikia)

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Husk🍺

🍺Husk didn't mind music from time to time. He was a classy man, so he stuck to more of the oldies and jazz-type of songs, but he would listen to others as long as it didn't bother his ears, this man is a cat demon so his ears are sensitive.

🍺He had no idea you had an amazing voice until the day he caught you at the Consent Club. Him and the other residents at the hotel were drinking and having a fun time. Husk needed to get some fresh air, so he headed to the club's balcony. Once he was outside, he saw you standing at the edge of the balcony, leaning against the metal chain that was preventing you from falling. You were quietly singing a soft tune, catching Husk off-guard. He was a bit shocked, but he started to smile as he shut the door behind him.

🍺The sound of the door closing made you stop singing as you turned around, shocked to see Husk standing behind you, with a small smile. "Nice voice their kid." Husk walked closer to you, while you were mentally panicking that he caught you. "Oh- I-I I-um...I'm Sorry!" Yelling out, you sped past Husk, leaving him along confused on the balcony. "What the hell was that about?" he thought, as he stood there, wondering why you overreacted.

🍺When he came back to the group, you acted like nothing happened, and avoided looking at Husk. The both of you didn't say anything, even when you headed back to the hotel. Husk still couldn't gather why you acted that way when he caught you singing. He wanted to figure out what was wrong, so he headed up to your room, knocking on the door. The door was opened, and he came inside, seeing you sitting on the bed. Husk slowly walked up to you, taking a seat on the bed. "Hey kid, you alright? He calmly waited for your response. You didn't say anything, but you nodded your head. The both of you stayed silent, until Husk decided to break it. "If you need to talk about something kid, I'm all ears. Talking to this old bartender here may do you some good."

🍺You have a small laugh at what Husk said, before you apologized to him for running away like that. You started explaining your past life, being born in Japan and becoming a very famous singer at a young age. You loved singing so much, but you preferred doing it when your identity was kept a secret. When you had seen Husk, you panicked and had no choice, but to run away. Husk listened to you, wrapping on of his wings around you giving you some comfort, which you appreciated. "Nothing wrong with that kid." He could read you like a book, seeing the desire in your eyes to continue singing. He did ask you if you wanted to perform again to which you nodded at.

🍺Husk was an overlord in the past, but he lost that status when he sold his soul with Alastor. He, however, still had control of his many casinos, and they could use some new entertainment. He had to discuss it with his boss, Alastor, first. Surprisingly, Alastor allowed it. You told Husk he didn't have to go through all of these lengths for you, but he said it was no problem.

🍺He got you a tuxedo outfit that you could where during your performances, along with a mask. He had you perform at one of his most popular casinos, where there were tons of demons gambling till they dropped. The demons around that were gambling fell into a trance when you first performed. Many demons had recorded your performance and sent it to others, which caused a crowd of demons to flood into the casino now, wanting to gamble while also wanting to here you sing.

🍺Husk always made sure to be there when you performed. While he was gambling, he made sure to keep an eye on you, making sure you were okay. He also helped with your exits in case someone ran up to you, wanting to be creepy or try to take your mask off. You and him had gotten closer as a result of this. He would always listen to you talk about a new song idea when he was cleaning up the bar, and giving you some of his ideas as well. His favorite song of yours is "Readymade"

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Alastor🦌

🦌Alastor's life revolved around music. He was the radio demon, so of course he thoroughly enjoyed listening to tunes. He wasn't big on today's modern music, finding it to be a bunch of wacky noise, but he could appreciate some of them. Jazz and electric swing were his top genres to listen to, and he played them during his broadcasts.

🦌He had met you when you first arrived at the hotel, seeking redemption. He did watched you judgmentally, wondering if you were planning to cause harm to anyone in the hotel, but he quickly calculated that you were just a regular normal sinner. The both of you interacted from time to time, as you appreciated his love for music and would discuss a bit about it.

🦌Alastor never would have guessed you were musically talented until he discovered you, singing in your room. He was humming to himself, walking down the halls, when he heard a feminine voice, singing a foreign melody. Alastor moved to where the singing was coming from and had appeared in front of your door. The door was opened a smidge, allowing Alastor look through the small crack, seeing you in your room. You were holding a notepad in your hand, while sitting on your bed. Your eyes were closed as you allowed your voice to belt out the lyrics that were written on the notepad. Alastors smiled widen as he continued to observe you. "Well well, seems like our guest is a little songbird."

🦌Once you were done, you grabbed the pen that was next to you and began to write in your notepad. The sound of clapping erupted from the side of your room, causing you to turn. Alastor was leaning against your door frame, clapping as his mouth was drawn into a smirk. "Utterly spectacular, my dear! Your voice was so charming you could have been mistaken for an Angel! HAHAHA!" Alastor laugh to himself as he walked closer to your bed. Your body was in literally shock, and you had dropped the pen and notepad from hand. You quickly grabbed the blanket from your bed, and covered your body and face with it, yelling at Alastor to not look at you.

🦌Quite an odd reaction. Alastor raised an eyebrow as he stared at your cocoon form on the bed. He motioned closer and sat on the bed, crossing his legs, as his crimson eyes kept watching you. "Whatever is wrong, my dear? Why do you not want me to look at you?" You gave no response back to Alastor, as you stayed wrapped up in the blanket. He tilted his head at you, as he moved a bit closer to you, grabbing what seemed to be your shoulders under the blanket, and moved you to face him. "Darling~. It is quite rude not to look at someone when they are talking to you."

🦌He could feel your body stiffen, when he touched you, but you still refused to remove yourself from the blanket. Alastor leaned down closer, speaking in a soft whisper: "My dear~, Look at me." His ears picked up your loud sigh, as he saw you slowly unravel yourself from the blanket shield, seeing your redden cheeks. "There you are! Now then! Care to tell me why you hid yourself away from me!. He exuberantly said, as he continued to stare at you, with a gleeful smile. You apologized to him, saying you were just embarrassed that he caught you singing. He did ask why should you feel embarrassed before you gave him another sigh. You did say you could tell him your past life, if he wanted to hear it, which he nodded his head at you, leaning closer, making you flush more.

🦌You were born in Japan, and as you grew older you had a passion for music, but you stuck to doing little things like song covers and whatnot on the internet. Eventually, you happened to be discovered and hired by a large music company, and started to create your own original music, but without showing yourself and identity to others. You had to slowly explain to him what an "Utaite" was as he was from the 1900s, so he never once heard that term before. Once you finished, you did jumped a bit when you felt his hands move to your cheeks, squishing them.

🦌"Thank you telling me, my dear! But I do have to ask, why hide yourself?" He wasn't being judgemental, he was just very curious. You told him that its what made you comfortable and you rather stick with it, which Alastor responded back with a "Fair Enough." Alastor did ask you, if you wanted to sing again, to which you responded with a quiet yes. "How about a deal my dear? And no, not for your soul. More of a partnership, rather. I could feature you in some of my broadcasts! You won't have to show yourself, and you can sing to your heart's content. What do you say?" Alastor was met with a huge smile from you, as you nodded your head, shouting yes. Chuckling at your reaction, Alastor stood up, pointing his hand towards you, telling you to take it and come with him, as you both would head to his radio tower.

🦌After a few days of setting up and preparing, the both of you were ready your first session in Alastors broadcast. He knew not to reveal your real name and decided to pronounce you as the "Radio Siren." The minute you performed, Alastor was able to sense with his powers, more residents switching on to his station, pleasing him. Your first broadcast together was a hit, satisifying both you and Alastor, especially Alastor since he knew Vox would be fuming at this.

🦌He interacted more with you after that, before you were just associates and now you both were besties. He would pitch in his ideas with you for new songs you were coming up with. He did want to do a duet with you, taking upon himself to learn some Japanese from you and Niffty. His favorite songs of yours is "All Night Radio" and "Aishite Aishite Aishite"

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Sir Pentious🐍

🐍Sir Pentious music tastes shifted to more of the classical side. He was from the 1800s, so he wasn't all to familiar with today's music, but he wouldn't mind indulging in it from time to time, especially if it made him appear cool.

🐍He and you had become quick friends after he joined the hotel for real this time. He was a bit of an odd ball, but he was sweet when he interacted with you. He soon found about your beautiful singing when he was slithering down the hotel hallways. He was holding specific tools and metal parts that were intended to fix parts of his air ship. His egg bois were following behind him, holding other tools that Sir Pentious couldn't carry. One of his egg bois had stopped walking, and began to walk closer to one of the doors that was slightly opened. This caught the attention of the other egg bois, as they huddled together, peaking their egg heads to look inside the room. Sir Pentious noticed, and slithered back towards them. "Minionssss, come along now. No time to wa-" Sir pentious words drew to a halt as he realized what caught the attention of his minions.

🐍Inside of the hotel library, there was hardly anyone there, except you. Your hands were scribbling something down on a piece of paper while sitting on the couch. While your hands were at work, you were swaying your head side to side, completely immersed in your singing. Sir Pentious mouth was wide open in shock, as he continued to observe you, captured by your beautiful singing. It soon ended when one of the egg bois dropped the heavy tool to the ground, letting his presence be known. Hearing the sound, you turned to see Sir Pentious near the door with his egg bois staring at you. Realizing he was caught he fumbled out an apology. "AAHH! Misssss Y/N. I apologize for ummmmm I-ummm." He couldn't think of the words to say as he kept stuttering. You quickly covered your face with your note pad, face redden from embarrassment.

🐍One of the egg bois noticed your reaction, and waddled over to you: "Are you alright ma'am?' Sir Pentious quickly realized you were upset and was struggling with what to do. He remembered some of Charlies lessons and made his way over to you. He had sat on the couch and with shaking hands, moved his hand to your head, giving it a pat. "F-Forgive me. I was not my intention to make you upset." You shook your head at his words, before you removed your notepad from your face, saying you weren't really upset, just more flustered. Sir Pentious motioned for one of his egg bois to come to him, picking the little egg up and placing it your arms, hoping it gave you some comfort. It helped a bit as you hugged the egg to yourself, patting his head, as it hugged you back. "Boss really likes your singing." said the egg boi you were holding, which caused the snake next to you to turn red. A small smile came to your face, as you patted the eggs head more. Sir Pentious felt awkward to ask, but he did question why you were so flustered when he saw you singing.

🐍Heaving a deep sigh, you told him it was gonna be a long story. You told him your life story, going over your time alive in Japan, and how you went from a simple cover singer to becoming one of the most popular singers in your home country. While you enjoyed doing what you loved, it was always better for you when your identity was kept a secret as it made you more comfortable. Sir Pentious and his egg bois all listened to you speak, astonished about your past life. Sir Pentious did ask if you were ever perform again, to which you replied with a yes, but it wasn't going to be easy to hide your identity in hell. A haughty laugh was heard next to you, as Sir Pentious got up, placing a hand on his chest. "I AM SSSSIR PENTIOUSSSSS. AMAZING OVERLORD AND INVENTOR! AND I WILL HELP CRAFT THE BEST CLOAKING DEVICE FOR YOU! BE RIGHT BACK! HURRY MY MINIONS, WE MUST HEAD TO THE AIR SHIP AT ONCE!" He outrageously spewed all this out to you, as he quickly slithered out of the library, leaving you by yourself.

🐍The next day, he marched himself into you room, giving a salute, before presenting the little gadget in your hand. It was a sort of charmed bracelet, with a large diamond in the center of it. Once you attached it to your arm, Sir Pentious pressed the button, causing a slight shock and stinging pain. it quickly subsided and the device flashed out a light and began to materialize into a person. It soon turned into a hologram of a random demon, but this hologram was different, when you moved your hand, it copied you. "I have sssucessfully crafted a holographic device, but there isss a ssslight difference with thisss one. The gadget isss able to fuse with your ssssoul, which allowsss it to copy your movements. Not only does it copy you, but you can place the device anywhere and it will appear there. It may allow you to perform anywhere without having to reveal yourself."

🐍You literally where gobsmacked at this. You had no idea something like this could be invented, but Sir Pentious was able to craft something like this. You were so happy that you hugged him, making him go stiff, not use to this sort of thing, but he quickly relaxed. After testing it out for a bit, you were able to use it as you headed to a very popular music club in the pride ring, with Sir Pentious, of course, to make sure the device performed well and didn't malfunction. You had placed the gadget somewhere on stage, and when it came time to perform, you had basically walked the hologram to the stage and performed without a hitch. No one even noticed that it was a hologram, as they were more enraptured with your singing, and kept asking for an encore.

🐍Your popularity at the club slowly began to rise the more and more you performed, going by the name "Nightingale." You were so thankful for Sir Pentious, for doing this for you, but he said it was nothing as he was already crafting something like this for turf wars. Well thats what he said, but his egg boi blurted out that he was up all night make this for you, exposing him and causing him to yell at the little egg while you laughed. Sir Pentious would always be watching you perform at the club, as he wanted to monitor the device in case something happened and it would result in the hologram to disappear. He secretly also attended to hear your performances as he was charmed by your voice. His favorite sing of yours is "Buriki no Dance."

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ghostofaboy · 1 day

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... Your Call Is Important

Summary: Dave, Marcus and Javier continue their day together. (Direct Sequel to Hold Please…)

Pairing: Dave York/Javier Peña/Marcus Pike Rating: Explicit | Word Count: 2457 Part 2 of 2

Warnings: Oral sex, anal sex, double anal penetration, threesome - m/m/m

Note: This has not been beta read so I apologize for any mistakes. This is a fic with gay/bi characters. Please make sure you’ve read the warnings. Dividers: @saradika-graphics

As he rested on the large hotel bed, Dave found himself watching the tiny dust motes float through the air. Beside him, Marcus lay panting, his head tucked against Dave’s neck as the younger man came down from his stifled orgasm. The cool air of the room sent goosebumps dancing across their skin as their sticky, sweat drenched forms remained tangled together after the activities moments earlier.

“You doing ok?” Dave murmured into Marcus’ hair, his gazed drifting down to the younger man’s still painfully erect cock, held in place with a black cock-ring.

