#I frequently look through my inbox because there are lots of fun asks in there

[causeimanartist]

Okay question - would it be weird for me to start answering old asks? Like, I have stuff in my inbox from months or even years ago. Would that be weird?

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Can I ask, why do you love BL romance better than het romance? What makes them better? I did not mean anything negative, and I know everyone have their own like and dislike but I want to know your thoughts....

Also what do you think that made Asian MLM (BL manga/manhwa/manhua/tv series/movies) romances better than western MLM romances?

Hello! Yes you are more than welcome to ask :) I truly, truly love getting asks in my inbox and have been having so much fun with the fact I’ve actually been getting some recently! Warning this is long (but i have TL;DRs for everything)

___

I think the fastest answer for me is that I am queer, and therefore I find I have a lot more enjoyment and interest in watching queer stories compared to heterosexual ones.

Also, I find a lot of heterosexual romances to be steeped in misogyny, and have low-key or high-key abusive dynamics. And again, do not get me wrong, there are plenty of queer shows where there are abusive dynamics in play, but it is much harder for misogyny to be committed between two men than it is for misogyny to be placed on a male/female pairing. (I love GLs cause, you know…women, but there are a lot more complex dynamics going in to stories written about two women and those can get much trickier for me, and unfortunately many narratives love punishing lesbains with death so.... Anyway, I’m trying to stick mostly to BLs since that is primarily what this ask is about.)

Additionally, I love BLs more than heterosexual romances because of how BLs treat men. Men in heterosexual romances, especially in the West are extremely masculine, often unable to be in touch with their emotions, jaded, misogynistic, they have to be extremely muscular, and we almost never see femme boys or men.

BLs have such a vast range of men, they have twinks, they have femmes, they have gym bros. They have the clowns, and the super masculine boys. There are shows that let boys be boys, be stupid, and stinky, and fucking gross (hey Pat from Bad Buddy), they let boys be angry and aggressive and express their emotions that way (Sean and Yok’s fight in Not Me, Han Baram and Im Hantae’s conversation in the boxing ring in Sing My Crush, Lom and Nuea in The Wedding Plan, Patts in La Pluie), they let boys fight and wrestle and play (Bad Buddy, My School President, Moonlight Chicken, Only Friends). I love queer stories that let men be gay and ensure through the story that that never undermines their masculinity. I love that there are shows that focus on the progress older men can make in their relationships (What Did You Eat Yesterday?) THEY ARE ALSO ALLOWED TO CRY!!!!

And though it is still kind of rare, Asian BLs actually do have femme boys, and while I am sure femme boys exist in Western shows, I think Pose and fucking Glee are like…the only two shows with queer people that I have seen in the last decade that have an femme boy representation at all. On the flip side, I love how often GMMTV puts their boys in drag and that doesn’t even have to be in a queer show. I also generally love the fact that most of the male actors in Asian BLs, and again, especially in Thailand embrace their femme sides in photoshoots and whatnot, that they wear earrings, and jewelry, and makeup and they look hot as fuck, because it helps me with my own gender identity. I feel and see myself much more masculine (and have less dysphoria) when I have an earring or a necklace or makeup on, now that I have seen so many boys do the same. 

TL;DR: I am queer, and heterosexual romances are frequently misogynistic, and men are extremely masculine and rarely allowed to be soft. Asian BLs give us a very broad range of masculinity, but often let boys be boys while also kissing boys. And actors embracing their femme sides helps me feel more masculine when I lean in to my femme side.

___

As for Asian MLM romances compared to Western MLM romances, obviously this is not a cut and dry thing, not all Asian BLs are going to be better than Western BLs but I find I have a tendency to enjoy Asian BLs/queer media more for a few reasons, generally in order of most to least important for me:

Reason One- Family

This may seem somewhat surprising because the first, and honestly biggest reason I tend to like Asian BLs more than Western BLs has much less to do with the queer aspect. It's actually the family dynamics. I think Western media very frequently has a tendency to be very binary in their portrayal of family dynamics, if family is at all included in Western narratives the relationships that characters have to their family is either almost wholly good, or almost wholly bad. You either have a very abusive household that a character is trying to avoid or flee, or you have a traditional, happy, nuclear family, and when characters have a strained relationship to their family, I have noticed a lot more narrative support for leaving that family behind. But for the most part, family does not play a huge role in most Western shows (and, wild concept to me, it’s part of why I think shows like Succession are so successful, because that is all about complex, fucked up, and loving relationships within a family). 

Whereas, in Asian media, far more frequently family and family dynamics play a huge role in the character’s lives, behaviors, and can influence the story. And because filial piety is such an important aspect to many Asian cultures, you get a lot more interesting parent/child relationships out of Asian media than you do with Western content. And I am a white Westerner, but I am fundamentally, culturally a Southerner and despite no longer being a woman, I will never shed the mantle of Eldest Daughter. And that has resulted in a sense of family responsibility and piety that ends up making it very very easy for me to understand the motivations of the characters that remain loyal to their family even when their family is asking for things from them that run counter to their own desires or happiness (I’ve actually had this conversation a lot with @waitmyturtles about the intersections of Southern culture and Asian culture).

And similarly, I find that a lot of Western media with queer characters at least in the time frame that I have been able to find content with queer characters is either wholly homophobic, or wholly accepting. And do not get me wrong, we get family dynamics like that in Asian BLs too, but we also get parents who are upset about their child’s queerness, and will voice that, and yet who still take care of their children. I’m thinking of the film I watched just the other day called Margarita with a Straw where the main character’s mother can barely look or talk to her daughter when she comes out, but because she is disabled, her mother is still there preparing food for her, bathing her, etc. because even if she is upset about her child’s queerness she can’t stop taking care of her. And those aren’t dynamics I often see in Western media. 

I don’t see relationships like Sawismol and Wang in Western media, where a mother can look at her child and say, out loud that she is disappointed, and to be upset, and to still, despite everything, be the person that her son goes to for comfort when he is absolutely devastated, and I don’t see Western parents sitting there and performing that comfort even when they are disappointed in their children’s queerness.

TL;DR: Family dynamics feel a lot more built out, realistic, and complex in many Asian BLs/media that I’ve seen, than they do in many Western shows. Until I started watching Asian media, I had not seen the dynamics I have with my mother or my father played out on screen. 

Reason Two- Casual Trans Inclusion 

And, as a trans person myself, part of what makes Asian BL shows, Thai shows much more specifically, so important, interesting, and influential to me when compared to Western BLs is the casual inclusion of trans people. Like, that is just something Western media is barely ready for. It’s not non-existent. We have and have had shows like The Fosters, Sense8, Pose, The Owl House, and Heartstopper that have some trans rep. But a lot of those shows have a hefty component to them that shows the struggles of being trans.

In The Fosters we have to watch Cole nearly die trying to get his hands on testosterone, in Sense8 we have to watch Nomi be kept as a medical prisoner and stripped of her autonomy and almost lobotomized, in Pose we are constantly exposed to the very real dangers that trans women of color experience including murder, in Heartstopper we are spared from having to witness the transphobia Elle went through, but it is mentioned. I think the only one of these shows that doesn’t have some element of struggle because a character is trans is The Owl House and let us not forget that Raine Whispers goes through fucking hell in that show. And these conversations, and the demonstrations of struggle to just survive and thrive despite that is vitally important in a society that is pushing closer and closer towards genocide against trans people. Stories that show the struggles of trans people exist for the sake of realism but also serve as an attempt to try to garner empathy towards trans people by cisgender viewers. 

Thailand does have stories where a trans character experiences transphobia (3 Will Be Free, The Warp Effect, Secret Crush on You), but they also have so many stories where trans people are literally just vibing. Do you know how revolutionary it was for me when I watched KinnPorsche and saw Yok, and she was happy, and beautiful, and fun, and her entire plot centered around her running that bar, flirting with boys, and playing surrogate mother to Porsche? Or just to see trans women existing, who aren’t even central to the plot, but are just there? (Payu’s secretary at the auto shop is a trans woman, Golf Tanwarin was at the inclusive cafe in The Eclipse, Golf Kittipat had an illustrious career as a music producer in My School President). Like that shit is SO important to me, and I never, never see it in Western media. 

TL;DR: There are many Thai shows especially where trans people just exist, and they have plots that aren’t always centered around them being trans. Which is revolutionary, coming in as a trans Western viewer where the majority of trans rep in Western shows makes me eventually have to watch trans people suffer. 

Reason Three- Passion Projects

The film industry is huge and pervasive in Western culture, and in the US especially, and with that comes big budget projects that stretch out as long as they can squeeze a cent out of a fan base. As a result you get shows that are too long, you get shows that ruin their premise in the last season after five to fifteen years of dragging the shambling corpse of a story along. And again, do not get me wrong, there are plenty plenty of Asian BLs that are cash grabs, that are terrible, where the actors aren’t really in it. But, most BLs in Asia are one season, they get in, they get out, and you forget it if it’s bad, or you hate it forever if it’s objectively bigoted. But the time commitment to terrible pieces is a lot shorter. 

That said, when you have a low budget, and a story you want to tell, it makes my love so much more. Because it means the crew, the writers, the director, and often time the actors are there because they want to be there, because they like the story they are telling, because they have a story they want to tell. It’s part of why I love shows like The Eclipse so much, because that show was made with a budget mainly comprised of pocket lint and hope, because Golf Tanwarin had something they wanted to say.  Most if not all of Aof Nopparnach’s shows give genuinely, inherently queer stories that speak to queer people. Jojo Tichakorn makes pieces that are so full of queer lenses you could never deny the inherent queerness in his shows, even if the story is primarily focused on a straight person/relationship (Mama Gogo). There are so many shows in the Asian BL world where you can just tell that everyone is having fun. LIsten, Fish Upon the Sky is an extremely problematic show, but for me it felt like everyone had a great time goofing off on that set. You can tell EV-ER-Y-BOD-Y in the cast of Mama Gogo  was having the time of their motherfucking lives. 

I also think the West is very self-congratulatory and tends to hold themselves as the standard of televisions and acting, when I am over here watching Asian BLs with some of the strongest acting from young people I have ever seen, and having it be written off because its a) low budget b) gay and c) in another language. Like, when I try to get people in to BL I start with shows like KinnPorsche (which I know drives @bnegiyo mad) cause it has a much higher production value than many other Asian BLs without being prestige and therefore can’t radically alter the perception of what BL is (hello ITSAY/IPYTM and 180 Degrees), Thai BLs especially. And I figure that is the only way to show someone the level of absurdity and camp that comes from a lot of BLs, while also maintaining their interest because it has a higher production value, so that if they end up enjoying that they are more willing to watch the low budget shows. 

TL;DR: Many Asian BLs are pretty low budget, compared to like any Western show, which I find to mean we have more stories in Asian BL that people actually want to tell. (there are still very many shows that people seem to just kinda show up for, or get bored with partway through [looking at you Tee] but.)

Reason Four- Abundance

There are 

So 

Many 

Asian 

BLs 

Here's a fraction of my watch list

I have watched 81 in roughly the last year, and there are so many more on my Plan to Watch list, and there are more coming out all the time. The West has given me like…two, maybe three. And when we do get good queer shows in the West, they are frequently canceled before completion. Especially if they are on Netflix. 