“Yeah.” Marcus shifted his head to look up at Dave, his beautiful brown eyes looking darker than ever with dilated pupils almost erasing all color. “I’m good. Fuck, I wanna cum though.” Marcus laughed nervously, and Dave couldn’t stop himself from planting a kiss on his forehead.

“You will, baby boy. You just have to be patient and let us old men get a second wind.”

“Who you calling old?” Javier muttered, striding back into the bedroom and throwing a hand towel over to Dave. “I’ll be good to go soon enough, precioso.” Javier threw Marcus a wink, cheekily waving his soft cock at them both.

“You haven’t changed at all, Peña.” Dave chuckled as he gently began to wipe the cum from Marcus’ face. “Still the same bullshit and swagger as always.”

“I could say the same to you, York.” Javier climbed back onto the bed and settled down next to Marcus, propping himself up on his elbow. “You still have to be in charge, don’t you?”

“You used to like me being in charge.” Dave threw the sticky towel back at Javier, who threw it down onto the floor, glaring. “Or at the very least you never complained when I’d have you cumming on my cock.”

“Listen,” Javier frowned, pointing at finger at Dave. “I don’t need another round of-”

“How did you two meet?” Marcus cut in, shifting to sit up. “You promised to tell me and well, neither of you are perking up just yet, so we have the time.”

“So rude, baby boy.” Dave chuckled, shaking his head, looking down at his still flaccid cock. “But, you’re not wrong.”

“You want to tell the story, I assume.” Javier smirked as he idly stroked his dick.

“Well, I’ll start.” Dave grinned. “We were both at god awful joint departmental function and-”

“It was for charity.” Javier interrupted. “And it wasn’t that bad. Just, well, you know how these things are… just boring.”

“Right.” Dave rolled his eyes. “Anyway. I’m trying not to drink myself into a coma just for something to do when I spot this one.” Dave nodded his head towards Javier. “He was flirting up a storm with a very disinterested intern, and so-”

“She wasn’t an intern.” Javier scowled. “Fuck York, you make it sound like she was just a kid. She was a junior administrative aid, and for the record, she was very interested.”

“I thought you were letting me tell this story, Peña.”

“Well, you’re fucking telling it wrong.” Javier shrugged.

“So what happened then?” Marcus gave a small laugh. “After Dave spotted you?”

“Look, long story short, we ended up blowing each other in a side room.” Javier waved his hand dismissively. “After that we hooked up every few weeks until… until we didn’t.”

“Well, that’s a shitty version.” Marcus shook his head. “I want the long story, not the cliff-notes.”

“And I want to fuck you again.” Javier reached over to pinch Marcus’ nipple, before locking eyes with Dave. “And I’m ready to go again, viejo.”

Dave’s eyes wandered down Javier’s body and sure enough, jutting out proudly, was the other man’s growing erection. Glancing over at Marcus, Dave was just in time to see the young man lick his lips in anticipation before smiling at Javier.

“I’ll tell you the full story next time, baby boy.” Dave purred into Marcus’ ear, kissing the younger man softly. “And fuck you, Peña, I’m ready.”

“Please let me cum this time.” Marcus gestured down to his trapped cock, his smile growing in relief as Dave nodded.

“I got you.” Javier stroked a hand down Marcus’ face, gently cupping the younger man’s jaw, before leaning in for a long tender kiss.

Dave watched for a moment as his two lovers melded together, Javier’s tongue darting into Marcus’ mouth, all the while pumping his cock. Dave shook his head, allowing himself a smirk at Javier’s determination to get hard before him. The man never changed. And that was enough to wake Dave’s own member, and as he reached over to free Marcus from the cock-ring, Dave felt his dick twitch awake.

Marcus sighed into Javier’s mouth as Dave released him, tossing the ring onto the nightstand. Settling back onto the pillows, Dave watched and waited for the other two men to part, trying to push away the feeling of jealousy that tugged at the back of his mind. The softness that Javier poured into Marcus was something he and Javier never had, and something Dave could never allow himself to give to the younger man. Finally, Javier pulled back, smiling down at Marcus, their eyes locked on each other before they eventually turned to Dave.

“You good?” Dave forced himself back into the moment, pushing down any bubbling feeling, instead tugging on his erection.

“We’re good.” Marcus smiled back at him with flushed pink cheeks, while Javier simply gave a quick nod.

“Wonderful.” Dave reached over, pinching one of Marcus’ nipples hard, pulling a gasp and soft moan from the young agent. “Now, why don’t you come ride this cock and let me fill your ass. Let me add my cum to Peña’s.”

A low groan sounded from behind the grinning Marcus as Javier’s eye roamed down his body to Marcus’ ass, and Dave knew what he was thinking. He was thinking of the load he’d left inside Marcus’ already sloppy hole a short time ago. Perhaps once Dave added his own seed Marcus would be able to hold it in or perhaps, Dave hoped, he wouldn’t.

Swinging a leg over Dave’s torso, Marcus swiftly straddled him, his red leaking tip dripping onto Dave’s stomach as he moved. Over to their left Javier watched with dark, lust filled eyes, his gaze fixed on Marcus as he lined Dave’s cock up with his entrance. Then with a long, obscenely deep moan, Marcus sank down, engulfing Dave in his heat.

“Fuck baby b-” Dave pinched his eye shut for a moment to collect himself as Marcus immediately began to move. “In a rush?”

Placing his hand firmly on Marcus’ hip to still him, and after one final roll of his hip, Marcus stopped, staring grumpily down at Dave. Javier chuckled, shifting on the bed to kneel beside Dave’s head and nudged his cock against his lips.

Locking eyes with Marcus, Dave slowly parted his lips to allow Javier entry, more than a little proud as both men groaned in response. Javier thrust lazily into Dave’s mouth, who flattened his tongue and sucked the tip hard. Held steadily in place, Marcus watched the show, his eyes flicking between Dave’s steely gaze and the sight of seeing the older, sterner agent with a thick dick in between his lips.

Releasing Javier’s cock, Dave began to kiss and lick along the length, pulling hisses and moans from Javier. Still holding an impatient Marcus with one hand, Dave beckoned him forward with the other, flicking the tip of his tongue across the slit of Javier’s cock. With a smirk that made Dave twitch inside the younger man, Marcus slowly leaned forward until he was face to face with Dave.

Then quick as a flash Marcus pounced forward, his lips meeting Dave’s to kiss him sloppily and clumsily with Javier’s girth trapped between their lips.

“Mierda.” Javier growled above them, thrust his cock toward to fuck between their mouths. “Both of you lick it. That’s right… fuck.”

Dave swirled his tongue around the tip while Marcus focused on the shaft, reaching out to fondle and tug on Javier’s balls. Dave kept his eyes fixed on Marcus, watching as the younger man sucked along the length before finding Dave’s lips to give him a slobbering kiss before working his way back up towards Javier's bush.

Satisfied that Marcus wasn’t going to blow his load the second he started to move now, Dave released Javier with a pop, turning his head to look up at the other man.

“I think it’s time to fuck our boy, don’t you?”

Javier frowned for a moment, before a single eyebrow quirked up as he caught onto Dave’s meaning. Glancing at Marcus planted on Dave’s cock, Dave could see the uncertainty in Javier’s eyes. Frowning again, Javier shook his head.

“Are you sure?”

“He can take it.” Dave playfully slapped Marcus’ ass, pulling a surprised yelp and laugh from the young man. “Can’t you, baby boy? Should I send Peña the pictures of you with that red dildo in you?” Looking back over at Javier, Dave grinned, dropping his voice to an exaggerated whisper. “I could fit both my hands in him afterward.”

Javier growled, pulling his cock back and away from Marcus and Dave’s lip, and climbed swiftly along the bed until he was behind Marcus again. From his seat atop Dave, Dave felt Marcus shudder in anticipation as Javier busied himself squeezing out more lube.

“You can take it.” Dave soothed, rubbing gently circles on Marcus’ hip. “We’re both going to fill you and it’ll feel so good when you cum.”

Marcus nodded, making a soft needy sound as Javier placed a hand on his back to push him forward slightly. As Marcus folded himself over, resting his face in the crook of Dave’s neck, Dave watched as Javier lined himself up. Dave could feel the other man’s heavily cock resting against the base of his own. Then slowly, achingly slowly, Javier began to push in.

Marcus arched his back and groaned, a low throaty sound that had Dave biting back his own moans as Javier continued to ease his way in. The sensation of Javier’s cock sliding against his own flooded Dave with a dizzying rush of heat that steadily built as the other man stretched Marcus’ entrance, splitting him open until he was fully buried alongside Dave.

Marcus was panting into the crook of Dave’s neck, making soft whimpers and moans while his hole spasmed around them both. Javier’s face was flushed as he locked eyes with Dave, and Dave understood immediately. Despite all the swagger and bullshit earlier, Javier wanted, perhaps needed, Dave to take the lead.

With a simple nod from Dave, Javier began to slowly and cautiously move. Keeping his eyes fixed on Dave, Javier dragged his cock along Dave’s length, the two men held snugly inside Marcus’ ass. The feeling was electrifying, pulling a strangled cry from Marcus along with a muffled curse.

Javier began to roll his hips, tenderly at first, still wary of hurting Marcus, his eyes gazing into Dave’s. Eventually, Marcus lifted his head up, gasping as he looked over his shoulder towards Javier.

“Please.” His voice caught in his throat as he begged. “Fuck... fuck me. Hard. I want it hard.”

“You heard him.” Dave’s eyes never left Javier’s.

Baring his teeth, Javier bucked forward sharply, plunging his length deep into Marcus before withdrawing and jolting forward again. Grabbing Marcus by the shoulders, Javier began to fuck the younger man, taking control of the pace for him and Dave. All the while, Dave met his eye, feeling the lust inside him build as he watched it inside Javier's dark eyes.

Despite his cockiness, Dave had never done anything like this before, and it was taking everything he had to keep his composure. Every nerve sang with Javier’s thrusts. His head throbbed with the intoxicating fog conjured by Marcus’ soft whimpers. All he wanted to do was throw his head back and howl as he came as the heat took over his entire body. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. So Dave held Javier’s eye and watched as the gruff DEA agent came undone.

Red-faced with his breath coming out in bursts from between gritted teeth, Javier pounded into Marcus, the friction of his cock against Dave’s pulling both men closer to the edge quicker than either had anticipated.

“F-fuck.” Javier stuttered, his hips faltering for a couple of strokes. “I’m gonna... I’m gonna…”

“Me too.” Marcus cried out as he came with a shudder, his muscles tensing around the cocks in his ass. With a cry, Dave felt Marcus spilling himself over the older man’s stomach, before collapsing boneless on top of Dave.

Javier kept his eyes locked with Dave as he came, his hips stuttering as Dave felt his cum flooding into Marcus. Dave was almost sure Javier mouthed something to him, but as his own climax hit, Dave’s vision blurred as he tumbled over the edge. Gripping the bedsheets, Dave arched his back as he emptied himself into Marcus.

“How was your meeting?” Carol’s voice was soft in his ear as Dave looked out of the hotel room window out onto the city streets below him. The sun was just beginning to set, sending streaks of orange flaring out into the sky. “Do you think you’ll be home tonight?”

“We ran over.” Dave glanced over to the bed and the two men fast asleep in each other’s arms. Shifting the phone to his other ear, Dave wandered over to the hard, modern looking chair, running his hand along the smooth gray fabric. “I’ll be home tomorrow. Afternoon at the latest. The hotel is nice, though.”

“Well, that’s a plus.” His wife laughed before a noise in the background caught her attention. “Oh! I have to go, Cindy’s back with the girls.”

“Ok.” Dave sighed at the mention of their neighbor’s name, the woman Carol had been fucking for two years. “You two have fun.”

“Oh, don’t be like that.” Carol teased, the sounds of the girls in the background getting louder. “You have your fun, I have mine. Say hi to Marcus for me. I’ll see you tomorrow, honey. I love you.”

“I will.” Dave couldn’t stop himself from giving a soft laugh. “Love you too.”

Hanging up, Dave looked over to the bed and the two naked men, finding them both still sleeping soundly. Marcus resting his head on Javier’s chest smiled contentedly as Javier huffed in his sleep. Climbing into the large bed to sandwich Marcus between him and Javier, Dave settled into the pillows, watching the dust motes dance through the warm beams of light while he waited for his lovers to wake.

taglist: @aurorawritestoescape, @vabeachazn, @perotovar, @morallyinept, @for-a-longlongtime

#javier peña #dave york #marcus pike #narcos #the equalizer 2 #the mentalist #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fiction #pedro pascal characters

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zorosprincess · 1 day

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Succiduous pt.2

PRONOUNCED - Suc•cid•u•ous | \sək`sədooəs\ DEFINITION - Ready to fall, falling.

PAIRING - Miya Twins x Reader WC - 8.6K GENRE - Fluff, some Angst CW - a lot of fluff, unrequited love if you squint, some angsty scenes, some injuries, punches are thrown at one point, a breakup, general language warnings, the usual bullying that comes hand in hand with the miya twins SYNOPSIS - The thing about growing up with the Miya twins... You learn how to ignore things, even things fight in front of your face. Growing up with the Miya twins means you spend your whole life falling without realizing it... until you were ready.

PREV PART | MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

AGE 15

Your last trimester of middle school was the first time that a boy was brave enough to break through the barrier in front of you known as the Miya twins. He was a boy from the boys' soccer team at your school, the captain actually.

The girls' and boys' teams had a joint practice and he'd walked right up to you at the end with a charming smile on his face.

“My name is Tamura Eichi. You’re l/n y/n. Right?”

You had nodded dumbly then, not expecting him to know who you were. He was tall and attractive and knew who you were.

“I think you’re very pretty and I was hoping you might want to go on a date with me.”

You would’ve described your face at that moment akin to Atsumu’s face whenever a girl turned down his advances. Absolutely gobsmacked.

You had stood by as girl after girl had confessed to Osamu and Atsumu, but had never been confessed to yourself. You didn’t think that anyone would like you like that, at least no one brave enough to slip by the twins to get to you. You hadn’t realized that you’d been staring at him dumbfounded, not giving an answer, until his voice came again.

“So… is that a—”

“Oh my gosh, sorry.” You laughed awkwardly and then smiled up at him, nodding. “Yes I would really like that.”

He laughed at you. “You’re cute.” Your face flushed deeply and your eyes widened, completely speechless. “Can I take you out tomorrow night?” You nodded dumbly - not trusting your voice. “Great, bye y/n, see you tomorrow.”

You walked in a daze to meet Osamu and Atsumu that day. Dopey grin on your face as you met them outside the front gate of school. You barely even noticed as Atsumu called your name when you got closer to them.

“She looks weird.” He narrowed his eyes and scrutinized you, looking you up and down as you stood there. “’Samu wha’s wrong with‘er?” He asked, referring to the dopey look on your face, something he wasn't used to seeing.

“Shuttup Miya.” You snipped at him, trying to dispose of your smile as you adjusted your bags on your shoulders. You missed the flash of hurt in his eyes at the use of his last name.

“Why ya so smiley y/n/n?” Osamu asked, nudging your shoulder, you got caught off balance and nearly tumbled to the ground with a shriek. Atsumu barked out a laugh as Osamu barely caught you. “Easy there clumsy.”

Both he and Atsumu had grown over the past year and had finally pulled ahead of you on the height scale, their forms lingering above yours. You clung onto Osamu's arm as you rebalanced yourself.

“Miysam,” you singsonged, not even caring that you almost just ate it, “I got asked on a date.” You beamed up at him.

Both boys froze and looked down at you. “Ya what?” Osamu asked, staring down at you in shock.

“Who’d wanna go out wit ya?” Atsumu screwed up his face in annoyance and glared down at you before sending a ‘can you believe this’ look over to Osamu. “Wit ya ugly mug?”

“Shut yer face, loudmouth.” You growled at him, quickly pushing a hand out and shoving his arm.

Having not expected you to shove him, he quickly lost his balance and tumbled into the ground. Osamu let out a loud snort of a laugh and you drew your eyes back up to him, painting the smile back on your face.

“Tamura Eichi.” You breathed his name, swooning at the sound of it rolling off your tongue. “He’s captain of the boys’ soccer team.” Your smile grew. “He wants ta take me out t’morrow.”

“I don’t like ‘im.” Atsumu said from his position still on the floor. “Heard ‘bout him, ‘e’s full o’ himself.”

“And you’re not? Thing 2.” You scoffed down at him and shot a quick kick to his thigh, one not meant to hurt but to make a point.

“Shuttup meanie.” Atsumu scrambled up, glaring at you as he straightened.

“Quit yer whinin’.” Osamu smacked the back of Atsumu’s head and you giggled as the latter stumbled from the force. “Look at our little y/n/n, growin’ up. Did’ya say yes?” You nodded excitedly and he smiled fondly down at you. “That mean yer headin’ home tonight? Or ya still comin’ for movie night?”

Atsumu and Osamu both looked down at you expectantly for an answer.

“Of course m’comin’ t'watch movies. Like I’d abandon ya both. Ya both’d be lost without me.” You went up on your toes, slinging your arms over their necks and yanking them down. You laughed as they both stumbled, being pulled down by your weight before you realized why you’d been avoiding touching them too much.

Both of them were still covered in sweat and you let out a sound of disgust. You slid your arms away from them quickly, attempting to wipe them on the fabric of the soccer jacket you still adorned.

“Ewwwww,” you shuddered and shook your body dramatically, “you both are gross and are taking showers the second we get home.”

You didn’t have time to register the playful glint in Osamu’s eyes before he lunged at you. You quickly dodged him as your eyes widened. “But y/n/n, ya love us.”

“No.” You warned, stiffening your arm out in front of you, flat palm held in his direction. “Don’t you come near me ‘Samu.” You warned, starting to back away but the smirk he gave told you that you’d have to run.

“C’mon y/n/n.” He laughed and lunged again and you shrieked. Quickly turning, you bolted away from him. He chased. “Yer not gonna ‘scape.” He laughed as you quickly changed directions, barely missing his arm coming to trap you.

“No!” You laughed as you sprinted back towards Atsumu. “Yer all gross an’ sweaty. Get ‘way!” You skidded and threw yourself behind Atsumu. “’Tsumi!” You shrieked with a laugh. “Protect me!”

You were greeted by a vicious laugh as Atsumu moved from in front of you. “Nah.” He gripped your arm so you couldn’t move away again. “On ya own.”

You gasped as you felt Osamu’s arm wrap around your waist from behind. “Traiter!” You shrieked at Atsumu as you were hauled away from him and your back hit Osamu’s chest. You could feel his damp shirt against your neck and you made a noise of protest. “Lemme go.” You whined, struggling to throw his grip from your waist.

“Ah c’mon, y/n/n.” Osamu laughed and dragged you into his armpit.

You shrieked. Line = crossed. A muffled ‘ew’ dragged its way out of your mouth as he tried to rub your head into his sweat.

“S’not that bad.” Osamu laughed as you struggled and gagged.

“I hate ya!” You cried as Osamu loosened his grasp and you tried to pull away again. “M’gonna start sayin’ I like ‘Tsumi more.” You whined but both the twins laughed.

“Tha’s ‘kay.” Osamu laughed before hauling you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

“Put me down!” You shrieked as your face was suddenly met with his back. It was still soaking wet and you gagged. “This’s disgusting Osamu! Yer back’s all sweaty.”

“Smell’s good?” Atsumu’s face came into view with a smirk painted onto it. Both of them laughed at you as you gagged and pounded your fists.

“I lied. I hate ya both.” You groaned as they kept walking. “Ne’er gon’ talk ta either o’ ya again.” You protested but they just ignored you as they continued to their house.

Your promise was forgotten the second that you’d taken a shower at their house. They let you have the first shower and fought over who got the second.

You’d stolen a drawer from each of them in their dressers over the years and kept a handful of clothes and other essentials in them. It was something Atsumu never failed to complain about and something you’d never failed to smack him over the head for when he wouldn’t stop on his own accord.

You’d all spent the night on the couch binging a myriad of movies—what you did every Friday night; designated movie night. You’d ended up with your head in Osamu’s lap and your legs thrown across Atsumu’s just like you always did (except for when you would occasionally switch whose lap was where).

You’d fallen asleep on the couch in that position at some point and woken up in the morning in Osamu’s bed. Like usual.

You’d left earlier than usual that day, before Atsumu even woke up. It wasn’t hard to do, he had a bad habit of sleeping in way too late. But you’d left and been back to your own house before 10am.

Your sister’s first baby had grown out of his screaming in the middle of the night phase, but not his screaming throughout the day phase quite yet. Her baby girl had taken up the mantle of screaming through the night, however.

Walking into your house that morning, you’d been expecting to have to fight to keep your headache at bay. But it was as if some power out there had blessed you because when you walked in, it was eerily quiet.

“Hey! You’re home.” Your sister’s voice carried from behind you. You turned and she leaned against the entrance to the kitchen with a smile. “Just you and me today, they went to the park. Thought you might miss the quiet day. Was expectin’ you to be at the Miya’s house.” She set the rag she’d been holding down on the counter and turned her attention fully to you.

“I-“ you cleared your throat and felt your cheeks start to warm up, “I got a date tonight. Wanted to get ready.”

You watched her face light up and you swore she was about to start jumping up and down and clapping. “Did the Miya boy finally ask you out!” She shouted and your jaw dropped in shock and confusion. “You know, Osamu?”

You shook your head clearly. “No. No, no, no.” You groaned and ran your hand over your face. “I told you,” you whined, “we’re just friends.”

Apparently everyone was rooting for Osamu and you to date. You'd been asked by your sister and her husband about him on multiple occasions, even some of the Miya family had asked about the two of you. Neither of you saw that happening.

Sure you’d kissed a few times since you'd shared your first kiss, but purely for practicing purposes. When he’d wanted to kiss a different girl for the first time he’d come to you first and practiced. You’d made fun of him for how sloppy the kiss had been and he’d gone and kissed his girl the next day. Hell, they’d even lasted a full week before he said that he just didn’t think it was going to end up working.

You clarified for your dreamy-eyed sister. “Someone from the boys’ soccer team asked me out.”

“Oh.” Her face dropped for a split second before it perked back up. “Well,” she dragged the word before slowly approaching you, “will you let me help you get ready?”

You stared at her warily for a second before sighing and reluctantly nodding.

She really did clap her hands together, then, a small squeal of excitement leaving her lips as she dragged you off to her room. “You don’t have the right clothes.”

You let her play dress up with you for the day, she’d left your hair mostly natural but had made sure that your face would be left completely unobscured. “Can’t have you trying to hide behind your hair when you get flustered.” She’d joked with you.

When. Not if.

You’d rolled your eyes in irritation which got you a lecture about how you couldn’t do that on the date because not only would he find it rude, but it had a possibility of ruining your makeup. You’d complained up and down the wall when she’d slipped one of her old dresses on you.

Your complaints stopped when you saw yourself in the mirror.

The dress fell down to your knees and accentuated all the right places on your body. Flattering your body type perfectly. “It never fit me quite right.” Your sister had laughed and you’d surprised her with a hug.

The date itself had gone amazing. Eichi had shown up with flowers and had taken you to a local ice cream shop. You spent hours of the afternoon/evening talking and laughing. You’d never before spent that much uninterrupted time with anyone outside of the twins. It was refreshing. An entire change of pace.

Eichi had been funny and playful but never quite in the overwhelming way that Atsumu was. He listened well too, always adding in his input the way that Osamu sometimes forgot to do. When the sun had officially set, he’d walked you back to your house and had stopped at the gate to your yard.

“I had an amazing time with you.” He whispered, his hand still intertwined from your walk here. Your cheeks were heated and you were thankful for the dimly lit gateway you stood in, hiding all possible evidence of it.

“I would really like to do it again.” He spoke before you had the chance to respond to the first comment. You were so in awe that you just nodded dumbly, the same dopey smile from the day before painted on your face again.

“I would also,” he whispered, stepping slightly closer, “really like to kiss you.”

“Okay.” You whispered back quickly, not giving yourself time to second guess the decision. You barely caught the smile on his lips before he leaned in.

He was the only person you’d kissed besides Osamu and it was different. Less awkward and more like he knew what he was doing. His hand cupped the back of your neck to hold you in place. There was no crashing of noses as he tilted his head and pressed his lips softly to yours. It was pleasant and stole your breath and when he pulled back you accidentally let your lips follow his slightly.

He let out a light laugh at your action and disconnected your hands with a smaller kiss to the back of your hand. “I’ll see you on Monday?” He asked as he took a step back.

“Ye-“ you cleared your throat when your voice came out higher pitched than you’d meant it to, “yeah, on Monday.” He’d watched you enter the gate to your house and start to walk the path to your door before he turned and left.

You never made it to your front door.

You’d let out a happy squeal and quickly kicked your uncomfortable shoes off your feet, picked them up and turned to sprint down to the Miya house.

You let yourself in quickly with your own key and greeted their grandma kindly before pushing into the twins’ room without announcing yourself.

“Put a shirt on ‘Tsumi.” You said immediately and laughed as Atsumu screeched like a girl and tried to hide his body with his shirt because he was only in boxers.

“Wha’ happened ta knockin’!?” He shouted, quickly grabbing the pair of sweats right next to him and pulling them on. You paid him no mind as you flopped down onto Osamu’s bed and laid your head in his lap, smiling giddily up at him.

“Ya look nice.” Osamu took a look at your dress and you grinned as you smoothed down the skirt a little bit so he could have a better look at it. “Wha’s the occasion?”

You saw Atsumu’s face appear in your field of vision next to Osamu’s and you couldn’t stop your smiling. “My date.” You let out a giddy laugh.

Osamu hummed in recognition, a fond smile finding its way onto his lips. Atsumu, on the other hand, screwed his face up in distaste and opened his mouth to speak. You quickly cut him off.

“Eichi was so nice.” You swooned. “He brought flowers and kissed me goodnight and wants to do it again!” You let out a little squeal - you could and would hate yourself for the action later - and kicked your feet in the air a little bit.

“Hey! Watch it!” Atsumu chided, dodging one of your feet as he dropped out of your line of sight. “I still don’t like him.” He complained and you rolled your eyes.

“No one asked ya.” You said, propping yourself up on an elbow so you could glare at him properly. “Bet he doesn’t like ya either.” You chipped and were easily greeted with backup.

“No one likes ‘Tsumu.” Osamu snorted a laugh from behind you and your smile grew back on your face.

“Like I care.” Atsumu huffed and rolled his eyes again. “Whatever, jus’ don’t come crying ta me when he’s exactly what I told ya.”

“I won’t.” You fell back on Osamu’s lap, smiling as he played absentmindedly with a piece of your hair, continuing his conversation from before you dropped in.

You were content to only half listen to any conversation that night, still mentally swooning over the boy who wanted to take you out again.

You didn’t have to come crying to Atsumu about Eichi at all.

Eichi had asked you to be his girlfriend after just two more dates and you’d made it through the rest of the trimester. Then, you’d made it through the first trimester of high school. And then, for the first time in your life, you shared your summer with more than just the twins.

Growing up with the Miya twins meant that they monopolized most of your time, but now, with Eichi around, you made a point to split your time as much as possible.

Atsumu tried to be around a lot more when you were there now. Talking about how you ‘were never around’ and how you ‘owed him this’ and ‘owed him that’. He was exhausting, like always, but you missed it.

And when Osamu and you would team up to bully Atsumu together, it brought back the familiar fluttering of hearing Osamu’s laugh when Atsumu gave that stupid look of jaw-dropped, mock betrayal towards you both.