We lost Sense8, fans had to fight for Out Flag Means Death to get renewed, The Owl House got cancelled by Disney after giving their main character a girlfriend, ND Stevenson had to write two ending to She-Ra and fought tooth and fucking nail to get the gay one, Legend of Korra had to save the gay kiss until the end just like She-Ra had to. If you want to get depressed here is a link to an article ‘50 TV shows with Lesbian, Bisexual, and Queer characters cancelled after one season’. Because most Asian BLs are meant to be only one season, we actually get complete stories, rather than ending with unresolved tension, or cliffhangers. 

TL;DR: there is a metric fuck ton of Asian BLs

Reason Five- Sex

The West, especially the US, tends to have a very puritanical view of sex (which makes sense because the Puritans were some of the first colonizers…I mean colonials…to murder everyone and occupy…uh, I mean settle the United States (I would also like to place blame on the Italians and Spanish [hey Columbus] and their Catholicism AND PROTESTANT CALVINISM that also influenced the pervasive societal views of sex and especially gay sex in the United States).  

With ever increasing homophobia and transphobia, so many shows are trying, in my own personal opinion, to garner empathy, sympathy, and acceptance for queer characters by cisgender and/or heterosexual viewers by making their queer characters flat, two-dimensional, virginal, perfect people. But homophobes and transphobes consider holding hands to be just as grotesque and inappropriate as full on porn. With Western, and especially US based, views of sex, many queer characters are sanitized, sex scenes are rare, and if they do exist at all they are usually in shows that have mature ratings. 

That is not the case with Asian BLs. Like, do not get me wrong, there are plenty of pure, virginal, don’t kiss, barely touch BLs out there, but because there are so many BLs, there are also plenty of shows with lots of physical intimacy and multiple make out scenes that aren’t maturely rated, as well as plenty of maturely rated shows that have multiple sex scenes AND CAN INCLUDE KINK WHICH LIKE!!!!! I rarely see in the Western media I’ve watched. Hell, Sense8 is a sexual liberation show that includes multiple orgies, but there is not even a hint of any other kink (besides whatever Dani, Lito, and Hernando have going on).

gif by @radishayuan

Meanwhile, The Warp Effect has fucking puppy play, Bed Friend has pet play, Laws of Attraction which has a couple pretty chaste kisses shows handcuffs to at least imply kink, there’s a ball gag and a fucking leash in Big Dragon, I haven’t seen it but Unforgotten Night has a lot of BDSM themes in it, Rain and Payu have a dom/sub dynamic going on, we have daddy kinks abound, I also haven’t seen this one but I know there is some belt bondage in War of Y. And even if it isn’t shown, kink and bondage specifically are often referenced in passing in shows with sex.

Also, there are very very very few Western shows I have seen that treat sex workers kindly, and Jojo Tichakorn is right there giving us sex workers as main characters multiple times in a row. Taiwan has great physical chemistry, the very few things I have seen from the Phillipines are so fucking queer, Japan even when they aren’t including sex at all have some extremely queer narratives, and when they are including sex? Holy fuck. South Korea is developing, but I have liked what I’ve seen so far, and it’s been fun seeing very rapid progressions in the level of physical intimacy characters are allowed to have, Thailand has been making a name for itself.  

TL;DR: There is a very broad range of physical intimacy in Asian BLs from no sex to lots of sex, but the abundance of content means I am seeing more shows with gay sex in them in like…a month or two, than shows I have seen in the West with gay characters at all in like…the past year. (This is of course, subjective, don’t ask me for real numbers). 

And, you know, in case this response wasn’t long enough, the amount of queer content, the types of stories being told, the rapid and continued development of BL is super interesting to observe in its own right. Sure, it may be driven by marketability and sales, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t some truly important, realistic, vital, and beautiful pieces of queer media being created and shared with the world, a lot of which is much more accessible to audiences than Western media. I go heavy on the Thai shows in part because they are available for free on YouTube. 

I also think the West seems to think that having gay marriage is the be all, end all of queer inclusivity, and that they do not realize that countries without gay marriage are creating some of the most realistic queer content out there right now. The West has a lot it can learn from Asian BLs, but in my opinion, we’ve got our heads too far up our asses to be following their lead.

[orpiknight]

OrpiKnight's FAQ FAQ

For the Neil Gaiman Tumblr FAQ

GO S3 was announced! Will you be updating the FAQ still? Yep! :)

--- Who? Vel (blog OrpiKnight)

Why? I'm excited about Good Omens 2, I was looking through the Asks on Neil Gaiman's blog anyway, and I like having a constructive outlet when I'm going through so much information. And there were a lot of repeat questions. I mainly made it for me and my friends for reference, but then decided to go ahead and throw it out into the Tumblr void, too.

*Are a lot of these questions really frequently asked? Well, this started out being called a "QnA" doc because I was compiling the Asks. Then everyone kept calling it a "FAQ". So I rolled with it. It keeps up with the current Asks as much as possible, though. (I have no way of knowing how many times he gets asked some questions. That's for his inbox to know.)

Will you be actively updating it with new questions/answers? Yes. I update in batches now, every month or so. For my sanity. *When I update things, I usually put the new questions at the bottom of their section, even if they might fit next to something else in it better. This is just to make new ones easier to find. Later on I might reorganize them.

Can you put it in a Tumblr post? No. It's too much information, it can hang out on docs (which is 30+ pages). I'm pretty sure I would hit a word limit if I put it on here. Or break my dash. Or accidentally delete it. *You don't need a Google account to access it. I have tested this signed out on non-Chrome browsers. (I use Firefox btw)

You missed some Asks. Yeah... there is no way I could get all of them. I had to draw the line somewhere.

Some of the questions are strange. Don't I know it. Edit: But I do like to put in all sorts of questions. Sometimes there are things that don't even occur to me to ask that Neil says he gets constant questions about (like the ice cream/ice lolly). Sometimes there are things that I don't realize need clarifying (like "two consenting bicycle repairmen"). One person can ask a creatively specific question that other people are quietly wondering about. I also like the funny ones.

I found an error (typo/link not going to where it's supposed to/accidentally wrong info/etc.)?

But seriously, it's okay to message me to let me know. It's very helpful.

Can I have shared editing access to your document? No.

About the fanfiction thing... Please end my suffering. (And Neil Gaiman's) Edit: I should probably clarify that I do like fanfiction.

I have personal opinions. Please be nice to me.

Can you add or change this, that, or whatever? I work irl, am usually tired, and don't have much time to constantly edit every little thing. Unless you're Neil Gaiman himself asking, it's likely I'm just going to leave it how I organized it. And I mean that in the politest way possible. Speaking of, if you would like to help me out at all with things like bills, medical costs, and food— here's my: Venmo: @ajgvel Ko-fi page (It says you're giving me ducks on there! :D)

It's not expected of course. Regardless, much love to everyone, and thanks for making a space where we can all have fun together about something we enjoy. ♡

Find me on Bluesky: OrpiKnight

[moonliched]

Sorry for the spam questions, I really like thinking about your fic. So, is there anything you'd like to ramble on about that I haven't asked?

you're good! i get screen fatigue and headaches, so i've been pacing myself through the asks. you can't imagine how exciting it was to open my inbox and see questions about my fic!! i love talking about it and this has been lots of fun, thanks so much✨☺️💕💕💕💕

rambling under the cut bc it's super long!

i've been trying to write this into the fic, but idk how well it'll come across, so i might as well say it here! Y/N refers to one of their parents as their 'guardian.' i picture Y/N's guardian as being a careless parent, not bc they don't care, but bc their culture raises children in a more independent fashion. with very little actual raising. they kind of just let them do their own thing, so their guardian was super uncomfortable that their weird hybrid child actually needed a lot of assistance to survive.

Y/N grew up feeling like a burden, and that asking for help or relying on others is evidence that they lack the intelligence and capability to do anything themself. communities are more for convenience than the necessary relationships that humans need by nature, so when people move away they don't keep in contact. this includes blood relatives. communities also scatter to rebuild elsewhere frequently, so by leaving their home planet Y/N understood that they would likely never see anyone from their community, including their guardian, ever again. no one they were leaving behind would see anything wrong with this.

Y/N was seen as bizarre for getting attached to people to the extent of wanting to keep in contact after they moved. as a consequence, Y/N generally fails to keep in contact with anyone they meet unless it's a requirement of work, and they figure everyone will think they're weird if they try to keep in contact. they have turned out quite asocial. you'll notice Y/N rarely seeks out Moon even though he's always coming to visit them. all the same, they can't quite kill the human part of themself that wants people to stick around even when they're drained from too much social interaction.

also, Y/N's other parent is a victim of this. they're human, and left one day for some reason - work, travel, to earn more money for their family. they returned one day only to find their partner and child gone, because their partner did not consider or particularly care that they might want to find them again😬 Y/N works this out as a teen, but there's no way for them to seek them out.

... okay let's do some nicer ones!🍰🍓

🍓 Y/N thinks about eating fish eyes a weird amount. fish skin too. this is because i am rabid about eating chicken skin and also raw meat (prepared ofc) and when i was a child i used to go into the butcher's shop or visit the raw fish on ice in the supermarket and breathe in the smell longingly, and freak out my parents :[

🍓 Moon's love language is biting, unfortunately

🍓 BON-BON sometimes wants to hug Y/N but he got no arms :( he also sometimes wants to fight them too

🍓 BON-BON sometimes just turns on the closest monitor and stares out of it silently while Y/N is doing stuff. he wants to hang out like when a friend comes into your room to chill on your bed without speaking. but all the stuff he does is digital, so Y/N can just see him blankly staring at them and it looks very odd from their perspective lol

🍓 Y/N runs funny bc they learned to run on a flimsy floating community that rocked with the waves

🍓 the Glamrock team are all aware by now that Vanessa is incessantly antagonising Y/N. generally they're wondering if Y/N may have done something before they arrived to trigger Vanessa into launching constant verbal attacks on them, and are feeling extremely uncomfortable on Y/N's behalf. no one wants to be the one to address it with Vanessa

🍓 Y/N has no idea what pizza is, but bc of the name they're picturing some sort of spiky dish like a sea urchin

🍓 Y/N is actually eating more seafood dishes as of late than they usually would bc Vanessa keeps commenting on it, and it makes them feel resentful. so then they cook more fish in rebellion and it becomes a cycle

thanks for reading!!😋✨

[knickynoo]

heyyyy so. i love your blog. and i was wondering, what you think about the headcanon that marty could be diabetic? with what little evidence we have in the movies? ( for example, him turning away peanut brittle which is ALL SUGAR, always drinking sugar free pepsi, asking for something without sugar in 55 at the diner, shoving food in his mouth after the phone call with doc in the morning before he goes to the twin pines lot, etc) i have a headcanon that doc keeps a stash of candy or snacks for marty if his blood sugar crashes or goes low. ( and i know the sleepiness and implied laziness of marty was probably due to mjf being sleep deprived but i read that thats a side effect of low blood sugar?? ) and not to mention the layers he always wears, probably bc hes cold ??? idk , ive had that hc for a while and i just wanted to know your opinions and thoughts on it ??

Ahhh, the return of one of my favorite fringe BTTF headcanons. I saw this ask initially when it popped into my inbox a handful of days ago, but I wanted to have the time to sit and answer it in depth because it really is such an intriguing headcanon. I've only ever encountered it two or so times in the fandom (and one of those times was another ask I'd gotten last year), and I do enjoy exploring the less talked about theories.