You took time with the twins wherever you could get it and it often ended with you all doing crazy things. Which is how, of course, you ended up here, basically straddling Atsumu as you swatted at his hands trying to come up and wipe his face.

“Stop that!” You swatted his hand yet again as it came up.

“It kinda burns.” He whined. “And it smells.” You rolled your eyes and smacked his hand… again. “Meanie.” He bit out, sticking his tongue out at you.

“Ya want bleach in yer eyes, loudmouth?” He rolled his eyes at you as a response and grumbled under his breath. “Didn’t think so. Now keep yer hands away from yer face.” You were standing above his sitting form, his head leaned back into the bathroom sink.

“Be more like Miysam.” It was a tease. You glancing over at the other twin who was sitting quietly, his eyes closed as he relaxed. The bleach in Osamu’s hair was washed out now and he was just waiting for the haphazardly applied grey hair dye to set in.

“He’s sleepin’!” Atsumu exclaimed and you giggled as, almost exactly on cue, Osamu let out a soft snore.

“Well, it is three in the mornin’.” You laughed and he glared up at you as you impatiently checked the color on his hair.

“See! Ya gotta be as impatient as I am!” His exclamation came softer this time at the recognition of how late it was. He reached up to scratch his head and you smacked his hand again. “I’m gon’ kill ya, I swear.” You rolled your eyes at him but smiled nonetheless. “Can’ we jus’ say screw it? Le’s wash it!”

You laughed and watched as he beamed up at you. “What if it isn’t the right color?” You warned and he groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Who cares. S’long as 'Samu and I’ve got the diff’rent colors tha’s wha’ matters." He paused for a breath before adding on to his sentiment. "And that ya had fun.”

You laughed and reached over him to turn on the faucet. “O’ course I had fun.” You leaned back again and looked down at his face with a smile. “Don’t blame me if ya hair looks like piss, ‘Tsumi.” He shrugged and you shook your head with another giggle.

Your fingers easily pushed into his hair, dragging it under the water and slowly working out all of the drying bleach. You snuck a few glances down at him and smiled as you noticed him staring at you, watching you work.

His cheeks were tinged pink from his continued position of not having his head tilted the right way and his lips fell into a relieved smile. You continued in silence as he watched you, working conditioner into his hair to ease the damage the bleach had been causing it.

You removed yourself from your place above him and he whined as he went to sit up. “Where ya goin’?”

You laughed as you pushed him back down. “Stay. I’m gonna wash out ‘Samu’s hair and then I’ll come wash out ya conditioner.”

Atsumu rolled his eyes dramatically as you came to stand next to Osamu who was leaning against his own sink, still softly snoring. That boy could sleep like the dead, it was surprising that he wasn’t the one that was always late.

“Stupid ‘Samu can wash out his own.” Atsumu grumbled as you began to run your fingers through his brother’s hair under the now running water.

“He’s sleeping?” You laughed and winced as you saw the grey starting to lightly stain your hands. “And so can you.” You pointed playfully with a lightly stained finger.

“But, ya give little massages with it.” He smiled and you glared lightly.

“Hush or ya can wash ya own hair.” A couple more soft grumbles came from Atsumu as you washed Osamu’s hair until the water ran clear. When you shut the water off, you came back to Atsumu’s chair and resumed your previous position.

“Alright ya big baby.” Atsumu smiled up at you but made no snide remarks as you began to massage the conditioner from his hair. You were right and both of your impatience had left him with a shade you hadn’t been going for.

You’d winced. At least it wasn’t splotchy.

“M’sorry.” You whispered as he finally stood up to look at it.

“Nah.” He’d laughed with you about it. “I like it. Ya did good.” He laughed and pulled you into a quick side hug.

“Help me get him ta bed?” You asked, trying to get Osamu out of the chair that he was sleeping in still. “Gosh, what s’he eat?”

You groaned and Atsumu laughed as he easily threw one of Osamu’s arms over his own shoulders and hauled him into an almost standing position. You definitely were not pulling your weight on getting Osamu back to his bed but Atsumu didn’t complain a bit about it.

“M'not really tired.” Atsumu whispered from his bed after you’d both settled down and turned off the lights.

“Same.” Was your whispered reply.

You stared at the bottom of his bunk, trying to find the words to ask if you could talk to him until you slept but he beat you to it. “Come up here and talk t'me?”

Instead of responding, you crawled out of Osamu’s bed and up to Atsumu’s quickly. You’d talked in hushed whispers and giggles until you’d both fallen asleep that night.

The next morning, you were late to your breakfast date with Eichi and it was the first time you had a serious fight.

He’d been mad about the grey hair dye that was staining your fingers as you were profusely apologizing for missing your date. You’d told him about dying the boys’ hair and it was the first time you fought about your relationship with the Miya twins.

The first time, but definitely not the last time.

Eichi and you lasted barely a month into the second trimester of your first year of high school. The Miya twins’ upcoming birthday happened to be the final straw for your relationship.

Growing up with the Miya twins, you learned one thing when it came to their birthday:

You had to make time to hang out with each of them individually, as well as together.

You could attempt to skip the individual part but you just knew the cries you would get, you’d give in instantly to the complaints. The Miya twins’ birthday was an all day event for the three of you. Had been for the past nine years and there was no way you’d break the streak on their sixteenth birthday.

Eichi had been pissed when you told him about the day you’d planned on missing school and about what your plans were.

You’d been hanging out with his teammates just outside his clubroom after practice on a Friday, drinking hot drinks to make up for the chilly air of the late September afternoon.

“No.” He’d said it with finality, like he had a say in the matter. Like he had the only say in the matter. “No, you’re not skipping school to hang out with them.”

You’d scoffed and widened your eyes to give him an incredulous look. “You’re joking.” His face stayed serious and you stood up straighter. "You're not joking." You rolled your eyes, unable to keep the temper crawling up your spine in check.

“Their part o’ my life. Ya knew that gettin’ into this.” He rolled his eyes at your words and you gripped your cup a little tighter trying to calm yourself down. “Eichi,” your tone was warning, daring him, “I’m not skippin’ out on their birthdays. It’s a decade long tradition now.”

“I don’t need my girlfriend spending an entire day alone with those two idiots.” He’d started to raise his voice and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to hold your words back.

“You’re especially not skippin’ school to do it!” He’d drawn the attention of some teammates who were trying desperately to look like they weren’t trying to eavesdrop. They weren't fooling anyone. “I don’t fucking get it.”

“Don’t call them idiots.” You pressed the words out through clenched teeth, your voice coming out lower than it normally would have. There was a razor edge to them, a serrated blade that itched to carve into his skin.

“You,” he pointed an accusatory finger towards you, “call them idiots all the time, what’s the big deal.” You growled and went to retaliate when he cut you off. “They’re nothin’ but a pair of idiots. They’re rowdy and fight all the time, ya come back to me with bruises sometimes.”

You rolled your eyes, yeah bruises you got from soccer and from your own habit of tripping over every crack in the sidewalk, not your boys. Never your boys. They’d never lay a finger on you.

He continued, “especially fucking Atsumu," he spit the name out like venom, "who’s so fucking full of himself and is just as fucking well to be the trash you should ignore on the side of the road.”

And that was it, the final push for your anger.

“Keep his goddamn name outta yer mouth!” You shoved at his chest even if he didn’t move. “I don’t give a damn no more.” You growled and thought that your grip on your cup might send the boiling liquid pouring over your hand at any second. “Atsumu ain’t trash and don’t ya ever fucking call him that again.”

He’d scoffed in your face and clenched his jaw at your defensiveness over the boy. “I’m your fucking boyfriend. You don’t put that piece of arrogant, loudmouth trash over your boyfriend.”

“Watch. Your. Fucking. Mouth.” You were seething. You easily dodging his hand as he aimed to grab your arm. “I don’ ever wanna hear his name come out ya mouth again. I don’ ever wanna hear ya call him any o’ that again.” You glared and him and shook your head. It was Friday and you had places to be. “I’m leaving.” You turned and got only a few steps before he spoke again.

“Y/n.” You stopped your steps but didn’t look back. “You leave now and we’re done. You choose them over me.” You let out a short laugh. Not worth a response. You kept walking.

You made your way quietly to the volleyball gym where you knew that Osamu and Atsumu would be waiting for you, like they did every Friday afternoon. Like they did every movie night. Every time you all had plans.

All your anger boiled over the closer you got and you ended up throwing the hot drink into a wall, the contents exploding out in a satisfying way. You took a deep breath, trying to shop the shaking in your hands and-

“Woah, what’d that cup do to you?” Suna’s voice was first to greet your ears with a quiet laugh as he stood next to Osamu. Osamu’s face, instead, filled with concern and he quickly abandoned his conversation with Suna to find his spot next to you.

Before either of you got a chance to speak again, Atsumu was sticking his face in front of yours. “Why ya look like ya just got hit by a truck, a/n/n?”

Your dissipating anger returned full force. “Why you-“ you growled and shoved your hand into his face, watching as he stumbled from the force of the unexpected hit. He barely had time to groan and register what had happened when you went to lunge at him. “Shut ya face ya loudmouth!”

Osamu caught you in the air by your waist just before you made contact with Atsumu again and you paid no mind to the fact that you were pointlessly swinging your arms and legs in Atsumu’s direction.

“Listen meanie! I didn’t come for ya to be a brat ta me!” Atsumu stood straight again, holding his nose where your palm had made contact. He went to speak again but Osamu cut him off.

“I’ll let ‘er go.” He threatened, you had already stopped swinging but the threat still held because Atsumu shut his already opened mouth.

“Wan’ talk ‘bout it, y/n/n?” he looked down at you questioningly. You shook your head. “So, le’s go home and watch some movies.” He immediately dropped the subject and released you from his grasp. He turned you towards the gates of the school. “Le’s go get ya another hot drink, too.”

Atsumu stayed quiet but glared at you, to which you responded with a glare of your own. Osamu had to keep himself between the two of you the whole way to their house.

They did get you another hot drink and Atsumu paid for it, which put you in a better mood with him for the rest of the night. You resumed your place sitting between the two of them and like always, fell asleep on the couch with your head in Atsumu’s lap and your feet strewn across Osamu’s as some movie played in the background.

You stayed at their house the entire weekend and neither questioned why you didn’t leave periodically to go be with Eichi. At least, they didn’t wonder out loud, to you. You’d caught them once trying to discuss it when you had left for the shower but they’d dropped the conversation when you’d walked back in.

It was on Monday that it all caught up to you.

You’d been unfortunate enough to not have either of the twins in your class for high school. But fortunate in the fact that Eichi also was not in your class.

You’d gathered your food for lunch and did what you always did, leave your class and head towards class 1 to find Osamu for lunch. Passed by class 2 on your way to grab Atsumu and continued to walk quietly.

Quietly until you and Atsumu passed Eichi in the hallway.

“Yeah, I broke up with her cause she wouldn’t put out.” You saw Atsumu’s steps falter as you passed.

“’Tsumi.” You whispered lowly, pulling on his sleeve to get him the last few steps towards Osamu’s classroom. “Ignore it.” He looked down at you questioningly, realization crossing his features as he realized why you’d been down all weekend.

“Should’ve known that she was just a whore for the Miya twins.” The words made the blood in your veins freeze and you couldn't stop it as you felt Atsumu’s blazer leave your grasp.

“Wanna say that ‘gain for me.” Atsumu asked, unbuttoning his blazer as he turned and took a step away from you and towards your now ex-boyfriend. “Don’ think I heard ya right.”

He dropped his blazer to the ground, hands already shoving the sleeves of his shirt up. You snapped yourself out of your frozen state and went to take a step forward to pull him back, only to be stopped by a familiar arm

Osamu and Suna were on either side of you now. Suna already had his camera out and Osamu’s face was set in a serious look made of stone.

“I said,” Eichi laughed as he took a step away from his friends and towards the clearing hallway, “little y/n/n is just a whore for you and your brother.”

You’re pretty sure you heard the crack of Atsumu’s fist hitting Eichi’s face before you even saw it. Eichi’s smirk was wiped off in a single hit but that didn’t stop Atsumu from going for more.

“’Tsumi!” You cried out, trying to lunge for them but Osamu kept you back. “Miysam! Make him stop please.” You begged but Osamu shook his head.

“Pretty sure he deserves this.” You grimaced as Eichi landed a punch on Atsumu and hid your face into Osamu's chest. It wasn’t the first time that Atsumu had ended up in the principal’s office because of you, but it was the first time he’d done it with his only intention being to protect you.

AGE 16

Growing up with the Miya twins means that you grow a knack for competitiveness. A habit of pushing your limits to get better than your best.

You had a habit of pushing it too far.

Osamu and Atsumu always used each other to compete, catching up to the other, pulling ahead of the other was always enough. You had yourself, be better than the last time. So you had a habit of going too far. Of not knowing what your limit was and passing it.

Osamu lectured you constantly for it. For the bruises and sprains that he and Atsumu helped you care for on a regular basis. For the days that they’d find you passed out over study materials because your body had finally given out from overuse.

It was never really bad until high school, where it got infinitely worse than your middle school years. And when you’d left Eichi you suddenly had more time to throw yourself into improvement.

The last week of your first year of high school you went entirely too far. Even by all the standards you'd set before.

Your eyes were struggling to open properly at first, bright lights assaulting your vision before your coach came into view. Relief washed over his face as he saw you conscious. “Oh good, was worried about you there, l/n.”

You tried to sit up but were immediately stopped by a figure to your left.

It took a moment to register the figure of a nurse who lightly pressed her hands against your shoulders and guided you back down. “You shouldn’t try to get up just yet, you might throw up.” Her warning made you suddenly aware that the world was a little blurrier than you were used to - like you’d forgotten to put on glasses.

“Whappened?” Your words slurred and you scrunched your eyebrows in irritation at the poorly formed words.

“You just dropped.” Your coach supplied, ever-so-elegant with his words. “One second you were sprinting after the ball, like always, and the next you were tumbling to the ground. Nasty fall.”

“We’ve got you on some pain meds right now.” The nurse said softly as she helped prop up your bed slowly. “But it’ll hit you once they wear off.”

Pain meds. That accounted for the heavy feeling in your limbs and why your vision seemed to be a little hazy. As if sensing your next question, she spoke again.

“You have a fractured ankle. It’s a light fracture so you don’t need a cast unless you decide that you can’t stay off of it. That means crutches.” You winced at the thought but kept quiet as she kept talking. “You have some severe friction burns on your side as well from the fall.”

“I don’t even remember tripping.” You mumbled your hands rubbing over your face like the motion and feeling would bring more consciousness into your mind. “How hard did I hit my head when I went down to forget that?”

“You didn’t trip.” Your coach said then, worry still etched into his face as he laid his hand gently on your head. “You were unconscious before you went down.” You shook your head lightly trying to figure out if you’d heard him correctly.

“You did hit your head hard though, you have a light concussion. I’ll be talking to your school about excusing you from the rest of your final projects.” The nurse said again. “You shouldn’t be reading for the rest of this week, or looking at a screen.” She added when she caught you eyeing your phone on the table.

“It was exhaustion.” She clarified, giving you your unofficial diagnosis. “Your body gave out on you.”

“Oh.” You whispered lightly, now noticing the IV sticking out of your arm.

“When’s the last time you ate?” You were silent as the nurse questioned you. When was the last time? “The last time you had a full night of sleep?”

“I didn’t know who you wanted to call.” Your coach interjected as he saw your frustration building. “I know you’re close with the Miya twins and you said your sister was busy a lot but…” he trailed off and you sighed.

“Could I use my phone?” You asked quietly and then quickly added on as you saw the nurse go to deny your request. “Just to call someone and then I’ll put it away.” She hesitated but nodded before passing you your phone. You sighed as you dialed the familiar number.

He picked up quickly. “Hey.” You muttered and didn’t wait for him to finish his question that he had started. “I know I’m not there, I’m sorry. Could you come and pick me up?” You sighed at the response on the other side of the line.

“Listen I’m gonna tell ya and I need ya to not freak out. M’at the hospital.” You let him rattle worries to you before talking again.

“Just you, please, don’t bring your brother.” There was a pause before agreement. You rattled off your room number and then hit the end call button. You placed your phone off to the side table again, as promised.

The nurse was rattling off instructions to you of how to take care of yourself at home when he showed up. A familiar face popping around the corner as his tall frame followed. His hair was messy from running his fingers through it, a nervous habit.

“Hey.” He whispered as you ushered him in the room. His eyes skidded from the machines hooked up to you to the bandages across your arm and ankle before settling on your face where a bruise was forming.

“Wha’ happened?” He fell into the chair next to your bed as the nurse retold what was wrong with you before informing him of all the restrictions you have over the next few weeks. The nurse left after her speech and he looked back at you.

“M’sorry ‘Tsumi.” You whispered, looking away from him.

He sighed and brought your face to look back at him. You watched as his eyes took in the bruise on your face. They looked almost golden at the moment and you nearly scoffed, only a Miya could look good under the harsh light of hospital rooms.

“I guess I jus’ forgot.”

His fingers lightly grazed over the bruise, careful to not press too hard on the swollen skin, a softer touch than usually came from him.

“Ya forgot ta take care of yaself?” Atsumu’s voice was nearly a whine as he pulled you into a soft hug. “Stop doin’ that.”

His warmth surrounded you and you noted that he still sort of smelled like volleyball practice, the smell of sweat lingered as proof of how fast he’d dropped his responsibilities to come here for you.

“Why didn’t ya want ‘Samu ta come?” He asked as he slowly pulled back. He eased you into a sitting position, your legs dangling off the bed. The nurse had disconnected you from all the wires and the IV before leaving a wheelchair for you.

“Don’ know.” You mumbled, your shoulders sagging as he supported most of your weight, placing you into the wheelchair. You winced as the cold hospital air surrounded your bare arms and legs, a reminder that you were still wearing just your practice shorts and t-shirt. Atsumu waited for you to finish your thoughts as he draped your bags over his shoulders and began to push you out of the room.

“Miysam lectures me like a dad.” You grumbled and tried to stop the smile from appearing on your lips as he let out a loud laugh behind you. “S’not funny.” You protested, your cheeks heating up.

“Is too.” He laughed and his face popped into view as he leaned over to look down at you. “Nothin’ to be ‘mbarrassed ‘bout a/n/n.” He teased, smiling as your cheeks heated up even more.

“Stop teasin’ me.” You mumbled. “Shoulda called Suna.” You stuck your tongue out at him and he feigned hurt.

His jaw dropped open in mock betrayal, the same look that he gave when Osamu and you teamed up to tease him. The same look he had whenever Osamu’s laugh sent a warm feeling shooting through your chest and made your eyes light up - the same feeling that was happening right now, except it wasn’t caused by Osamu’s laugh because his laugh wasn’t present.

Just the dumb stricken face Atsumu was making.

“Suna woulda left ya t'rot.” Atsumu grumbled as you both reached the front door. He transferred you onto crutches, largely supporting your weight for you. Carrying one of your crutches for you, he hunched over to let you sling an arm around his neck so he could continue supporting you as you both left.

“Suna woulda left you t'rot.” You grimaced at the strain of the crutch. “He likes me more than ya.” Atsumu snorted but didn’t counter as you finished the short walk to the bus station in front of the hospital.

He might as well have carried you onto the bus with how much he was lifting you up the stairs. By the time you fell into the seat you were dizzy from the pain meds still buzzing in your system.

You barely registered the warmth of his body settling next to you in the seat. I felt the familiar light pull of his arm dragging you softly into his side when his voice met your ears again.

“Go ‘head.” He said softly and let a small laugh out when you went to ask what he meant. “I’ll wake ya when s’time to get off.” You nodded lightly and that permission was all you needed to fall into a light sleep with your head propped on his shoulder.

Here’s the thing, about growing up with the Miya twins. You learn a lot of things.

You learn that they bleed into every aspect of your life, that you’re never going to get rid of them. You learn that they feel more like home than your own house does. That their bickering brings smiles to your lips and that nothing makes you happier than making them frustrated and drawing laughs out of them by force.

You learn to read their expressions, when a slight change in the glint of their eyes gives away what they’re about to do next. Micro-expressions that you can only read because you watched them develop for years. You learn to observe and read the Miya twins like open books.

When you opened your eyes again you were standing outside the bus at the stop down the street from the Miya house. “Ya think ya could stand there for a second?” Atsumu was placing you gently on the ground, catering one side so that you didn’t press your weight onto your injured ankle.

You nodded drowsily and leaned onto the crutch he handed to you. He’d carried you off the bus but you were watching now as he struggled to secure both your and his bags onto his shoulders. He’d pulled off his hoodie now and knowing him, it was because it had pulled the wrong way against your bags one too many times and had irritated him.

You let a soft smile pull on your lips as you pictured him wrestling with the sweater and your bags. “What’ya smilin’ ‘bout there?”

You let out a soft giggle and shook your head. “Nothin’.”

“I think ya might still have some drugs in your system.” He teased and you felt your cheeks heat up again. The feeling of the warmth brought your attention to just how cold the rest of your body was and you let out a shiver. “Ya cold?”

You nodded but it didn’t matter, he was already working his hoodie onto your body, struggling with supporting you and not letting your crutches fall in the process.

“There ya go.” He smiled at you as your head popped through the top of the sweater. You felt your cheeks flare up more as you were engulfed in warmth. His jacket was huge on you and the sleeves consumed your arms, the bottom falling to the ends of your shorts.

“Thanks.” You mumbled and looked away, trying to calm your cheeks and failing because of the way he was looking at you.

Before you spoke again he interrupted you. “Alright, up we go.”

You made a noise of confusion as he quickly bent down and wrapped an arm around the back of your knees. His other arm wrapped around your waist and he easily lifted you up, carrying you bridal style. Your eyes widened and you gripped your crutches to your chest tightly as you let out a small squeak at the sudden movement.

“Just like a princess.” Atsumu teased as he started walking and the heat of your cheeks burned its way to the tips of your ears.

“‘Tsumiiiii.” You whined. “Stop teasin’ me.” You buried your face into his neck and found yourself entirely enveloped by him as you groaned in embarrassment.

“Stop gettin’ flustered so easily then.” He laughed and the heat spread down your neck. His fingers unintentionally tightened at your side and you hissed from the contact with the wound that lay there. His laughing immediately stopped, his tone coming out serious. “Fuck, m’sorry.”

“S’okay.” You mumbled sleepily into his neck, starting to relax as you felt him turn towards the path up to his house. “I know yer just dumb.” You smiled as you heard him let out a playful scoff.

“Meanie.” His voice was playful as he carefully pulled open the front door of his house and navigated towards his room. The room was empty when he walked in and he placed you carefully onto Osamu’s bed.

“Alright princess.” He laughed and detangled himself from you before dropping your bags less ceremoniously next to the bed. “Relax here, I’ll go get ya a hot drink and some food.”

You smiled at him, your cheeks flushing as he brushed a piece of your hair back with a soft smile. You tried to pull off his jacket but he quickly stopped you.

“Nah, keep it, looks better on y’a.” He joked and you watched him leave as you relaxed into Osamu’s bed.

Growing up with the Miya twins makes you learn how to ignore things. To tune them out.

Like the way that Osamu hums along to the conversation to show he’s listening even though it grinds on your nerves because you think he’s not. Or how Atsumu runs his loud mouth any chance he gets because he’s got opinions on everything and no he doesn’t care if you don’t wanna hear them. Teaches you to tune out their constant bickering to the point where you don’t even realize it’s been happening until the first punch is thrown.

It even teaches you how to ignore things that have been right in front of your face the whole time. Like the warm feeling that spread in your chest every time Atsumu gave you that stupid look of his while Osamu’s laugh rang in your ear. Or the way that the you felt more comfortable in this room than any other in your life.

There’s a word; succiduous. It means ready to fall or falling. That was a great way to describe it probably.

You curled into yourself on Osamu’s bed, Atsumu’s jacket was still enveloping you in all things him, pressing warmth through your veins and your chest. Surrounding you in what you knew to be Atsumu’s scent, distinctly different than Osamu’s and overwhelming to your senses even though you were on the latter’s bed.

Because growing up with the Miya twins meant you spent your whole life falling without realizing it.

You took a deep breath in, nuzzling your face into the jacket in your half awake, probably still slightly high, state and you felt an involuntary smile pull at your lips. It smelt good, even though the smell of sweat lingered and he’d probably been wearing it for more than just today since he’d washed it… it smelled like Atsumu and it made you smile.

The sound of the Osamu coming into the room dragged your attention back to the real world where you realized what you’d just been doing. Your eyes widened in shock as realization crashed over you.

You looked up at Osamu slowly with those same widened and shocked eyes. “Miysam.” You whispered, your voice shaking.

“‘Tsumu told me.” He muttered, sitting down next to you softly. “I’m not gonna lecture ya just yet don’t worry.”

“No, Miysam.” You whispered again and he looked down at you concerned. “I think I fucked up.”

You weren’t looking at him anymore, instead staring out the door where Atsumu would reappear at some point with what he had promised you.

You’d never realized it until you were ready to fall.

“I think I like ‘Tsumi.” You breathed out, the feeling of a weight lifting off of you at the admission.

“Yeah,” Osamu muttered with a smirk, “I know.” He shifted his smirk into a soft smile as he looked down at you, loopy and trying to process. “Took you long enough to notice.”

a/n this piece will forever be special in my heart <3

TAGLIST - OPEN @faumpje @all-in-the-fandoms @pearl-blue-musings @chaes-tea

#𓇻 Liberosis #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #osamu miya x reader #miya x reader #miya atsumu x reader #miya osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #atsumu fanfiction #osamu fanfiction #miya atsumu fanfiction #miya osamu fanfiction #atsumu miya fanfiction #osamu miya fanfiction

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frances-baby-houseman · 3 days

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Dear Prudence,

Three years ago, my best friend and I had a falling out. When she asked for my opinion on her new fiancé and their relationship, I expressed some concern as gently as I could. I said it was concerning to me that they had only known each other for three months, that I was her best friend and had never met him (he had no interest in meeting her friends), and that the only times she had spoken to me about him before announcing the engagement were to talk through fights they had where he took rather nasty stances against totally normal things (her having any other men’s phone numbers saved in her phone, etc). She told me that I had never supported any of her relationships, this one was much better than previous ones, and I obviously didn’t actually care for her. I told her that wasn’t true and it was actually that I loved her so much that I was willing to tell her things I could see that she didn’t want to hear.

About a week after that fight, she called me in the middle of the night from the bathroom of a party, and told me that she’s concerned about how often she’s been using different drugs since starting the relationship (I wasn’t aware of this; previously she had occasionally smoked pot and that was it). I found out where she was, picked her up and brought her back to my house. In the morning, she was already gone when I woke up. I tried to call or text her every day for two weeks after that, leaving her messages that I loved her and was there for her and ready to help her when she wanted it. She never answered or acknowledged anything. She also disappeared off all social media. I went to her apartment at the end of the two weeks and there was a “for rent” sign in the window with all her belongings cleared out. She had said she and her fiancé had found a new place and were going to be moving in together, but I didn’t know where it was.

To complicate things, this was about one month before my wedding, where she was a bridesmaid. She dropped out of all wedding-related conversations as well and didn’t come to the bridal shower. The night before the wedding, she called and asked if it would be okay for her to come still. I told her of course! I didn’t push her to talk about anything she didn’t want to and just made sure to deliver the message that I love and support her while she was there. Immediately after the ceremony, my husband and I were outside taking some photos and heard shouting from the front entrance of the hotel.

It was her fiancé, who was telling her that they needed to leave. She waved goodbye and got in the car. I smiled and lied to anyone that asked about her during the reception and said she had gotten a terrible migraine and unfortunately was home in bed, then cried in the shower at the end of the night, knowing that she was truly gone from my life after calling each other sisters for years. I sent her one more text saying I would always be there if she ever needed anything and to please reach out when she was ready to. I never heard anything.