I will put this under a read more, on account of I have lots of thoughts, as well as personal experience that allows me some particular insight into how this headcanon might play out for Marty. I'm not diabetic, but I do have a condition that causes a variety of fun issues, one being hypoglycemia. Basically, I have frequent episodes of low blood sugar and need to monitor my glucose level and keep it up by eating often. That being said! Some thoughts on the "Marty is diabetic" headcanon.

• My very first thought is: this kid better be prepared and have lots of supplies stuffed into the pockets of his many clothing layers because otherwise, he's in trouble. Honestly, this is the biggest barrier for me in terms of the headcanon. Marty is on a non-stop, adrenaline fueled ride for most of the trilogy. Between the constant running and chaos and sneaking around and life and death situations, he'd need to find the time during his day for finger pricks to check his blood sugar levels, staying on top of eating regularly, and injecting insulin. That means carrying a glucometer, a lancing device, lancets, alcohol wipes, test strips, syringes, and vials of insulin. He'd likely carry a bag or something that has all this in it.

• BUT! If he left his house that evening and ventured to the mall without any supplies (thinking it'd be a quick outing), one of his first priorities upon becoming stuck in 1955 would be acquiring whatever he needed. His first opportunity for that would be once he arrives at Doc's house and convinces him he's a time traveler. After getting Doc to believe him, Marty would have to be all, "Oh, and, uh, Doc? I really hope you have some medical doctor friends or something because we need to get our hands on some supplies. Like, now."

Then, on top of all the shock that came with being hurtled through time, Marty would have the additional challenge of adjusting to 1950s era diabetes management. No at home glucometer (those weren't available until 1981), and the syringes were large and made of metal. It'd be difficult, but not impossible, for Marty to manage the disease during his travels.

• For the purposes of this hc, let's assume he somehow brought along all his supplies stuffed into secret pockets in his puffy vest. Or, perhaps he uses a portable insulin pump, which became more widely available in the 1980s. It'd look something like this.

The end of the tube would have a needle that'd be inserted under the skin on his lower abdomen, and he'd be able to dose insulin that way. The device would have to be clipped to his pants somewhere. Not sure if Twin Pines McFlys would be able to access this new (and probably super expensive) device for their son. Maybe Doc makes one for him! I could totally see him doing that.

• Anyway, in terms of Marty turning down the peanut brittle, drinking sugar free Pepsi, and asking for something without sugar, it might or might not have anything to do with diabetes in this headcanon scenario. Contrary to what many think, diabetics (type 1 at least, which is what Marty would likely have) don't need to avoid sugar. They need to be mindful of sugar just as any other person should, but they generally don't have dietary restrictions. Sugar would for sure impact his glucose levels, and he'd have to be mindful of that, but as long as he balanced it with the appropriate amount of insulin, he'd be good to go.

It could be that Marty just wants to avoid having to account for extra insulin and avoid a potential spike, so he turns down some sugary foods every so often. Diabetics have to keep careful track of how many carbs they consume, as that determines how much insulin to inject, so if Marty already took his dose for dinner, for example, it'd make sense he'd say no to the peanut brittle even if he wanted it. Otherwise, he'd have to do another injection to cover the carbs from it, and who has the time for that when you're busy sulking over the wrecked car??

• Something Marty would really need to be careful about during all his adventures is making sure his blood sugar doesn't dip too low. High blood sugar isn't good, but low blood sugar (hypoglycemia) is actually more dangerous and considered an immediate emergency. Your blood sugar can be high and rise a good deal before you start to get negative health effects, but once your blood sugar dips below 70 mg/dL, you need to treat it right away. He'd need to be eating regularly, making sure his insulin is matching the amount he's eating, and ALSO factor in that physical activity makes blood sugar levels drop. And all that running he does? Yeah, he's gonna need snacks on hand.

You mentioned sleepiness being a symptom of low blood sugar, and you're right. But if Marty is at that point, it'd likely mean he'd be having a serious hypoglycemic episode. A "normal" blood sugar range is about 80-120, though meals will bring it higher for a bit before you level back out. Once you get below 70, your brain is literally being starved of glucose, which it needs to function. Very quickly, you get hit with a lot of symptoms. Blurry vision, trouble concentrating and speaking, tremors, profuse sweating, tiredness, rapid heart rate and breathing to name a few.

If you manage to catch it soon enough, you can treat the low on your own—by eating or drinking something high carb or taking some glucose tablets—but it's also very difficult to get a meal or some snacks when you're shaking like a leaf and can't even think straight. My blood sugar dipped to 49 the other week, and I went from feeling a little off to experiencing all those symptoms in a matter of a minute or two. For Marty to reach that level in the midst of trying to repair timelines would be difficult, to say the least. An untreated low will lead to unconsciousness, seizures, and even death.

Of course, if Marty is prepared, he'd know to snack during the day to keep himself stable. And I do imagine that '85 Doc's garage is stocked with snacks good for bringing up blood sugar (especially juice, which is one of the BEST ways to bring blood sugar up quickly. My fridge is filled with it.)

• I'm a little concerned about how Marty would fare in Part III, but I assume he'd be well prepared at that point. Let's assume that when Doc came to pick Marty up at the end of Part I, he already had a supply kit ready in the car (Doc absolutely would have a kit for "just in case" that he kept in his garage and brought along if they were going somewhere, and I think he'd have the foresight to bring it to the future). Marty could then have it still for his stay in 1955 while he and Doc prepared the DeLorean for the Old West, and he'd be able to have it for his time spent there in Part III. Very large kit, okay? Doc is super prepared. Although, now that I'm thinking about it, a kit like that would probably still be in the car when Doc gets zapped to the Old West, so....not sure about this one, friends. Let's hope Marty has some stuff in his pockets and that '55 Doc can then help him out in gathering more things together for his trek to 1885.

Well. I'd say I've gone on long enough. In conclusion: Diabetic Marty is a fascinating concept and, while it'd be difficult for him, he could conceivably manage it all during the trilogy if he's careful and has Doc looking out for him as well. There are lots of "missing scenes" and things we don't see in the movies, so Marty could be using that downtime for testing and injecting and guzzling down juice.

Thanks for the ask! This was a fun one.

[jasper-is-autistic-old-blog]

howdy! today i wanna talk about the aac system i use and go over how i use it

im currently using the app Coughdrop on an Amazon Kindle Fire 7. the version from 2022 i believe, which i think is the most recent. it was the least expensive new tablet i could get.

it's in a foam case that looks like Spiderman! i chose all black because it's unobtrusive and goes with my aesthetic but it was also available in red with black eyes and some other colors

i currently use a board called vocal flair 112. i previously used quick core 112 and this is similar, but has a built in on screen keyboard. which means i get less buttons on the home page but it's fine because i found myself pulling up the keyboard frequently to fill in the gaps even with that many buttons.

here's a screenshot, i haven't edited this page, i just use it as the default:

i don't actually make it speak aloud often when im out in public. the person with me who's supporting me (usually my mom) reads my screen if i need to talk to someone else. this is almost purely out of anxiety. the fear that someone will not hear me the first time, that they wont listen or won't understand, that someone will overhear a robotic voice and stare, etc. but it's an improvement over my previous method of texting my mom, pointing at menus, and mumbling or whispering until i either gave up or she finally managed to hear me.

i use this feature in coughdrop to have her read the screen:

it's found under the "repeats" section. it makes a large button you can press to voice the selection or you can have someone else read it.

i also quickly wanted to show my two "advocacy" boards. one is a premade board that ive edited and the second is made by me from scratch. i think im going to combine them eventually, but ive been lazy about it

these don't reflect my current "public use" pronouns, but that's fine.

my speech has always been pretty intermittent and unreliable in some situations, but more recently ive experienced some skill regression that makes it harder than ever to use verbal speech. even when relaxed and comfortable, typing or using aac is easier for me. and when even slightly stressed or overwhelmed or even overly happy or excited, it's very hard to impossible to get any words out.

im hoping to get better about actually using the voice feature instead of showing people my screen. the only time ive ever actually used aac to communicate with a stranger i showed them my screen. i have a lot of anxiety about not being heard which im sure comes from the fact that my voice doesn't always work and that's pretty scary at times. it seems im both afraid of not being heard and being heard but being made fun of or dismissed. im not sure what would be worse.

anyway, sorry for the anxiety tangent.

im hoping to get a strap for the case soon so it's easier to carry around. i tend to have several things with me at all times, my phone, talker, Nintendo switch, my small backpack, and a stim toy or comfort item. it's nice when i manage to cut back on what im carrying and it works out well, but sometimes i just need all those things to get through a situation.

i don't actually own the coughdrop app. im using a free version. it times out after about 15 minutes and you have to exit and enter again, as well as other premium features not being available. i was hoping to eventually save up for it but the price has increased recently to the point where it is out of my budget. maybe if i get a job eventually? even then im not sure if i can justify the cost. the monthly price also went up, which sucks. c'est la vie.

if you have any questions at all, im happy to try to answer! inbox or ask box or reblogs or anything works.

thanks for reading!

[actual-changeling]

i've only been on tumblr for a few months and just discovered there's a thing called blacklisting.

i'm not trying to be controversial or negative but i'm pretty sure that i'm in your blacklist. i'm just guessing based on what i see or don't, but i've got a couple of questions, if you don't mind.

i realize it could be a hassle, but have you considered that especially for new accounts, the blackslisted account may not know that what they did so they will continue that behavior and pass it on to others? Not everyone is as savvy as you are. (if i'm right, i will never get the benefit of interacting with you and you will never get the benefit of interacting with me and i do have things to offer)

would you rather that i stop reblogging and liking your stuff? i don't have a big following, but i reblog because i thought that we have a responsibility to reblog and get posts seen (esp artists). currently i reblog you a lot because for the most part i agree and enjoy your posts.

i think you're a really interesting person and very talented wordsmith. i wish we had more interaction, but i respect that you don't care much for me. in another world, i wish we were friends.

Cheers

Look, I block people for a small number of reasons.

they post content that is triggering to me

they actively harassed me in some shape or form (this includes me blocking people via hateful anon asks, which works but does not show you who they were)

they harassed someone i care about

they are very present in a tag I frequent and their content actively dampens my enjoyment of that topic and/or their content is not triggering but still upsetting enough to warrant a block simply to keep my experience here fun

they're openly being bigoted about something and show no signs of changing their opinion

they are or very much look like a bot

That's it. It is, in my opinion, a very reasonable list, and even if it weren't and I were to block people because their blog is blue, it still wouldn't matter because I get to curate my space.

Now, I have two observations to make.

a) You were able to send me this ask. Tumblr requires people to have an account to send anon asks.

b) You can see and interact with my content.

This means that I have not blocked the account you're using, otherwise you'd not even be able to find my blog, tumblr would send you straight to an error page.

So whatever has brought you to the conclusion that I blocked you, I did not, at least not the account you're currently using. Furthermore, I have honestly no clue who you might be, so even if I had blocked you, i wouldn't even know what to look for.

As long as you're not being an asshole on my posts, in general, or in my inbox then I don't care whether you interact with my stuff, you're free to do so if you want to, I'm not gonna sieve through my notes and check every single person's blog.

My DMs are open, my inbox is open, people can talk to me, I actively give y'all those options. Sometimes I'm bad at responding because I have shit memory for like ten different reasons which means I forget everything constantly, but other than that there's no rules except don't be a dick.