Last week, my mother sent me a picture of the police blotter in the newspaper for her town (about two hours away from where I live), and asked if that was my friend in the mugshot picture. It was listed along with her first name and the previous fiancé’s last name. She had gotten arrested for drunk driving with her 2-year-old son in the car. My heart broke all over again. Without hearing from her/about her, I’d been able to convince myself she had left the bad relationship, gone back to complete that master’s degree program she wanted to, and was happy and healthy. This tells a different story. I know I did what I could for her, and she didn’t want to hear what I was saying or accept my help, but I feel so guilty. How do I get past this?

—Friend Break-Up

Dear Break-Up,

Do you have time this week to just sit down and cry about your friend? Seriously, put it on the calendar. Dedicate an hour to thinking about how much you miss her, how much you hate that she’s suffering, and how you wish things could be different for you two. Really mourn the friendship you could have had if she’d made different choices. Think about how much it broke your heart for her to leave your wedding. Worry about her and her 2-year-old.

You and I both know that guilt doesn’t make sense here. You were patient and accommodating and did all you could for her. And maybe feeling guilty is keeping you from experiencing the more appropriate feeling for this situation: Grief. If you give yourself a chance to experience that—not just in this one-hour appointment with yourself, but over weeks and months—might take your focus away from wondering what you could have done that would have saved her. The answer to that is, of course, nothing.

for @formerly-ujb

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writingsfromhome · 24 days

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Dos and Dont’s Epilogue

Part 1 / 2/3/4

A/N: for those of you still needing more closure with this story this is for you

——————————————

6 months later:

My apartment was small but it was mine and I got to share it with one of my childhood best friends I’d reconnected with after moving back to the states last year.

Today the sun was setting on the beautiful November day. I had ordered in sushi and was enjoying a glass of wine, waiting for Deanna to get back home and tell me about her date.

These quiet evenings to myself always got me contemplative. Tonight was no different—I get to thinking about my day on set and how tomorrow was going to look.

After coming back from London and submitting my video proposal last spring, I had been rejected to nobody’s surprise. But that hadn’t stopped Harry from intervening and getting me a spot on set. It became a joke that I was a ghost intern there because really all I got to do was shadow people on set and help out where I could. And it had left me hungry for more.

I started building a portfolio and networking like crazy to get on more sets. So far I’d worked on three, once as a general assistant and twice as an arts assistant. I felt myself moving in the right direction I wanted to and it was thrilling.

I had Harry to thank for that really. And just like always, thinking about him sent a pang of achey regret through me.

I’m not sure what happened between us; we kept in touch loosely after I got back to the States. Mostly we talked about my future work and getting on set but after he actually got me on set and I got busy, our conversations fizzled out.

When I landed my second gig and had to maneuver my old job with Oretta she had ultimately let me go. I’d been bitter about failing something then but now I saw it as the kindness that it was—she had let me go and I had the room to pursue this new career.

It wasn’t easy though. The feeling of failure had driven me into the arms of a depressive episode that had taken me back home to Burbank. And when headlines were made of Harry’s new dates and women of the week, I’d taken it as a sign. We shouldn’t be in each other’s lives.

But I missed him every time I thought about him. And I always hated myself a little for not being brave enough to do anything about it, for pushing him away, and for liking him in the first place.

Clearly I was a very health person.

There was a knock on the door and I knew it had to be Deanna.

She distracts me with stories about her date and how well they hit it off. Apparently he kissed her goodnight right downstairs while I’d been drowning in misery on our living room couch.

The next morning, my phone rings at the ass crack of dawn. I expect it’s someone on set and end up being right. So with a few hours of sleep and a slight hangover from last night’s wine, I pick up a large coffee and get to work.

Last night’s thoughts bleed into my drive to work. It was when I was on set especially that I wanted to message Harry. I wanted to update him about all the cool things I was working on and hear what he thought. It was stupid but I wanted him to be proud of me too.

I wonder sometimes if I should have said something in London, been the bold one and taken a leap.

But I couldn’t have.

Harry was a damn rockstar and I was still figuring out my life. I can’t imagine it could have worked. So was it just the maybe, the what-if of us that kept looping in my mind? Or did what I feel for him mean something real, real enough not to shake so quickly.

A knock on my window scares me. It’s another one of the set assistants—Damien, waving at me. I guess I’ve just been parked staring into space. Oops.

“You need a coffee,” he tells me when I join him.

“Can you believe I’ve already had one?”

“I can probably find you a line of coke somewhere on set if you need something stronger?”

“Damien,” I pretend to be scandalized. But after working with these people over the last few years it was a pretty normal sight to see. “Ease into it first.”

He laughs, “I’m joking. I know you’re not…”

“I know,” it gets a bit awkward as it usually did with Damien and I when we started joking. “I’m joking too.”

His face flushes and I welcome someone calling me over to leave the awkward.

The day passes in a blur, the art director had a last minute change sending me to a local antique store trying to source props which was part of the job I enjoyed. With my headphones in I was in a world of structured creativity.

While I look through gold frames one of Harry’s songs comes on and I skip it automatically. I wasn’t quite ready to listen to his addictive voice croon about lovers of his past.

Not that I hadn’t tried going on dates of my own. But the thought of what-if kept me committing to anyone. If I thought about it for long enough it was actually annoying—how he somehow managed to still block my romantic life.

I’m invited for drinks after we’re done shooting for the day. Even though it’s pretty late I decide to say yes. Lately I’d spent my evenings when Deanna’s out just drinking by myself and being miserable. May as well drink with coworkers.

And I actually missed having regular coworkers, like I used to have Winnie. Shit talking about work to destress and drink was one of the highlights of making friends at work.

I have more to drink than I intended, and a small voice in my brain tells me that the amount of alcohol I’d been having recently might be a sign I’m losing it a little. But I order one last drink to shut it up.

At one point I start talking about horoscopes with someone in the bathroom and she ends up showing me how to use the lipstick I complimented them on to overline my lips, and I somewhat remember signing someone’s napkin and telling them to keep it for a few years and what it would be worth.

I also text Deanna an assortment of things and try to call my sister for a pressing matter that I can’t remember when it goes to voicemail. I end up babbling about drinking too much and needing to cut back.

I don’t know what time it is by the time I’ve ridden my high but I want to go home. I huddle by the entrance trying to remember if I came with a jacket tonight or not.

“You’re not driving home tonight are you?” Damien pops up beside me. We’d chatted throughout the night but I’d avoided any awkwardness by constantly inviting other people into the conversation. But right now he has me cornered.

“I’m a very responsible adult Damien,” I slur. “I am getting a taxi.”

“I can drive you home?” He offers.

“You were drinking too mister.”

“No,” he touches the tip of his nose. “I just had a beer and switched to soda afterwards.”

“That’s cheating,” I touch his nose and he laughs. I laugh too.

“We were invited out to drink,” he shrugs. His face flushes. “They didn’t specify what.”

“Cheater,” I tease. “D’you have a car?”

“I could drive yours home? And take an uber home from yours. We don’t live too far away.��

“No way!” I clutch my purse to me. “Nobody drives my car.”

“I didn’t realize you were so possessive.”

“It’s my car!” I let him know.

“But it’s parked on the street. You can’t leave it here weirdo.”

He had a point. Damnit.

“Fine,” I hand him my purse. He opens it tentatively and pulls the keys out.

“I just need these,” he hands my purse back.

“I need those back,” I remind him.

“I know,” he laughs, his hand coming down on my shoulder to lead me out. It sends a shiver down my spine. “I’m parking it in your garage and handing them right back.”

“Good.” I nod.

I pick the music until he tells me I shouldn’t go into singing and he switches the radio to a classical station. I pretend to snore.

“At least it might sober you up.” He pats my leg before snatching his hand off when he realizes he’d touched my bare thigh.

“I don’t feel so good.”

“I know, how much did you drink tonight y/n?”

“No I really don’t feel good.” I complain.

“Shit,” he mutters. “Just hold on.”

I do, I grip my door handle and will myself not to throw up in my car. I was at least lucid enough to know I would hate myself for having to clean it up tomorrow.

He pulls into a Trader Joe’s and I launch myself out in time to throw up on the pavement.

“Are you o-“

“Stop!” I splay my hand out behind me. This was embarrassing enough I didn’t need him to see me actually be sick. “Don’t come closer just…”

“I’ll get you some water.” He calls out and walks away.

How pathetic, I think. How pathetic was I.

Suddenly I want to cry and be left alone. I don’t want Damien driving me home, I don’t want to be drunk, and I don’t want to be here in the middle of nowhere.

When Damien gets back I’m sitting on the curb of a garden bed at the edge of a parking lot. He hands me the water and some electrolytes and gives me space which I’m grateful for. He does linger halfway in the driver’s seat and my anxiety builds until I get up and head back to the car.

“Someone kept calling you,” Damien mentions when I open my door. “I picked up after the third call. I didn’t want to bother you out there.”

“Oh, was it my roommate? Deanna?”

“No,” he scratches the back of his neck. I stare at him, waiting for him to sit back in the car and take me home. I wasn’t having fun anymore.

“Okay…?” I grab my phone from the centre console so I can check myself.

“Someone named Harry? He sounded worried?”

I look up at Damien, wondering if it was a joke even though I know it’s not. He doesn’t even know Harry. His face reflects back an awkward realization.

“Oh.” I can’t get out anything more. I could be decent and tell him that wasn’t my boyfriend—it wasn’t until this moment that I realized Damien was looking at me as more than just a casual friend. And a part of me wonders if that’s the only reason he was helping me out tonight. Then I banish the thought—that was rude. “Thanks for…letting me know.”

“I guess you don’t live with him if your roommate’s name is Deanna,” he tries to joke as he finally gets into the car.

“No that would be hard,” I reply. “He doesn’t live in the states.”

“Long distance,” he nods. I don’t reply and the car goes deathly silent as he drives me the rest of the way home.

I check my phone in the silence, Harry’s texted me. Before he called it seems:

Hey is everything alright?

Y/N I want to call you, you didn’t sound too good in your vm

I’m calling you

Shit! Did I call him first?

My face heats up with a stabbing sensation and I try to blink away the headache that was forming.

I check my call logs and sure enough after calling Deanna I’d called Harry. Why had I called him? I don’t even remember what I said in my voice message.

I groan.

“Is everything ok?” Damien asks.

“No I feel like shit-“

“Do you need me to stop again-“

“No.” I wave his concern away. “I just need to get home.”

I feel bad for him. I didn’t think I was leading him on in any way and yet he had driven me home because he liked me? I decide I’d call him his Uber myself to make it even. To feel like I didn’t owe him something.

When I finally drudge up my stairs to my bedroom I can barely be bothered to remove my clothes or take off my makeup. But my brain is wired thinking about Harry, how he called me.

I must still be somewhat drunk because as I lay horizontally in bed with half of my clothes on the floor I pick up the phone and call him.

H’s POV:

“Hi,” her voice is small and tired. My heart squeezes just hearing it.

“Y/n, you’re alright.”

“Yeah sorry, I think I mis-called you instead of my sister. Your names are beside each other.”

“So you were spilling your guts to your sister then?” I smile.

“Spilling my guts?” I can hear the strain in her voice.

I let her worry for a second longer, “No I’m joking.”

“Oh my god,” she sighs. “What did I say? Please tell me it was nothing embarrassing? It had to be bad if you called me right?”

“It wasn’t bad.” It wasn’t. But she sounded really drunk for a Wednesday night and she was blabbering about drinking too much these days, and needing to stop. It made more sense now that I knew it was for her sister. “But you sounded very drunk. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Sort of. I just wanted an excuse to call her and life had given me a pretty one.

It was stupid that I needed an excuse to call y/n after everything we went through. But truth was I had tried to get on with my life after we drifted away. And I think I did a decent job. I made the missing part shaped like y/n smaller and smaller until it didn’t bother me as much she wasn’t around. That we didn’t talk.

It was weird because she was a constant for a year—whether I liked it or not we had to be around each other all the time while she worked for me. Right up to the end even as things soured, as I wore regret like a second skin and forced myself to continue being the dick that she came to know me as.

And then she left and it felt like loosening my tie; breathing a little easier because I wasn’t always so hyperaware of her in the same room or next room over, about how she looked that day or the way she smelled, the joke she made or how angry she was with me.

Yet it didn’t help that she lingered everywhere.

But then I got to have her. All of her for a few weeks and letting her go after that felt more akin to torture than living with the regret for months while she worked for me. It was worse because I had her and I had to let her go.

I thought I knew what falling felt like, what it felt like to love somebody in all their flaws and be seen in return. But then I met y/n, fell for y/n, and everything changed.

“I’m okay,” she says softly. “I’m home in bed now.”

“Good,” I want to ask her about him. The bloke that answered the phone.

“Where are you?” She asks suddenly. “Isn’t it very early there?”

“Nearly half past 6,” I say looking at my watch. “And I’m at the gym.”

“That’s early,” she comments.

“I’m a morning gym person now.”

“Watch out world,” she says. It’s sleepy and makes me think of her curled into me on the sofa as our voices dim into sleep. Then nudging her to stay over and falling asleep in bed with me. So many hours of movies gone unwatched because we were too busy just being in each other’s presence.

The thing was, I had to let her go; you can’t cage a bright and vibrant woman like her. But it hurt doing that.

It sucked being selfless.

“You sound tired,” I say even though I want her on the line. Even if it’s to hear the sound of her breathing. “You should go to bed.”

“Sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

My breath catches in my throat. I wanted to worry about her, to be close to her enough to worry. And the want of it feels like being punched in the gut.

“You there?” She asks.

“Yeah. Yep, sorry.” I clear my throat. “I’m still here. And it’s fine. I know what can happen when you get drunk, I’m glad you left me the voicemail.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” I miss you. I miss you so often I worry I’ll be stuck with the loss of you forever. And I care so much about you that I can’t risk ruining your life by having you.

“At least I didn’t have to go to the hospital this time.” She jokes. Her speech grows slower as I’m sure sleep pulls her in.

“No. Seemed like you would’ve had help though.” I comment. Fuck. I couldn’t resist.

“If I knew any better Mr. Styles,” she says. “I’d think that sounds like jealousy.”

She’s teasing me, I can hear it in her voice. But my heart pounds as she calls me out.

“Goodnight y/n,” I say cowardly.

“Goodnight Harry,” she replies. I wait for her to hang up first.

That morning, I have an incredibly productive gym session.

Your POV:

I remember last night in bits and pieces and I’m mostly embarrassed but I can’t stop hearing Harry’s voice in my head. The way he sounded when he said he was glad I left him the voicemail. How he sounded almost jealous at the idea that whoever picked up the phone could be more than a friend. I feel sucked right back to half a year ago when I couldn’t get him out of my mind.

The one thing I did know though, I had to really cut back on the drinking.

I go into work with a bag of doughnuts and hope nobody remembers last night in detail. I make sure to thank Damien and he’s as awkward as ever.

My thoughts are replaced by business and set instructions as the day goes on and I’m grateful for that.

At home I dissect the phone call with Deanna and when I’ve had enough I try to distract myself by asking about her life.

In a way talking to Harry again was like taking an elephant-sized step backwards—it felt like I was in the same headspace of wondering about him and yearning for him all over again. I found myself looking him up, checking to find new information on his life. Even when I could just text him and get the answers straight from him.

A couple weeks later as I park my car in my garage and make my way up to my apartment I get a call. It’s him.

“Hi? Harry?” I answer.

“There she is!” He says loudly into the phone. I have to pull it from my ear.

“Jeez you’re loud,” I comment.

“I need you to be louder,” he laughs. And I realize why he’s called. I check the time, it must be near midnight in the UK.

“Are you drunk dialling me?” My face stretches into a smile and it feels like a betrayal. Why did this man affect me so easily.

“I thought that’s what we did nowadays! Call each other drunk!”

“That was once,” I enter my apartment and put away my things while we talk.

“You’ve unlocked the garden door,” he continues. “And now I have stepped through. I am calling you.”

“He rhymes even when he’s drunk!”

“I write music!”

“I know,” I laugh. “Good music.”

“D’you listen to me?” He asks. “I never asked you that.”

“Mmm not really my taste,” I tease.

“S’cuse me?!” He sounds offended. “I have heard your taste and my music is for your palate.”

“No I don’t think so,” I was having fun.

“Y/n.” He says seriously. “I have heard you listening to Troye Sivan.”

“And? Are you comparing yourself with that fine man?”

He sputters and I continue winding him up until I finally confess: “I listen to your music. Just not lately.”

“Why?” He sounds sad.

“Are you drinking by yourself?” I ask. I imagine him in his living room, knocking back a few bottles.

“Yes. I’m drinking all by my lonely self. Because you’re not here.”

“Lonely self? That’s not what the papers say,” I say without meaning to.

“Y/n,” he lets out a small laugh. “Y/n y/n y/n. If I knew any better I’d think that sounds like jealousy.”

“Oh you’ve been keeping that in your back pocket!” I flush.

“Mhm,” he hums happily.

God, it hits me, what were we doing.

The line goes silent and I try to muster a positive voice to ask something to keep the conversation going but I find I can’t. I feel heavy and sad, like there’s a weight in my chest that’s pulling me down.

“Y/n,” he murmurs. Goosebumps erupt across my chest and I recall a memory of that exact voice in my ear with our hands entangled in his bed.

The ache in my chest grows stronger. So strong I nearly confess three words I barely admitted to myself.

I didn't understand it; how a man that made my life so miserable for so long could tug forth such intensity and longing.

He'd explained it to me—told me why he became what he did. And it just endeared me to him more.

Every man l've dated since, even the man I thought was it for me-Gray, never made me reach so deep into any feeling I was scraping the bottom looking for more.

He knew me enough to nudge me towards this new chapter of my life. This (forced) career change. He knew me in a way nobody else has. It was hard to let that go.

But he wasn't planning on sticking around for any of it—why.

“Why,” I start to ask. I bite my tongue before my impulsivity gets the better of me.

“What?” Harry asks.

“Oh nothing,” I try to play it off.

“You asking something?”

“Nope,” I deny.

“Just ask don’t be shy,” Harry taunts. “Y/n isn’t shy.”

“I-“ I’m tempted but I shake my head and then realize he can’t see me. “It’s nothing.”

“If it’s nothing then say it.” He pushes. He was pushy for being so drunk.

“Why did you stop talking to me?” I ask quickly.

The line goes quiet again.

“It takes two,” he replies. “To stop.”

“But why did you stop?” I ask.

“It wasn’t enough,” he states simply like it should make sense to me. But it doesn’t.

“What?”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore. You got cold.”

“Cold?!”

“Yes!” He shouts again.

“Too loud,” I complain.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “You got cold like…like ice. You got icy. You iced me out.”

“No I didn’t,” I deflect his accusation.

“You did! And it wasn’t enough. And I thought y/n doesn’t like me so I let you go.”

What!? I try to make sense of his drunk ramblings. It’s because I was fired from my job, I was lost and spiralling and I stopped talking. I stopped responding to his texts as much until they stopped coming altogether.

“I didn’t like you a long time ago,” I tell him. “That stopped after we talked. After you explained things.”

“Why did you stop?” He asks me instead.

“I…I was going through a rough time. I didn’t mean to but after a while I just thought it was for the better.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going through a rough time?” Harry asks with a surprising tone of clarity. “Why didn’t you let me help?”

“I didn’t want you to help.”

Maybe I did ignore Harry’s messages because I didn’t want to admit where I was. To admit that I needed his help. And I was too stubborn to admit that his connections in the industry could help me further kickstart my new career. That I could lean on him for help but it felt like cheating in an industry that liked to brag about working hard to earn where you got to. So I’d avoided him.

Jeez. I hadn’t even admitted that to myself until now. And suddenly the shame comes back tenfold. A creeping heat spreads up my neck alongside a slow squeezing of my chest as the silence stretches. I feel exposed and I want to bury myself under my blankets until the feeling passes.

“Why?” His voice breaks a little. I grit my teeth.

“I don’t know.”

“Y/n,” he says my name again and I want to cry. Because I say I don’t know but I do. And so does he. “Why are you building your walls again?”

I can’t speak, I’m so choked up with emotion and the last thing I want to do is cry over the phone to a drunk Harry. Unless this conversation sobered him up. Which is even more embarrassing.

"What do want us to be?" He asks suddenly.

"You can't ask me that," I say nervously, but the question zips through me in a frenzy.

"No you're right" he sighs noisily. "I think about you.”

"Me too," | whisper. Did he think about me when he was with all those women, I want to ask. Or was it subject to certain moments only.

"You ruined me y/n," he says it so softly I think maybe he hasn't said it at all. But he repeats it even lower and I know I didn't hear it twice.

My heart sings the same tune, and then I realize: how did I expect him to stay in touch and continue on with our lives when part of us would always be looking back at each other.

“I should go,” I try to keep my voice steady. “It’s getting late and Deanna’s coming home soon and I have to-“

“Okay,” he says but the word is laced with more. It’s okay.

“Okay.” I return. Will it be?

Silence again. The tears coating my lashes land on my cheeks and I wipe it away.

“I like hearing your voice,” Harry says.

“Me too,” I sniff.

“Goodnight y/n y/l/n.”

“Goodnight Har.”

***

I meant to text Harry after that conversation. I meant to apologize or say something—create a bridge that we can meet in the middle of. Even if it’s just as friends.

Me and him have been through a lot together, and so much on our own whilst around each other. We should be able to be friends, long-distance, pining but friends. It couldn’t be that hard.

And yet my fingers hover over his name every lunch break and bedtime. I think about him so much it becomes a permanent fixture in my brain.

And yet I never message him. Weeks go by and it stays quiet. Even from him.

On the final day on set I join some of the team for dinner and drinks. I stick to a single glass of wine and promise Damien I could drive myself home. I’d set him up with someone else on set who I noticed eyeing him with a lingering look and they had spent most of the night talking. It was sweet.

The group reminisces about the shoot and everyone pipes in about projects they were going to move onto soon. I didn’t have anything lined up right now so I listen to everyone else.

As night creeps up on us and people start to leave slowly, I text Deanna I was heading home too. After the night I spent drinking too much I’d taken to letting her know where I was and when I was heading home to make sure I stayed lucid enough on nights out. Otherwise we had agreed she would come and get me.

I step out with Damien and the girl he’s become attached to after tonight. We chat outside the place for a bit as her uber arrives and Damien points out he had driven today and parked nearby.

“I don’t know why we didn’t walk up long time ago,” I laugh and turn to Damien. “Don’t worry Damien I don’t need you to drive me home this time.”

“Uhh that’s good,” he says and motions behind me to my car with widened eyes.

“Yes,” I say with a smile. I spin around to my car and freeze.

The last person I ever expected to see leans against my passenger door, arms crossed and smiling with that smile that says I see you and I don’t care what you’re doing but I’m glad I’m here with you.

“Hi,” Harry says softly, his eyes twinkling under the street light.

“Hi?” I gape. “Wh-how-what are you…oh my god!”

His smile grows to a full grin as I throw myself at him and it’s like my mind and my whole world quiets. Like I never knew how loud everything was up until I felt the silence in his arms. Like everything would be okay because he was here.

“Oh god,” I turn back to Damien, remembering he was here too. “Sorry—I wasn’t expecting him to be here-“

“Is this Harry?” Damien asks.

I look at Harry and nod in response. Harry’s eyes flash with something as he leans forward and shakes Damien’s hand.

“I didn’t realize by Harry you meant Harry Styles uh it’s nice to meet you?” Damien’s awkwardness comes back in full force.

Harry’s eyes flicker between Damien and I and I remember that he thought there was something going on here.

“Damien and I worked together on set. Today’s actually our last day!”

“Yeah!” Damien fidgets. “It was a cool time…”

“Yeah?” Harry lights up slowly, realization dawning on him too. “Well I have to say thanks mate, for taking care of her the other night. That was you right?”

“Oh right when I picked up your call,” Damien nods. “Shit I didn’t realize who I was speaking to…” We laugh as Damien grows more awkward. “Anyway I’ll leave you two alone. G’night Y/N. Nice meeting you Harry.”

“Goodnight!” I wave him off.

I turn back to Harry with a huge grin. “You totally thought he was with me didn’t you?”

“Can you blame me?” He asks, his hand coming down on my waist, tugging me towards him. I go without hesitation.

“You’re here,” I take his face in my hands. “How? Why? When? Tell me everything.”

“I was in town,” he starts.

“Really?” I raise a brow.

He laughs, and hearing it rumble through his chest while his arms encircle me feels like a shot of espresso straight to my heart.

"Y/n," his mouth forms my name. I want to taste the way that feels again. See if that's changed too.

"You're here."

"How did you know?" I ask even though I knew it had to be Deanna.

“I have my sources,” he smiles secretly. We can’t stop smiling.

He brushes my hair to the side and it feels like a dream. He was here. He was gathering my face in his hands, hands I only dreamed of.

“I was in town,” he begins again. “Because I couldn’t stop thinking of you.”

My breath catches and I can't stop staring at him; he looks even more handsome and chiseled than the last time I saw him.

He looked like something that made my heart sing and my stomach tingle.

I trace my hand up his arm and around his shoulder. I want him to kiss me, I want to feel his arms around me.

He laughs which makes me laugh but neither of us take our eyes off of each other.

He reaches up, fingers threading through my hair. "Is this okay?"

"You're always okay," | say which makes him laugh again. What I mean to say is we're okay. Whatever you want to do is okay, as long as it's with me.

"I missed you." He whispers in my ear and it travels right to the centre of my heart.

"Prove it." I respond.

His mouth is delicate as it presses against mine, whispering soft words against them. They make me ache with a hunger I'd only ever felt around him.

When he looks at me again his eyes are more black then green but I recognize them the same. I don’t know how we’re going to make the trip back home when clearly we just want to soak each other in again.

I have an idea.

I open the backseat and Harry looks at me with a mischievous smile.

“Really?”

“You’re not getting lucky,” I roll my eyes with a smile. “But I really want to kiss you indecently and this is the closest place to do that.”

With a laugh he hustles in, tossing something in the backseat, and I follow, every inch of my body aflame. He shuts the door behind me and meets me halfway.

***

Waking up to Harry is better than catching up with him last night. Because things are so much more real when they remain the morning after. It doesn’t feel like just a dream.

“G’morning,” he mumbles when our eyes meet. He looks sleepy but content. Or maybe that’s just how I feel.

“Morning,” I smile, suddenly feeling shy. Last night was all passion and fun but the reality sets in this morning—what were we? Where were we going from here? “M’gonna brush my teeth.”

He follows me into the bathroom, luckily Deanna’s already headed off for work. He brushes with me in the small sink and we can’t stop looking at each other through the mirror. Like our eyes were magnets and they couldn’t help but find their way to the other’s.

“So did you really come all this way for me?” I ask as I brew us coffee. “Does anybody know you’re here?”

He tilts his head, “a couple people know I’m here but everyone thinks I’m just taking some time before we wrap up my album next month.”

“What!” I stop what I’m doing to give him my full attention. “You’re nearly done?”

“Yeah!” He comes closer to me, taking the coffee pot from my hand. “Final sound editing at the studio up north. So I’m s’pose to be here next month anyway but I’m just here early. For you.”

I’m afraid to ask, did that mean he was all mine for the next couple weeks of November? But the moment passes and I continue putting together a breakfast.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” I say for the millionth time.

“Me too,” he kisses the side of my neck and helps me carry our coffees to the table. “I intend to spend as much time with you as possible.”