[usmsgutterson]

Hi !! I’m binge reading all your writing rn and I’m still looking obsessed <3 I’d love to request any of the crows x a reader who’s an identical twin, their twin is very outgoing and knows the crows well as they’ve worked together for heists and such but the reader is basically the opposite, they’re on the quieter side and prefer literature and baking to whatever the crows are getting up to. When they meet the crows they’re mistaken as their twin, maybe because their twin asked them to help on a job without informing the crows? Anyway I don’t really have a preference for what type of writing this is or the crows it’s for ^^ thank you :D 👾

The Librarian-platonic! crows x gn! reader

Hi! I'm so sorry that this took me a while--my tumblr inbox is being glitchy and weird atm and requests have been disappearing and reappearing at random so I caught this in my inbox while I was lucky.

As the title indicates, I added one thing! The reader is a librarian because I was like "they gotta have a job. They like to read, librarian it is" and I hope that you're okay with that!

Generally though, thank you for sending this in, this concept was a lot of fun and definitely a good way to try to get myself used to writing requests frequently again after several months of near-burnout and demotivation.

Fic type- this one is literally just fluff

Warnings- mentions of murder (generally), mentions of murder by thwack of thick book to ones head, and theres an allusion to body parts being cut up and put into a box, then leaving that box to float to the bottom of the ocean (Jesper refers to it as slice and dice, and I promise it's less graphic than it seems)

You didn't know why you'd agreed to help your twin. You were their opposite--they were all about the life of crime that most Barrel residents lived, where you were content to work at the library you'd been working at since you were seventeen and sell your baked goods at the market stalls on the weekends.

You did not like the Barrel at all.

You resented how easy it was to find yourself a victim of pickpocketing whenever you wandered into a gambling den on that side of town or even just while you walked through the streets.

You much preferred your apartment and the smell of fresh cinnamon buns to the vague smell of swamp mingling with gasoline and peoples loud, rowdy ways as they ambled from one gambling den to the next. You hated the idea of all of it--why dress in your finest if you're intending to go gamble, when there's always a chance that you'll lose everything you gave, and lose more than that when your aim had been to win it all back after the initial loss?

But still, agreeing to help your twin was a commitment you'd made. You had the layout of a library with something valuable and had agreed to go to the Slat to draw up a sketch, but the hand on your shoulder stopped you in your tracks.

You proceeded into the Slat--the building your twin had said to meet up in--and sat at a table after grabbing yourself a brandy. Like they were being brought to you by some kind of gravitational pull, a tall Fjerdan and the girl he had on his arm walked up to you.

"Y/T/N?" the girl asked. "You've just left the Slat for breakfast. Did you change your mind?"

You blinked, confusedly. "I'm not--"

Another girl spoke up from behind you, and the sound of her voice startled you just enough to make you flinch.

Where had she come from? Was she the kind of person who could steal peoples secrets from the shadows? Was she a spider who hid in the dark corners where people were too oblivious to look, taking their conversations back to the infamous Kaz Brekker in the aim to turn over a profit?

"Not Y/T/N," she said. "Their twin."

A gray eyed boy with guns on his hips approached next, arm lazily draped over a boy with dark red hair and eyes that made him resemble something of a deer when startled.

"What are you doing in the Barrel?" He asked. "Your twin says that you tend to keep to your routine. Working at the library in the Financial District during the day, spending your friday nights baking so that you can sell your goods at the market stalls. You're not the type to come round here."

"They wanted to meet with me," you said. "There's a library out in the countryside that's become a tourist attraction since the Merchant Council actually put effort into proper marketing for it? I've visited every other weekend since it opened. They said that they need me to sketch the layout in the absence of a blueprint, which I know for a fact was destroyed in case anyone tried to steal it to figure out the best entrance and exit points. Did they not tell you they asked me for help?"

"What's your cut of the final profit?" You didn't have to know that voice to recognize it. It was Kaz Brekker, the most infamous criminal in all of Ketterdam, the only person who'd scared Pekka Rollins away from anything, even if the thing he'd scared Rollins away from had been his own criminal empire.

"Can I ask you what all of your names are first? Despite how much my twin talks about you, I don't know your faces, even if there's a near guaranteed chance that I know your names."

"Inej," said the girl who'd snuck up on you. "Inej Ghafa. The boy with the guns is Jesper, the doe eyed one is Wylan. Matthias is the big, blond, brooding yellow tulip who's glowering at you right now, and the beautiful girl on his arm is Nina. I'm sure you know who Kaz is?"

"Too well," you said. "How's the leg?"

Kaz smirked as the crew began to pull up chairs, where he took the spot to your right.

"It could be better than it is now, but it's not as bad as it is in winter. Your cut of the money?"

"They promised to give me 40 percent of their share if I sketched out the layout," you said. "You're being paid twelve million for this. I get just less than one million after the math is said and done."

"In the interest of paying the reason that we get this heist right as rain with minimal issue fairly, what is twelve million through eight?" Kaz asked the group that'd formed around the table whilst you'd been too focused on taking a sip of your brandy to notice.

"1.5 million," Wylan answered within seconds. "Cuts two million off each of our paychecks."

"Well, if Y/N is decent for a blueprint sketch, I'm sure you be too busy with the knowledge that you still have your lives, the clothes on your backs and the homes to which you'll go to notice the half a million you would've missed out on."

Jesper grinned at you. "He's terrifying," he said. "But, in the end, fairness in terms of these things is important to him. He's greed incarnate but he doesn't take well to enemies, so he's making sure your twin doesn't rip you off."

"A baker-slash-librarian and literature fanatic is hardly an enemy," Nina interjected.

"They've got books as tall as the length from my wrist to the bend in my elbow in some libraries," Jesper said. "They hit Kaz with one of those while he's not expecting it, he goes down quick. His death can be made even quicker, provided they use chocolate chunks--which require chopping on a cutting board--in their baking. Slice and dice, ship him to the bottom of the ocean in a box that's two feet tall and one foot wide, and all evidence of their having murdered the Bastard of the Barrel is gone."

"Killing Kaz Brekker is not in my interest," you said. "Not at all. Matter of fact, just sketching this is, and even then, the money is the only reason I'm here. I mean this respectfully, but I miss home. I miss the comfort of my bed and being able to enjoy a fine Wednesday morning without worrying about losing a twenty kruge bill while I walk back home."

"Y/T/N said you were aloof," Nina commended. "Like Matthias. Do we have a liar in our midst?"

"No," you said. "Though I wouldn't say aloof is the right word. I would say quiet, reserved, and uninterested in crime are the right ones, but you've caught me in a moment of sass. Let me switch the brandy for wine and I'll get angsty instead."

Jesper barked a laugh, Wylan, Inej, and Nina grinned. Kaz smirked, and you saw a glint of horror pass through Matthias' gaze. It made you laugh.

"Relax, Matthias," you said. "Want me happy, I'll take a glass of kvas or some gin."

You saw his expression relax, and just shook your head. You were in for a hell of a time with that crew, and part of you couldn't wait for it to really begin.

[sleepy-seal]

{hi gale!! this'll be coming in waves so I don't flood your inbox too hard lmao. anyways part 1}

LORE Gale

What was the inspiration for his blue arc?

How was it putting ocean through every trial imaginable lmao

Not exactly LOREgale but why was Swap!Gale's hell Walmart. secondary why was shell in hell in the first place

At what point did the car dealership/rental service/whatever in Nebraska realize that something was Certainly And Extremely Wrong with Gale

Is he ever able to get therapy

Do you think when it was all calm he got some shitty storemade cake to celebrate

Did you ever want them to Go Insane?

Gale and Acher. can I ask about ocean's thoughts on the strange tiny murderous robot turned silly not-so-murderous robot throughout the arcs

Did anyone from Gale's old town wonder where they went?

Does he ever casually turn into a cat and then both people for a day

Has Gale ever gone to the ocean. because I think shell might like that. what was it like for them during Ocean Trip TM

OH BOY!!!!! MY FAVORITE

- the inspiration was partly inspired by, well, the pawn promotion. by becoming a queen lore gale became much more powerful than acher, and therefore much more dangerous. blue was kind of an improvised decision, as one of the main articles of clothing gale was wearing was . well, blue. so i kind of leaned into that a bit. the other part was well. the magnus archives. i made lore gale's character way more jarchivist coded than i intended so i leaned into it a bit, especially with gale progressively Losing their sense of humanity and their struggle trying to accept it.

- it was very fun lmao. they are my webkinz doll i am soaking with milk and throwing against the wall.

more answers under the cut because this is Long and i have a lot of things to say

- swap!gale's hell is walmart because 1) my partner moth goes there frequently and laments about how much of a labyrinth it is and 2) have you Seen walmart?? also the reason why sale is in hell is. um. fraud?? and also being a willing accomplice in and also enabling some of moth's war crimes.

- probably the moment gale walked into the dealership. they were glowing and sweaty and looked like they just got out of a fight (which they did) and immediately asked for a rental which. uh. definitely set people off. also their fingers were blue.

- maybe! once they are financially capable of it at least.

- probably! it would probably be a time when gale isn't in Stress Baking Mode but also too fatigued to make anything so they just buy a single cake slice and eat that. it tastes terrible but it's probably the most comforting thing they've had in a while

- yes. absolutely. 100%

- okay so i will try to simplify it enough in a way that Makes sense but also gives some insight to their thought process.

> gale under the belief that acher Really Is Moth or close to it and treats them as such, upset that "moth" is not really moth. they are also afraid of her

> they abandon "moth" and cut them off for a brief while, sabotaging its plan

> pure fear. they don't want to die to "moth". they briefly consider murder but quickly write it off

> truce. a calm period where gale thinks there may be a chance of redemption and rekindling

> moth comes back. he takes his eyes off acher and focuses more on shell's friend

> neutral, almost unfamiliar. acher asserts that they don't Actually care about anyone and gale believes them. since the real moth came back they can focus on them instead of the doppelgänger of the friend.

> rocky. they are on uneven ground and since the truce is technically off, it doesn't take much for acher to get on their bad side. this is probably the stage where gale is at their most unstable and willing to hurt back.

> truce, but better. gale hasn't quite forgiven acher yet. they can't. but at the very least they trust him enough to try again.

> trust. acher is a friend. they put their full faith in acher on improving and growing, even if forgiveness is not in sight yet.

- sorta? there were people gale knew before they ran away that considered gale a friend, but not the other way around. some of them think that they probably died, and some of them think they ran away because life was just too hard. their family misses them technically, but they also blame ocean for being so selfish.

- YES. 100%. turns out there are multiple benefits to being a cat. 1. is nobody will question you when you are annoying, because that's Just Cat Things.

- THEY HAVE! gale visited gem's cousin jeremy once or twice. he lives in california with his boyfriend, and they occasionally come by for family reuinions. mostly to see gale. but gale LOVES the ocean. they didn't get to see it much but it's always so big and they don't stop talking about the phenomenon that occurs in the sea.

[coffeewithcutcaffeine]

hello! for the ask game!

✏️ Have you ever written fanfiction?

🐰 What do you think says the most about a person?

🙃 What’s a weird fact that you know?

🧸 Favorite place to nap?

🦋 Describe yourself in three words.

🌙 How long have you been on tumblr?

🎤 Is there a song you know all the lyrics to?

🤎 What color is your hair?

you can pick and choose from these, if they're too many! hope you have fun answering, i'm looking forward to your answers <3

Ahhhh, I am finally rushing to reply to your little surprise! I appreciate you so much for asking just because, even when I did not reblog the ask game back then. Thank you so much for leaving these in my inbox, loveliest! I also apologise for getting back to them only now — I am answering them all to compensate for my extra tardiness. 🙈❤️️

Have you ever written fanfiction?

I have and I still do, though I have a tendency to completely dissect canon each time and turn the story into my own little thing skdskfjsks. My writing mostly consists of fanfiction works — the ratio is three fanfiction projects to one original work (that is still lowkey fanfiction since it is about a person who existed?). I am, however, struggling a lot with one of my canonverses and am mostly focusing on my original work these days as it brings me endless misery joy and many opportunities to improve my craft.

What do you think says the most about a person?

The way they treat others — that always reveals the kind of person they are the most. You can be extroverted or introverted, a sunshine or a grump, someone who is temperamental or detached, but common courtesy and manners shows a lot about what hides inside your heart (and I ultimately believe that it also reveals just how content you are with yourself). I personally cannot stand condescending people with a holier-than-thou approach to life.

Also, the way they observe what is happening around them and react to these situations. Being able to speak out in defence of someone who is being wronged, openly talking about problems around us, and being aware of the horrible things happening in the world speaks volumes.

What’s a weird fact that you know?

Lmaoooo prepare to be ✨in awe✨.

The average person has enough carbon in their body to make 900 pencils.

The digestion system of sloths is so slow, they practically exhale their own gases (they are absorbed through the bloodstream).

There is a legend that the first appearance of croissants leads back to the 17th-century Vienna. Shortly after the defeat of the Ottomans (the Battle of Vienna in 1683), an owner of a bakery began making crescent-shaped pastries to celebrate the victory of the Austrians.

The stomach acid is so strong, it can dissolve metal.

Favourite place to nap?

I always experience the best naps when I spend time in our small family cabin during summer. We have a terrace where I can fit a mattress, so I usually toss it in there, add an ungodly amount of blankets and read there (and nap there). The naps are always so special because I practically get to sleep outside, on fresh mountain air. Naps on the terrace while there is a summer storm raging outside is even more delicious.

Describe yourself in three words.

Opinionated. Emotional. Curious.

How long have you been on Tumblr?

I think I might be entitled to a senior discount because… eleven years. 🙈

Is there a song you know all the lyrics to?

There are many songs I know all the lyrics to because I usually tend to memorise them after listening to them frequently, but my biggest accomplishment is learning the lyrics to “The Ketchup Song” once I started learning Spanish. It was a massive hit in my country when I was a kid, we used to dance to it alllll the time, but our small lizard brains understood nothing back then. Learning the lyrics and understanding what the song actually is about was like entering a new dimension lmao.

What colour is your hair?

I am naturally a brunette with copperish tones but officially became a member of the Redheads Club this year! I have always, always loved this type of hair colours. My mum has always dyed her hair ginger, so ever since I was a little child, I have always wanted to follow this tradition and have the same hair colour. I feel super pleased & am going for an even lighter shade for the summer. ☀️

[jaskiersvalley]

This is GENUINE SERIOUS BUSINESS ANON HATE so you better take it seriously you Letho cosplayer bot you! You're just a moist sock and deserve all this hate for being way too funny and smart!!

Ooooh! Some 'serious' anon hate going on here XD This has been sat in my inbox for far too long because I was having too much fun laughing at everyone else's 'hate' and their responses then promptly forgot I hadn't replied. But long enough has passed now that I look foolish now rather than just super late to the party. I can live with that. And, as always, an ask gets a ficlet in reply. But an ask like this? It gets "rewarded" with dubious morals, questionable medical knowledge and some bittersweetness.

Choose a Different Path

Whatever it was that Tissaia had done to Cahir, it had left some permanent marks. At first it hadn't been obvious, the fainting spells and funny turns chalked up to being on the run, to sleepless nights, to not having enough to eat, to having lived through horrors beyond most people's imagination. It wasn't until Geralt took his ragtag group to Kaer Morhen that it became apparent more was at play than trauma and lack of physical care.

At first they thought things were getting better. The instances where Cahir's movements slowed to sluggish and clumsy before sinking to the ground unresponsive were fewer. He hadn't passed out at all in Kaer Morhen, even seemed to be able to smile again.

Eskel had a lot to do with the smiles. For reasons he wasn't going to question, Cahir had taken quite the shine to him. And Eskel was never going to reject affection, not even when Geralt glared at him while Cahir was slumped against his shoulder and softly snoring away. In a way Eskel found Geralt's near enough fatherly attitude endearing. He'd seen the way Cahir and Ciri bickered, teased and generally terrorised each other. But while Ciri was more like a niece, childish in her youth, Cahir had lost that attitude years ago. Not to mention that Cahir was the one who initiated the start of whatever it was between them.

Of course it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. Eskel had more than once watched as Cahir, for seemingly no reason, stumbled or slumped over, eyes glazed and unresponsive to touch. Each time he came back, he was upset, confused and sometimes defensive to the point of lashing out. Yet after a while he began reaching for Eskel for comfort, mumbled "what's happened" and "where am I" were tearfully asked into Eskel's chest. It was rare for Cahir to remember what had happened in the run up to such an episode, mind completely blank, not even the odd whisper of memory to help clue them in to the cause.

As quickly as they had fallen in love, found solace and comfort in each other, things were just as quick to falter. Cracks were appearing, Cahir was much more inclined to stay by the fire while Eske itched to be out of the keep. They clashed over whether the cold made old injuries hurt more, just because Eskel had more scars didn't mean his opinion on winters not actually making things worse had more weight to it than Cahir's experiences. Meanwhile, Eskel grew fearful of losing Cahir who was only a fragile human after all. They were doomed from the moment they met, Eskel had come to realise. If he didn't die first on the Path, Cahir was sure to succumb to old age eventually.

Arguments became more frequent and, with that, Cahir's dizzy spells increased too. It didn't take a genius to work out that stress was what set him off yet Eskel was powerless to protect him from it. Especially as he seemed to be the source of so much of it. He loved Cahir, he really did, but he didn't know what more he could do to prove it.

In the end he didn't have to. They were in their shared room but Cahir was pacing, throwing his belongings into a pile on the bed, not that there was much in the way of that.

"I can't do this," he seethed. "I'm not some child to coddle, not some pet to pamper. I love you but you're suffocating!"

Conflict had never been Eskel's strength. His bulk and general appearance meant that he looked imposing enough that few people picked fights with him and the few that did usually used their fists instead of words. Most considered him too much of a brute to be a worthy opponent in verbal sparring.

"But you're so young. And fragile!"

Whirling around, Cahir looked downright murderous. "Looks, as you well know, can be deceiving. I don't make decisions for you. And you don't make them for me."

"I don't though."

"You do!" Cahir yelled in frustration. "No training because it is cold. Should have a bit more food because I look like I needed it even though I said I was full. You put more wood on the fire because it was colder than what humans tend to like. And that was all just this morning!"

"I did it all for you!" Voice raising, Eskel ran a hand through his hair, ready to tear it out. "I love you and I want the best for you."

Suddenly Cahir deflated as he looked at Eskel with sad eyes. "Do you though? Or do you love and want the best for what you want me to be?"

"You! It's always been for you and your needs." Tone shifting, Eskel felt the argument slide into something beyond annoyance.

Sadness tinged the air as Cahir shook his head. "I can't do this. Sorry." Before Eskel could ask what he meant, Cahir held a hand up to silence him. "I'll move my things into a separate room. This is your home, don't feel you have to skulk around and avoid me. I won't make life difficult, I promise."

"This is it?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry I couldn't be what you wanted."

Just like that, Cahir walked out of the room. Eskel watched his back, rigid like that of a soldier going into battle. Except there was no battle, Cahir wasn't a soldier anymore. Lost and at a loss for what to do, Eskel followed a minute later. He couldn't be there when Cahir moved all his things, left Eskel's room how it had been before the winter.

Noises from the Great Hall drew him in. Desperate for a distraction, Eskel shuffled in, shoulders hunched. Lambert was kneeling on the ground, yelling at Geralt to get something soft while Ciri stared wide eyed. Cradled in Lambert's hands was Cahir's head, his body rigid as another of his spells wracked through him. It was worse than they had seen before but Geralt didn't seem overly worried. He trotted back with a folded throw.

"He hasn't had one like this in a while," he commented idly.

Uncertain whether he was allowed next to Cahir, Eskel kept his distance. He watched as Cahir was rolled onto his side as his muscles relaxed. Eyes which had been rolling slowly blinked and tried to focus, only tears were quick to blur his vision as Cahir came to. It broke Eskel's heart.

"Esk?" Cahir's voice was a wobbly croak as he blindly reached out.

Resolve to keep his distance breaking, Eskel sank to his knees next to Cahir and cradled him against his chest. After everything, Cahir still called for him.

The usual, teary question of "what happened?" was met with broad strokes across Cahir's back and the reassuring rumble of "you took a funny turn. You're okay now." Eskel couldn't help himself. "What do you remember?"

A head shake and a sad whine was the first response. "I don't- I don't know. We went to bed. But we're not there now. Where am I?"

Distressed sobs were buried into Eskel's soft shirt. His mind was spinning. Cahir didn't remember that morning. Didn't remember the final couple of straws that broke their relationship. Didn't remember breaking up with Eskel. If Eskel was a better man, he would have been honest. But he was only human, he saw a second chance at happiness. And this time he could probably get it right. As long as Cahir never found out, never remembered that morning.

"You're safe in Kaer Morhen. Vesemir is bringing you a warm, watered down cider. While you drink that I'll go make sure our bed is setup, okay?"

Slowly, Cahir untangled himself from Eskel's shirt. Wiping at his eyes, he nodded and accepted the drink Vesemir was holding out for him. Standing, Eskel didn't run but he hurried back to his room. Their room. Swiping everything off the bed, he made it look like they were in the middle of having a tidy, adding his own clothe to the pile with Cahir's. Bed ready, he raced back to the Great Hall where Cahir was bundled in the throw, empty tankard on the ground next to him.

"Come on, I'll get you back to bed, okay? Then we'll see how you're doing after a nap, yeah?"

Meekly, Cahir nodded and allowed himself to be picked up, feeling so much like a weak kitten in Eskel's arms.

"Thank you," hu murmured, eyes closed.

"No," Eskel replied. "Thank you."

[away-ward]

Hello! I wanted to take a moment to address some up coming changes.

I can see that I've been getting a lot of new followers lately, and as always, this comes with an influx of new asks and messages. I want to be clear: I am not, nor have I ever, been bothered by receiving an ask or message. I love getting things in my inbox. Sometimes the content of the message bothers me, or I disagree with what's been sent, and that takes some time to navigate. But the act of communicating and starting a discussion has never been the issue for me.

However, this blog as has been functioning more or less as a Devil's Night fandom blog since 2022, and I've been receiving messages in my inbox since about October of that year. Just recently, we passed 300 messages (which, WhooHoo! yay us for having a (mostly) drama free time!)

Because I get new followers frequently, those who have just finished the series or who just found the blog, I tend to get some pretty similar messages. Since I've had this conversation before, I usually don't have anything new to say, and I don't want the blog to become the same post over and over again. At the same time, I have a hard time not responding to people who have sent in a message with genuine interest.

I have done a lot of hard work to make sure the tags are for organization, and not just for visibility or talking to my followers. For instance, if you want to find all my thoughts and views on Emory Scott, you can search for "#emory scott" on my blog, and it will bring up every post that is about Emory Scott. Because I don't tag for visibility, I will only add a character tag when the post applies directly to them. There's more about my Tagging System on the master list posts. This is true for all characters. I also frequently use "Character discussion" and "Series Discussion" or "Ko's dns tag" for posts that are more general about the series.