He answers my unasked question and I feel like I’m glowing from the inside. “Yeah well I just finished on set so I’m unemployed until the next thing I’m on. So I’m all yours.”

“How’s that all going? Tell me.”

So I do. I take him through the sets I’ve been on and the people I’ve worked with. He asks great questions and I feel so deeply seen and not just because he doesn’t take his eyes off of me once.

The conversation leads to a repeat of last night and we end up spending most of the day in bed but I wasn’t complaining.

“I haven’t done this in ages,” he says with a kiss on my head. “Just stayed wrapped up in sheets all day.”

“I think the last time I did this was in London, with you.” I kiss his chin. “That feels so long ago.”

“Every day without you feels so long,” Harry says. “I shouldn’t have let it get this long.”

I shrug, “Yeah. I think I convinced myself it was good. We were fine like that. But now that I have you my god that was too long.”

He chuckles and pulls me into a deeper kiss. He tastes like sleepy familiarity and his hands grip me in places that have made a home for his fingers. I think I was in love with this man.

“What?” Harry asks. I must have paused. “You alright?”

“Yeah yeah,” I go back to kissing him but he pulls away. “No I’m fine! Promise.”

He believes me.

We spend a few days just doing nothing but everything with each other. I introduce him to Deanna and we do dinner together with Harry in a costume so he doesn’t get recognized. Deanna finds it very amusing and so do I. Harry seems tense and I worry it’s because we’re laughing at him but he reassures me it’s not.

I know it wasn’t going to last forever, Harry had a busy life to get back to, but I savour the slow moment we have all to ourselves.

Near the end of the week, while I’m driving us out to a hiking spot Harry brings up something on his mind.

“Can I say something, and you can’t get mad?”

“Well I can’t guarantee that.”

“Try not to?” He asks.

“Maybe.” I can’t promise him that.

“Fine I’ll settle with maybe,” he jokes.

“So are you going to tell me?” I eye him as I pull into the parking lot. He had gone silent.

“Yes, I’m getting to that.” He bites his lip. “Don’t take this the wrong way but you seem a bit distant. Not from me just…from yourself.”

“I seem distant from myself?” I laugh.

“Yeah,” he fidgets with his belt and we exit the car. “Like the y/n I know is only 70% there.”

“What?!”

“No see now don’t go getting mad love,” he says and his pet name only softens the moment slightly. “I just wonder if you’re really alright.”

“Of course I am,” I bristle.

“You always have this fire about you but right now-.”

“Jeez Har, if you’re comparing me to before in London I was more high strung than usual, constantly stressed and having personal issues with my ex. And you were making my life hell. Why are you comparing me to her?”

“No I know!” Harry tries to hold my arm but I brush him off and speed away down the trail. But his stupid long legs catch up easily. “This isn’t coming out how I meant to. But even when we were together last spring. You were still you. You just seem a little sad?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I pull away from him more. “You can’t go MIA for months then pop back into my life and tell me I’ve changed like it’s a bad thing.”

“Y/n you’re purposely not understanding me here,” Harry starts to grow frustrated beside me and it makes me less frustrated sharing the emotion. Like I said—I was very healthy. “I’m not saying you’ve changed. Or that changing is a bad thing! I think you’re a lot more confident and stronger than ever before. I’m just saying your light’s been a bit dimmer in the time I’ve been with you and I’m worried you’re going through something you’re not sharing.”

“Oh my god,” I feel tears prick my eyes and I blink them away before stuffing my glasses onto my face. “My light’s been dimmer? Seriously? I’m fine. I’m okay Harry. You don’t have to worry-“

“But I want to-“

“Well you don’t. And it’s a little late to try and pry me open and dissect what you think is wrong with me.”

“Well I’ve already pried you open it’s the dissecting part that—ow!”

I’ve hit him with my bottle and he shuts up. He was so not funny.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “But I’m here if you want to talk.”

Too little too late, I think bitterly. And the strength of the bitterness surprises me. I stay quiet, not wanting to spew anything I’ll regret later. He trails behind, giving me the space I need.

Apparently I was bitter about our time apart. But I know that wasn’t entirely his fault—I’d admitted to pushing him away because I’d been too embarrassed. Too stubborn to accept I could use his help. So what was it?

I didn’t think I was any less myself than I was a year ago. But as soon as I think it I know it’s untrue.

I sigh and let the sunlight filtering through the coastal oaks and shrubbery warm my skin. Harry continued a steady pace behind me and I feel slightly sorry for getting so defensive.

I continue one step at a time on the worn path walked by so many. I’d done this several times with friends and it was supposed to be special doing it with Harry but I’ve just ruined it.

I ruined it.

If I was any lesser than in my personality, like Harry said, it was probably because I ruined things. And I was upset with myself. I feel like I let Harry go, that I failed at the career I thought I was going to spend a lifetime. I ruined the thing between Harry and I with pride, by pushing him away! And life’s beaten me down with it.

I haven’t been being very honest with myself. Because the truth did hurt. And I’ve been a wimp.

I glance back at Harry but his head his down, his head of curls bouncing at the effort of the uphill slope. My heart floods with warmth just looking at him and I can’t believe I’ve been an idiot.

“Harry,” I stop in the middle of the trail and he nearly bumps into me. He steadies himself on my shoulder and I grasp his hand there before he can remove it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a bitch back there.”

“It’s alright.” He squeezes my shoulder, but his eyes are still wary. “I shouldn’t have been so insensitive. I do that sometimes.”

“No,” I rush to answer. “No you have a point. And I don’t expect you to ever stop calling me out-“

“Likewise,” he gives me a small smile that feels like relief.

“You’re right. I just don’t think I’ve sat long enough to accept it.”

His finger brushes my cheek, wiping the fallen tear. I was not supposed to cry!

“Let’s keep going,” he suggests and I’m grateful for that.

“I think,” I sniffle as my body strains to finish the final stretch of our hike. “I feel like I should be happy and grateful for where I am now. I’m actually really passionate about this new work I’ve been taking on! But a part of me feels like I’m going through the motions. And that makes me feel so shitty.”

My life in London had crashed and burned but it had felt full. Out here I was so spread apart from everyone, I no longer worked at a steady job, and the only person I had was Deanna. Sometimes I think I relied on her too much.

“I think you expect too much of yourself,” Harry puts his hand around my shoulder as we near the end and even though I’m sweaty and it’s kind of gross I let him. “I know how that goes.”

“Yeah maybe,” I brush away another tear. “I just don’t feel very present. I’m either living in the future or living in the past.”

Harry’s face twists into what I can only describe as a knowing grimace.

“Well we made it,” I gesture to the open water below us. We stand for a little while, breathing it in. It reminds me of the first music video set I’d been on with him. When we were getting along and he had seen my enthusiasm for that sort of thing.

“I’ve been living in the past a lot.” Harry admits. “More than usual.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Y/n,” he says and I turn to look at him. Right, I flush. Me.

“What the fuck did we do to each other?” I ask and we laugh. And then laugh some more, releasing a tension neither of us realized we were carrying.

We end up sitting in the ground catching our breaths again. He pulls me into his chest and kisses the top of my head.

“I don’t know how we keep screwing up.”

“It should be a record,” I laugh. “We really don’t know how to deal with each other.”

“Fucking hell,” he laughs.

“What do we do?” I look up into his eyes that are deeper than the forest we hiked through. They’re so full of love that I could drown in them willingly.

“Firstly I should tell you something, long overdue.” He says. He kisses me with a sweetness before telling me, “I’m madly in love with you. I never thought I could feel this way about someone.”

“Well I don’t know how that someone could be me,” I joke but mostly to cover up just how hard his words hit.

“You wound up in my life when I was at my worst-“

“And taken you even lower,” I joke again.

“No.” He brushes my cheek. “No, that was my own doing. You made me believe I could be better. That I should be better, that I shouldn’t be defined by past mistakes. I love you y/n.”

Woah. I wasn’t expecting that.

I scramble to sit up and face him. “Seriously?”

“So serious.”

“Harry,” I hold his face in my hands. It was true, something I barely admitted to myself but as I roll the words through my head it feels true.

“Don’t feel pressured to-“

“I love you too Harry. God. I love you. That felt good to say.”

He laughs and pulls me to him, and even though we’re smiling too hard to actually get a proper kiss in it’s one of the most romantic moments of my life.

“I don’t think this is going to solve our issues,” he says once we’ve dusted ourselves off and prepare to say goodbye to the view. “But I want to try to stay connected.”

“You’ve told me you love me there’s no getting rid of me now.” I warn him.

“I was scared,” he confesses. “I never told you I wanted you to stay. That I wanted you so fucking badly because I was scared you would get so overwhelmed by my life, how much is in the public eye and all of that. I don’t want to subject you to that-“

“We’ve already been papped together remember?” I raise a brow. He blushes as the memory surfaces.

“The night I acted like a complete arse yeah thanks for reminding me.”

“Look at you blushing,” I pat his cheek. He brushes me off. “But I know what I’m getting myself into Harry. I’ve worked for you! I know how public your life is. And we can figure it out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” I reassure him.

“Does that mean…?”

“What are you asking Mr. Styles?”

“Please don’t call me that again,” he groans. “I don’t want to be Mr. Styles to you anymore.”

“No?”

“Only if you’d be Mrs. Styles.”

Now it’s my turn to flush. He laughs at me the same way I did him.

“Harry I barely know what I’m doing with my life. But I do know I love you, and I want to be with you. So I’ll figure the life stuff out as long as I get to have you.”

“That’s very romantic.” He teases.

“I know,” I smile.

“Good. I’d give up the life I have now if it means getting to have you Y/N.”

“Romantic enough,” I tease.

“Remember when we realized we had been at the same Coldplay concert and-“

“Not this again,” I groan. “I’m not bloody asking you to give up your fame and money to start a family.”

“I know I know!” He laughs. “But I just want to tell you that you could. I wouldn’t mind.”

I fan myself, “It’s getting too romantic. Let’s get out of here.”

And that’s the note on which we make our way back down to our car, completely different how we made our way up. It sets the tone for the remainder of his time here.

8 months later:

“G’morning!” I wave to the front desk and walk to the elevator that would take me up to the apartment I called home now. It was spring in the city I’ve grown to love again.

“Is that you?” Harry’s voice calls out when I walk to the kitchen.

“Yes! And I have coffee!” I shout back. I couldn’t sleep last night—first day jitters that I always got when working on a new set.

“Bollocks!” Harry’s voice sounds closer. “I was supposed to do that for you for first day on set.”

“Too bad,” I push the coffee towards him on the island but he ignores it to come to me instead.

“Is it?” He arches a brow. His hands are already running up my sides and my breathing grows shallow. He never failed to pull this reaction from me. Even when we “hated” each other.

I can’t take the teasing so I lean up to press my mouth to his and the coffee is forgotten as he lifts me up on the island and trails his lips down my body. I didn’t need caffeine when I had this.

No. Wait. I had a job to get to.

“Harry,” I try to grab his face back up. “Harry, love, I can’t-fuck.”

“Sorry,” he smiles up at me sheepishly and if I could take a shot of that face it would seriously sustain me for the rest if my life.

“I can’t.” I pout.

“I know. Sorry I got carried away.”

“Drink your coffee,” I steal one last kiss. “Now I feel like I need a cold shower.”

His laugh echoes through the room. “I said I was sorry!”

He dramatically moves to the opposite end of the island and sits down, holding the coffee up to his face. ��Mmmm.”

I smile at the man who had my soul and heart. I was so glad I’d made the plunge to move back to where he was.

After Harry left the States when he finished his album we had tried our best at long-distance. I was afraid to uproot my life to London again and he was willing to move out to San Francisco but I didn’t want him to. I knew his life was in London.

We tried going back and forth for a couple months. I’d invited him back home to Burbank during one of those trips and everyone had hit it off. It almost felt like the missing piece I was looking for to take the plunge. To decide once and for all I was moving away again.

The last time I moved I was running away from everything I knew because I thought it would gain me independence and a life I craved. But ultimately I came crawling back home.

This time I take the leap running to something.

I miss being closer to family, and living with my best friend. I beg Deanna to visit every time we catch up but recently she’s told me she’s moving in with the guy she’s been dating and it makes me feel less bad about leaving her behind again.

Harry decided to move his work life out of the flat to give me privacy, now his team worked out of a small office in central and sometimes I popped by when he was there. We tried to keep ourselves out of the limelight, and so far things had stayed private.

“I’m going to pick you up tonight,” Harry reminds me. “Are you sure I can’t give you a lift there too?”

“No I want to take the train,” I insist. I needed my first day to be independently mine.

We chit chat as we finish breakfast and then I’m out the door again towards my first day. It’s a cool morning but the sun climbs into the sky and I know it was only going to get warmer.

I had promised the city that I’d be back one day and this was it. I had laid down roots once before and I was back to try once more; my heart was open enough to embrace it, healed enough to love it again.

I was embracing life again and it felt like my glow was back.

Jeff keeps asking if you’re showing up to the album launch, Harry texts.

Obviously, does Jeff not want me there? I text—it was a running joke between us ever since we came out to Jeff that he hated us together. His reaction had been surprise and then resignation. He was tight-lipped about us any time he saw us together.

He’d rather you throw the party.

I didn’t miss that part of the job. Now when I look back at my old career I’m not sure how I did it for years. It was a stress I didn’t want back.

He’d have to pay me a million dollars, I text back.

I’ll let him know your new rates

I get to the tube and sit down. As I lose service I get one last text from Harry.

I love you. Break a leg

And then: but don’t get concussed or anything

I roll my eyes but the smile stays on my face. To be loved is to be known but to be loved is also to have someone else know all of your stupid moments and know you won’t ever live them down.

I send back a heart and an eye-roll emoji.

The tradeoff was worth it…most of the time.

#writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #fic #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #musician!harry #harry stylesxreader #enemies to lovers #dos and dont’s #epilogue #please know I reviewed this piece only like once so take it for what it is #and yeah

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