If You Are New: please, please, please, go through the character tags before you send me a message. I have been responding to messages for almost 2 years, 300+ replies. Someone has most likely already expressed your thoughts that I have responded to. I know it's a lot of backlog and you just want your thoughts responded to, but at least try to make sure I haven't already said the thing you're looking for.

Plus, the character tags are fun!

Again, I'm not mad! It can just be a little exhausting if all you're looking for is my thoughts, that I've already posted them somewhere else. Maybe you're not looking for my response, and you just want a place to post your thoughts anonymously. If that's the case, please clearly indicate that, but know that I won't post it. I'll read it! But I have no interest in being an anonymous message board (though maybe someone else can start that blog cause it sounds like that would be very popular...).

The only exception to this is Alex. Because I acknowledge that I get a lot of, what I would consider, Alex hate messages I don't like tagging it as Alex Palmer, because then it will go into the Alex Palmer tag, and readers who do enjoy her character will be forced to either block me (which is fine) or endure the several posts that hate on a character they like. I hate the idea of doing that to someone, and so I tend not to tag her.

Brings me to our first change:

Going forward, I will be tagging all the posts that have Alex as a topic of discussion as "no alex tag". It's just kind of funny to me to have a tag that literally is "no tag". It's, like, a joke.

When I come to a past post that is Alex centric, I'll be changing that as well, but it'll take a while to get through. However, I know I have some major Alex posts, and those I will tag immediately. My thoughts on Alex rarely change, though I go through phases of intensely disliking her to being mostly indifferent. I wish I had reasons to like her.

Second Change:

I usually try to respond to asks quickly, and in a timely manner because I hate making people wait. Waiting for someone to read and respond can give me anxiety, and I probably project that on to other people. That's my issue. However, I don't always have the time and I don't always like having huge sections of the blog that's just messages. If they're short enough it's not a problem, but I rarely receive messages on the shorter side. I know it can also be overwhelming to others.

So, I'm going to start queuing or scheduling my message replies, limiting to one or two a day, depending on how long they are or the content. This, hopefully, will avoid creating huge blocks of text on my blog and your dashboards.

Last time I made a change like this was when I started numbering asks and answerers, and that worked out great. People started using the numbers which made referring back easier! I hope you appreciate that I'm trying to keep the blog a bit cleaner and easier to navigate, avoid being repetitive, which is tough especially for new people coming in and not wanting to read a huge backlog of posts, and creating a more fun blog for everyone.

Thank you to everyone for understanding and working with me on this! The messages in my inbox will becoming out soon. Will open the anon messages if anyone has anything to say, though please be aware it might take me a while to reply - Thank you!

-KO

[thelemoncoffee]

here they are, the rolling nerds saiouma blog concepts i said i made yesterday

Kokichi User: cunningCapper Bio: "|| Capper's the name, making you irate is my game || He/It/Freak || Moriarty Kinnie, Professional Bear-poker and Wasp-nest Batter, IRL Clown || Sorry I'm a Gemini, I just can't help it || I can speak French between your legs || Plagues on Humanity DNI || Ask my age again and I'll make you the reason Area 51 exists ||"

Inbox names: Askbox - Asky Waskies UwU Submissions - *has this shut off*

His pinned: *his most infamous post* *idk what that would look like* *probably something cursed as fuck*

Blog Theme: -Eyestrain hell -Lots of red (cause i hc that's his favorite color) -He spent money to get one of those PC blog themes that are nearly impossible to navigate -His icon is probably some sorts of eyestrain jester/clown he drew -Banner is a super cursed image he dug up from the depths of hell

Ko's Custom Tags: Reblogs - #Refuck you in the ASS Queue - #Queue Continuum Debate - #Bear Caves and Wasp Nests Not real opinion - #Buddy-buddy with Satan Memes- #Clown to Clown commemeication His Pets - #Munkustrap and The Tapeworms Mutuals - #HORRIBLE BEASTS(affectionate) IRL Friends - #Insane Clown Pussies Boyfriend - #BoyToy Tales Life updates - #The 'I am actually a real person' Tag Asks - #A death threat probably Anons - #The Council of Shades Fanbases - #OwO a fandom wandom? Fave Characters - #Skrungly Gulp Plinko my Blorbo

Kind of posts: -The awful kind -He likes playing devil's advocate so much he has a tag to notify people he doesn't actually believe what he's arguing -The kind of tumblr user that fires the rent lowering shots -Actually a very good debate account despite the insane chaos in his debate unrelated posts -doesn't show his face- not for privacy reasons, but because he likes being seen as less of a human and more of an SCP

Shuichi User: pinetree-feathers Bio: "magpie told me i give off christmas season vibes"

Inbox names: Askbox - mail Submissions - share-a-thing

His pinned: [hello!] ~~~~ >call me pine >*age* >he/him but i'll accept any >half-hispanic japanese >snakes <3 >ppl tell im mean/sassy, i don't know why >this post is tagged with all my custom tags for easy access >*his DNI, whatever that may look like* ~~~~ [don't mind me i'm just a debate kid looking for someone to have discussions with. feel free to start debates with me on posts, but i will stop responding if things don't remain civil, and will block you if you harass me or others on any of my posts] ~~~~

Blog Theme: -Muted colors -Favorite shade of yellow -Either doesn't use a costume PC theme or has a really nice one -Icon rotates between various pieces of fanart he found of his favorite characters. -Banner is a cozy aesthetic picture

Shu's Custom Tags: Reblog - #interacting Debate - #debate corner Memes - #senseble chuckes Pets - #freeloaders Friends and Mutuals - #mi amigos Boyfriend - #mi amor magpie Life Updates - #life story Asks - #pine's mailbox Art - #quill and ink Selfies - #pine photos Aesthetic posts - #scrapbook various Interests - #my media catalog

Kind of posts: -Chill and pleasant kind -He likes to debate but also hates drama, so he only debates on stuff that isn't going to make him have to temporally turn asks off, this results in him sometimes getting into weird and niche debates -Unlike Kokichi he doesn't try to rile people up, so his blog is really peaceful and has a ton of debate unrelated stuff on it that is fun to dig through -He's posts selfies cause he feels much more confident online than he does irl. also he enjoys trying to maintain an aesthetic

it's also worth noting that while they both have tags to talk about each other as lovers and are openly mutuals who frequently debate together, neither have told anyone that they are boyfriends. so no one knows Capper's boyfriend he calls "The Boytoy" that he insisted is an emo deity is actually Pine, and no one knows Pine's beloved "Magpie" who he speaks so highly of is the shitshow king Capper

[shotoh]

Hello! Not sure if your requests are open (please ignore if they're not) but I love the way you write smut I'm just w e t just reading your stuff and I was wondering if you could do one with Todoroki? He has a shy Fem s/o who is very quiet during sex. And when he asks her why one day she tells him it's because her last ex-boyfriend made fun of her moans and just general sounds she made all the time, so she goes silent. Cue Shouto doing everything in his power to get every single noise he can from her. Lots of praise, fluff, Dom!Sho™ and of course sin 😈 (again please ignore if you don't want to do this but I love your writing and I hope you have a great day)

let me hear you

SYNOPSIS: Despite the seemingly positive progression in both your relationship and your sex life, Shouto starts to question his ability to please you in bed after noticing how he could barely provoke even a noise past your lips. Little did he realize that there was another factor responsible for this occurrence—your rough past with your ex-boyfriend.

pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff, SMUT

word count: 12.2k+

warnings/tags: 18+, dominant!shouto, experienced!shouto, pro-hero!shouto, submissive!reader, shy!reader, characters are aged up accordingly, insecurities, mentions of past toxic relationships, blindfolds, sensory overload/deprivation, temperature play, quirk play, nipple play, praising, dirtytalk, hair-pulling, spanking, soft to rough sex, some degradation at the end (but not a lot), creampie

author’s note: so as you can tell by the length, this request got me inspired to turn this specific scenario into a whole fic, and as a result, it’s been taking me a while to get anything out to you guys. but it’s here and it’s done (finally)! sorry anon if you were looking for pwp… i actually have some other stuff in my inbox that i’ve been neglecting, so from now on, unless my motivation jumps for any reason, i’ll try to keep my answers short and simple! as in more in range of the “thirst posting” variety! so don’t be afraid to send anything in!

big shoutout to my girl rosie ( @shoutogepi​​ ) for beta-reading this for me! love you, babe, and im extremely thankful for your feedback <3

Shouto had acknowledged from early on that you were a shy little thing.

When he first met you, you wouldn’t so much as look him in the eye if you could help it, too hesitant to start a proper conversation with him after growing very aware of his reputation. Any glance or thought of him would cause you to erupt in a fit of distress. You’d shake your head and make a beeline toward the opposite direction whenever you saw him coming.

Yet as much as you wanted to stop your feelings from getting out of hand, there came a moment when you both couldn’t deny the attraction that pulled you toward each other time and time again. The string of tension was wound tighter throughout every encounter at your workplaces; it was only a matter of time before it finally snapped.

Then came the pivotal day Shouto had admitted his interest in you, and in turn, you confessed that your feelings for him were mutual. Which led you to make this work somehow.

As the two of you progressed through your relationship, Shouto had taken extra care to advance at your pace. Dates and meet-ups were as frequent as both your schedules would allow for them. Through trials of time and effort, you gradually grew comfortable around each other, discussing even the most mundane things in your lives. Well, as mundane as a hero’s everyday experiences could get. With every exchange, you were making headway in closing the gap and allowing your budding attraction for each other to blossom.

Surprisingly, hand-holding and other physical forms of affection were a hurdle you both overcame quicker than you imagined. It became ingrained to the point that it hadn’t even occurred to you that your fingers were already intertwined while walking alongside each other, or that you made a habit of kissing his cheek—and him, the back of your hand—at the end of your dates until you consciously noticed it one day. You found it an accomplishment for an individual as shy as yourself and someone like Shouto, who mostly kept to a reserved lifestyle.

From then on, you conquered many barriers to bridge a foundation of trust and familiarity. You were thankful that you could freely express yourself around him without fear of judgment. So as the gap in your relationship naturally shortened little by little, it wasn’t long before you two became official and committed yourselves to no other.

In due time, those countless outings that helped flourish your development would eventually lead you to come over to Shouto’s abode.

On one particular night, after Shouto had finished his hero work, he dialed your number just before taking off from his agency’s building, and asked how your day was, only to find out you were stranded at your workplace. The train you usually took home was caught in a huge accident that had cut off most of the routes toward your apartment complex. Upon hearing that you were in the middle of securing a motel to take refuge in for the night, he immediately frowned and blurted out an offer before you could even get the rest of your words across his speakerphone.

“How about you stay at my place tonight?”

There was no way Shouto was letting you stay in some dusty, shady motel room while he had such a cozy space all to himself at home. And despite the circumstances, he had been meaning to ask you to visit his place for a while now.

To be frank, his home was way too big to be occupied by just himself anyway. He had always thought that it could use a bit of sprucing up in the form of people to fill the abundant space to make it more homey. Maybe roommates?

All that aside, he had to deal with your living arrangements for the night first. He sat silently behind the wheel of his car, waiting for your answer. He hoped he wasn’t breaching a level of closeness you weren’t ready to confront yet.

On the other line, you were more hesitant than you liked. You knew greatly that Shouto extended the invitation out of the kindness of his heart, with absolutely no ill-intentions.

No, that wasn’t the problem at all. What weighed heavily on your mind was the fact that this would be the first night you’d share together since becoming a couple.

Which meant that sex wasn’t entirely off the table, right?

Surely no one could blame you for thinking like that. He was a handsome young man, and you, a ripe, young woman—both who had particular needs.

If the newspaper headlines, magazine cover spreads, and billboard signs didn’t give it away already, Shouto was quite a sought-after man. He was a hero whom both women and men would love to succumb to a night full of pleasure with, and you should be thinking the same—revel in the idea actually. Considering he’s, well… yours.

Still… you had a cloud of uncertainty hanging above your head. You were no stranger to sex, but you couldn’t say your last encounters with it were the greatest. Not that you weren’t confident in Shouto’s ability to please a woman—it was simply an entirely different matter altogether.

In the end, you pondered the thought for longer than you probably should’ve.

“Y/n. Y/n?”

Hearing Shouto’s concerned voice resounding in the background made you realize you were holding him up. You shook yourself out of your daze, returning to the conversation. “Ah right,” you uttered sheepishly.

You heard his deep, lighthearted chuckle in your ear. “When you weren’t answering, I almost thought my phone died,” he joked mildly. “So are you okay with coming over? If not then I can drive you to somewhere I think is fairly–”

“N-No, it’s alright, I’ll take you up on your offer tonight.” As you gave your final answer, your voice floundered, trying to make up for your negligence in responding.

There was a stagger of silence, and unbeknownst to you, a smile enveloped Shouto’s lips as he reclined back in his car seat. “Okay, stay put then,” you could hear him start the ignition of his vehicle, the moderate purr of the engine revving in the background before it was overshadowed by the pleasant lilt in his tone, “I’ll be right there to pick you up.”

Not long after your conversation, Shouto pulled up on the side of the curb next to your building, prompting you with a text that he had arrived. Coming onto the sidewalk and seeing him hold his hand up in a gentle wave upon making eye contact with you had butterflies fluttering in your stomach like a young school girl. The sight reminded you of when Shouto would drive over during your lunch breaks to whisk you away for a pleasant chat in the afternoon, or when he’d directly pick you up at your apartment for your planned dates. You supposed this could be considered a date in itself, except unlike the other occasions, you wouldn’t be going back to your apartment afterward.

Then as Shouto whirred in the direction of his residence under the dim-lit roads, the night went on just as you expected it to.

With the thought of having sex with him lingering in your head, the atmosphere in Shouto’s lavish house was suffused with an overwhelming amount of sexual tension.

Though his proposal was an innocent one, it didn’t take long for the man to mirror your indecent thoughts. While you made yourself at home, his scent unknowingly intermingled with yours. You walked out of the shower, wearing only a t-shirt of his that he deemed appropriate enough for you to use tonight, since it acted as more of a long dress than anything. Little did he realize the image of his baggy clothes hanging off your shoulders—exposing your bare collarbones and legs to his prying eyes—would spur him to interpret the situation differently.

When you emerged from the bathroom—skin dewy, tepid, and wrapped in the subtle woody notes of his bath products—you spotted him eyeing you intently at a distance. Aware of the prolonged eye contact, Shouto’s gaze dashed elsewhere and he excused himself to the kitchen to see if he could scramble up something for the both of you to eat, but not before telling you to help yourself to anything in his home.

“I’ll see what we’ll be having for dinner tonight. In the meantime, make yourself comfortable.”

You nodded, a tender smile lifting your face at his hospitality. “Thanks, Sho, and also thank you again for letting me stay here. To be honest, I feel a bit spoiled being in a place like this.” You shied away and teetered on the balls of your feet as you held your hands behind your back.

To Shouto you looked so innocent and sweet—he’d always thought that way about you, but in this instance, there was an underlying layer of allure you held that threatened a lot of his willpower.

From the kitchen, he caught his eyes straying from his cooking, instead wandering in the direction of the living room where you were idling on the couch, your legs tucked beside you. The hem of your (his) shirt brushed against your bare legs with every shift in your position, and it was honestly so goddamn distracting how the fabric would ride up and tease him with subtle displays of your skin. He swore at one point he spotted a flash of color from beneath the hem, but he immediately looked away before he could process the sight.

Despite trying his hardest to push temptation away, he couldn’t deny his desire to embrace you in his arms and press his lips across every inch of skin hiding underneath that loose piece of clothing, dreaming about tossing it off your body for good.

“Calm down, Shouto,” he quietly chided, refocusing on his cutting board before he’d end up hurting himself by accident. He felt like he was leveraging your trust and encroaching on a threshold that he had no right to cross yet—shamelessly sneaking glances at you while you were so vulnerable. Being too distracted, he didn’t pick up on your feet stepping into the kitchen, not until you suddenly spoke up out of curiosity.

“So what are you making?”

His knife hit the wooden board with a single brisk noise that echoed across his kitchen. He turned around, discovering you standing behind him, peering over his shoulder.

“Just some simple rice, salmon, and miso soup. I’m not that great of a cook but I know the basics at least.” He set his knife down as you neared him and placed yourself at his left to get a closer look. Being evidently taller than you, if he even glanced down from this particular angle, he could get a glimpse at the peek of cleavage exposed from the fabric slipping down your shoulders. At the thought, his body had gone on autopilot, and his movements were rigid and extra guarded in your presence.

Your doey eyes gave him a look of uncertainty. He swallowed thickly, “I hope you’re fine with it.”

“Oh, yeah I’m more than fine! It’s just that you seemed like you were having some trouble over here,” you mentioned, peeping over at his station and witnessing his face furrowed in intense concentration, to which you assumed he must have been struggling with the task at hand. His eyebrows were scrunched, the skin between them folded inward as a gritted frown settled on his lips just before his pearly white teeth lightly bit down on the lower skin out of frustration.

Of course you were concerned for him, but was it weird that you also found the whole picture kind of sexy? You couldn’t help but shift your legs around when you were sitting in the living room, finding it incredibly hard to sit still, feeling a desperate need for friction in between your thighs over the idea that you really had a man like him all to yourself. So you half-approached him as an act of concern, your fantasy from earlier slowly consuming the forefront of your mind. Not only did the engaged expression painted on his suave features capture your interest, but the sleeves of his button-up shirt were folded up, allowing you to ogle at the veins and hardened expanse of muscle ripped down his arms.

You placed a hand on his arm, your voice becoming hushed and sweet—practically lascivious by how Shouto tensed up. “Do you need some help?”

Despite the nature of your question, there was an absence of worry in your tone, replaced by heady desire that slipped through the brittle cracks in Shouto’s resolve. From a brief glance at your pouty lips and the lust forming in the highlights of your eyes, he knew you wanted to embark on that next step in your relationship just as much as he did.

“Yes. I do.”

Finally.

Before you could even process the rapid turn of events, Shouto’s hands were already on you, shoving you to the nearest flat surface available. He whisked you into his arms, his hands finding purchase beneath your ass where he palmed at the material of your panties, mindful of the chiffon texture. What a vixen. If it weren’t for that accident with the train earlier, he would have assumed you were planning this.

Feeling your back come in contact with a wall, your arms strung around his neck. Your body hovered off the ground, legs winding at his waist to pull him closer and feel his hard erection grind against your crotch through his pants.

Shouto continued kissing you, his breaths hot and heavy every time your lips met. Yet as your mouths merged and he felt every inch of the soft skin of your pretty lips, he couldn’t decipher whether you found elation through what was transpiring. Though your breathing was ragged, the noise that departed you was nothing short of an incredibly light whimper.

He detached his lips from yours out of worry, despite you making an effort to chase after them. When you realized he wanted to take a pause, you relaxed against the wall, still clinging onto the man as you regained your breath. Shouto took this moment to scan over you. Your cheeks were hot and your expression was flustered—eyes hooded, lips quivering, and wordlessly pleading him for more of his touch. By how you didn’t put up any resistance, he took it as a sign that he was allowed to continue.

But he wanted to be entirely sure. “Are you okay?”

Blinking at him, you were surprised he would have to ask that, but thought of it as characteristic of Shouto to dwell over the matter of taking things at your pace. After you nodded, you spotted a sliver of relief wash over him. His face softened as he readjusted his grip to maneuver you off the wall. He closed some distance between your faces, but did not come for your lips just yet to utter a question, “Shall we take this to my bedroom then?”

This time you didn’t have to say any reply, only gliding through the empty space between your lips, kissing him fervidly to determine your answer. He immediately reciprocated, tilting his head to link your mouths perfectly together. You kept yourselves like that throughout the trip to Shouto’s room and were thankful that he knew his own home like the back of his hand, navigating the expanse swiftly and carefully. Your dinner was long forgotten and before you knew it Shouto dropped you gently on his futon. His body hovered over yours, practically consuming it as he lowered his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue inviting itself to brush against every crevice of your mouth.

Throughout the slow and deliberate dance of your lips, the two of you discarded your clothing until nothing but your underwear was left to separate you from feeling each other at your most intimate. Shouto was glad the night had progressed to the point where he could finally manifest his imaginations and trail his hot lips across your bare skin.

“You’re so pretty, love. And so tempting. Do you realize what you were doing to me earlier, showing off your beautiful legs—exposing your skin that looked like it was begging for me to kiss?” he asked, not expecting a proper answer, but more so a pleasurable, dulcet sound. One that you didn’t want to give him just yet as he continued speaking racy praises into your ears. “I can’t believe it took me this long to finally worship you like this.”

Even as he nipped at every inch of skin his eyes could see, he couldn’t pull many noises from your lips. It was a sign that made doubt crawl in his head, worried that he was coming onto you too fast. However, as his fingers dipped under the waistband of your panties, he was pleased at the wetness pooling between your thighs. He could practically hear his fingers squelch while playing with your folds, and was content with your face contorting into a look of obscenity the more his fingers prodded you.

Your teeth were gritted, feeling the temperature rise quickly in your belly. You brought your hand to your mouth to block out any noise that would leak out as Shouto began spinning his pads against your clit methodically. It was a detail the man noticed, but didn’t bother to comment on out loud, thinking it was rather cute how you were trying to suppress your moans.

His other hand pushed your bra up to reveal your tits to the air, kneading one mound to add to the sear growing in your abdomen. You forced down a squeal despite the tantalizing sensations of having your entire body played with.

“You’re sucking me in and squeezing around my fingers so well. Such a good girl... You’re gonna cum any moment aren’t you?” He gandered down at you, loving how your face scrunched and you moved your hips in tandem with his actions. You offered a frantic nod, caught in the ecstasy of him repeatedly hitting your sweet spot until you eventually felt the heat in your abdomen about to boil over.

“Let me hear you…” he uttered at the last second, but you must have been too ensnared by the sensations to bother listening, biting at your bottom lip while writhing underneath him.

Then one single thrust with his thick fingers finally set you off. Your legs thrashed next to him and you arched your back on the futon, the act of containing your moans making your body lash out more than usual as you came on his fingers. The lone sound that dropped from your lips was nothing but empty noise. Your mouth opened only for nothing to come out, concealed by your need to silence yourself as your hand curled next to your lips and your eyes were shut tight.

Again, your lover did not want to make you feel self-conscious by making any remark on how… much more quiet you were than he expected. He was just glad that you felt plenty of relief and rapture, finding his own pleasure in your cum soaking his fingers, pulling them out of your messy cunt to inspect the sheen glossing them.

Even if your voice didn’t choose to give it away, your reactions surely conveyed your descent into bliss. They were such a treat to gaze upon, Shouto almost wanted to frame each one. He would have to settle with the fact that this wouldn’t be the last time he’d get to witness them... considering he still had a throbbing hard cock tied down in his briefs.

“Did that feel good, baby? Are you alright?” His voice sounded tender and his actions reflected that same gentleness, massaging up and down your shaking thighs.

Still undergoing the effects of that intense orgasm, it took you a while to register his words, but once you did, your shyness took over and your voice murmured out, “Yeah, it was great…” Your affirmation brought back that relieved expression across Shouto’s face that looked down at you with a warm smile, white and red bangs clinging to his forehead.

Not wanting your demureness to get the better of you, you scooted up to pull your panties off, dangling them on one ankle before tossing them to the side. Garnering some courage, you spread your legs and fully exposed your sopping center to his greedy eyes that went wide at the sight, akin to a wolf finally spotting a delicious morsel of meat.

“Please, I want you to fuck me already.”

He gulped at your request but soon fell back into place, that stunned look melting into fervor as he crawled above you.

“Oh, I will, love. I’m gonna make our first night together one you’ll always remember.”

And he did just that, pounding you into the sheets until your head spun and you could think of nothing but his body devouring yours and his length penetrating every crevice inside your pussy.

Though Shouto couldn’t draw the noises he had been anticipating from you, he was satisfied nonetheless. His cum had coated your walls in thick white that overflowed from your folds after you told him at the last second that you were on birth control. Hearing that was enough to drive him to his peak and he released with a loud grunt that overpowered the fragile silence encompassing the room, making up for your lack of moans. The sound rang in your ears and you were shocked by how sexy his voice was—the gravely yet rich rasp in his tone a sublime conclusion to a night snarled by passion. In the back of your mind, you were glad your lackluster noises didn’t distract you from his.

Unaware of the self-deprecation muddling your thoughts, Shouto succumbed to exhaustion beside you, his energy depleted sooner than normal after a long day of hero work and a lack of food in the tank. It wasn’t his fault he had an appetite for something else, and after having his fill, you were staring at him with droopy eyes and a lazy grin, looking just as, or even more, tired than he was. He’d have to make it up to you with a hearty breakfast in the morning.

Not long after did you doze off into slumber next to him. Curling into his chest, he drew you closer and tossed the sheets over your naked body. Shouto wanted to admire your vulnerable state for a while longer before he’d follow behind you, but as he caressed your hair and kissed your forehead, the scene of what had transpired replayed in his mind. He recalled the times you blocked out your voice, not letting a single note slip past your lips— even when it seemed like he was doing a stellar job at getting your body to surrender to ecstasy.

But as the thought dawdled, Shouto suggested to himself it wouldn’t be good to overthink it and ruin the mood when you were blissfully asleep next to him. It wasn’t like it was necessarily a bad thing that you kept your voice to yourself. It was all a matter of how others reacted to different situations. People could be quiet or loud during sex and perhaps you chose to express yourself in other ways while being intimate with your partner. At least, that’s what he hoped before his head sank in his pillow and he closed his eyes, waiting for morning to rise.

Since closing even more of the distance between you that night, you and Shouto made sex an avid part of your relationship. It felt like you two couldn’t go without it, exchanging yearning looks in between moments before coming at each other like animals and tangling yourselves in your limbs. You were even bold enough to fuck in Shouto’s office on one of your lunch breaks, initially dropping off a bento for him at his agency in case he dismissed eating for overworking himself again, only to discover your efforts were pointless as you both ignored your food altogether and found your fill in different ways.

Whenever you went at it in such compromising locations, Shouto was somewhat thankful you muted your noises. But that brought up another constant ever since that night, one which overtime, increasingly became an enigma to him.

In a span of a month, all he could manage to get you to utter while stuffed with his cock was a squeal. Even then, it was relatively muffled in comparison to the enthusiastic reactions he received from his previous partners, who were always babbling nonsense after losing themselves on his cock.

Shouto was never bothered by this fact enough to lose sleep over it. However, it was jarring to him whenever he heard his own voice above yours, and the notion of whether he was the only one finding pleasure in bed together rose for him to question his ability to satisfy his partner. The tendency to ask how you were doing after seemingly making you orgasm through any method of fingers, tongue, or both, developed into a habit marked by doubt. Out of need for a sense of security, he established a safeword for you to use whenever it was necessary, without needing to explain his lackluster performance or otherwise; he’d honor your request wholeheartedly if that were the case. Luckily, no opportunity ever emerged for you to have to use the safeword thus far, which left him stumped. So what exactly spurred you to stay so silent?

Pondering this to himself wouldn’t help him find any closure. He had to be direct with his approach and that meant spilling his thoughts to you.

That very chance appeared on one of your outings together, where you sat with a cup of tea and coffee within the serene atmosphere of a cafe, discussing the current trends with work and friends. He brought up the question casually in conversation, being deliberate with his wording as to not pose concern and perhaps make it a bigger deal than it really was.

“Y/n, we’ve been together for some time now and I’m glad that we’ve gotten so close with each other…” Shouto’s voice lingered off as he watched light ripples cascade the surface of his drink. His misty turquoise and silver eyes trailed over to you bringing your cup of tea to your lips. He drew in a breath to ready himself for what he wanted to say. Meanwhile, you gulped hard for the warm, earthy liquid to ebb through you, hoping it would soothe the jitters you felt upon hearing his words.

Shouto cleared his throat, attempting to look you straight in the eye. “But I’ve noticed that you’ve always been really quiet whenever we have sex. And it’s not exactly a big deal or anything, but I was just wondering why that is?” He paused for a second, the other question he wanted to ask teetering on the tip of his tongue. Hesitant mismatched eyes slowly averted from yours and his fingers curled into his palm on the table. “Am I not as good as you were hoping?”

Hearing his remark, your tea nearly went down the wrong pipe, and you almost choked in response. You quickly set your cup down to stammer, “N-No, not at all! You’re great, Shouto! Terrific actually!” You clarified almost too loudly, scanning over your surroundings to see if anyone was bothered before straightening yourself and adjusting your volume accordingly.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been making you feel this way. It wasn’t my intention at all.” You searched his face, reading the hesitance all over his features that began to ridden you with guilt. “Like I said, you’re more than I could ever ask for in a boyfriend, Sho. You’re so kind, patient, and mindful of all my needs that I sometimes feel like I don’t deserve you. I guess, right now, that statement isn’t far off considering I haven’t been very aware of how you’ve felt lately.” Too ashamed to look him in the eye, you twiddled with your thumbs and kept your head down.

“And… Well… There is a reason why I’ve always chosen to be silent during sex.”

You pressed through your uneasiness to peel off the layers of your past relationships, confessing how your last ex-boyfriend told you that you’d be better off staying quiet when you fucked so you wouldn’t “ruin the mood”. You vividly remembered all the mean comments he said to you, where he mocked your voice and the noises you made. It discouraged you from even opening your mouth sometimes while having sex with him. Even when you spoke to your ex about how his words made you feel, he simply scoffed and brushed everything under the rug as a joke, stating you were too sensitive. Needless to say, you ended that relationship quickly. However, the damage had been done and his words unconsciously stuck with you, affecting your habits.

While in the middle of explaining your history, you hadn’t noticed Shouto’s fist shake beneath the table, his reluctant face slowly contorting in anger as he gnawed at the inside of his cheek. It was when you spoke in great detail about what your ex said to you that he snapped.

“He said what?” he seethed. He was too blinded by ire to regard his cup of coffee boiling with bubbles from the heat radiating off his body.

He wanted to believe that if anything, your bashfulness was what was preventing you from letting your voice run loose. But to instead discover that someone had diminished your confidence enough to invoke a habit like that? Shouto was fuming.

You were stunned by his tone and even more so at his escalating ferocity. Gauging his anger, you wouldn’t be surprised if he went out to go find your ex and give him a piece of his mind this instant.

“Wait, Shouto, chill out!” you warned while frantically waving your hands at him, overhearing a patron in the cafe comment on how hot it suddenly was.

Blinking in realization, he swiftly activated his ice side to dispel the heat, returning to his normal temperature. He exhaled a frosty breath of air. “Sorry,” he muttered, rubbing his neck. You told him he didn’t need to apologize for anything.

“There’s no reason to get worked up about it anyway, he’s not worth the energy. And besides, he’s out of my life now so I should just forget about him.” You attempted to muster more confidence in your words, but found your resolve fleeting. Your eyes dropped to your tea and you took a sip to mitigate the silence afterward.

Shouto thought to himself that it must have been easier said than done when remembering how insistent you were in holding yourself back in bed, whether you were conscious of your actions or not. The white and red-haired man gripped his cup of coffee, swirling the umber liquid with a single gyration of his hand.

“I’m going to be honest,” Shouto began.

You held your breath, another guzzle of tea traveling down your throat. Somehow the assertive side of Shouto made you nervous at times like this.

“Your ex is nothing short of an asshole.”

Then as fast as your hesitance came, you were instantly relieved and released the breath you held. You were glad he shared the same sentiment.

A heavy sigh left his lips in the wake of his words as he set his coffee down. “I don’t think anyone deserves to have their partner mock them over something they can’t control. Plus, who does he think he is to say those things to you...” He was blunt about his distaste for your ex and didn’t bother to suppress his expressions when speaking about him. That alleviated a lot of the trepidations that crept over you at the recollection of your past.

It was like you had always thought—Shouto was such a breath of fresh air next to your former partners. You genuinely couldn’t believe someone could be so nice and understanding before he popped into your life. That being said, you felt guilty that he’d been questioning his worth as your boyfriend because of this, going as far as to doubt his competence in bed by how he could barely excite a proper moan off your lips, when you have felt nothing but bliss the entire time with him.

“I’m sorry I never mentioned this until now,” you murmured, your voice dwindling. Your hands enveloped the ceramic holding your tea, warming your palms and casting a blanket of security in an otherwise awkward position. Sensing you faltering into your docile nature, Shouto pried one of your hands off the cup and encased it in his own. His left side offered you another source of solace that beckoned your eyes to him.

“Regardless of what anyone thinks, I want you to know that that doesn’t matter to me. Whether you’re quiet or loud, soft or rough, or anything else.” He caressed his thumb against the back of your hand, inching it closer to him. “All I care about is that you’re you, and as a couple, we shouldn’t be afraid to express ourselves in front of each other, right?”

Then as a final sign of his sincerity, his lips met your skin, grazing your knuckles against them ever so lightly but just enough that you felt the disparate coldness that made your skin tingle and your heart react all the same. His words immediately pierced through you, helping you to open your eyes and remember just what your relationship stood for after countless moments spent unconditionally loving each other. A softened smile graced your lips that glowed before Shouto’s eyes, to which he couldn’t help but replicate, the newfound light in your pupils dazzling and infectious.

Basking in his affirmations, you gently drew your entwined hands to your side so you could return the favor and place a delicate kiss on the edge of his pinky finger. “Thank you, Sho. You have no idea how much your words mean to me.”

Eyes lidded in relief, he was glad everything was resolved and your insecurities were washing away down the stream, as were his.

Which meant it was fine for him to tease you a bit, right? He had to take advantage of the opportunity while it was fresh, the impish bone in his body acting impulsively. Rising slightly from his seat, he slanted across the table to wane the gap and hover next to your ear.

“You’ll let me hear them next time, won’t you? All your pretty noises?” he whispered huskily, making sure you knew those words were for you and you alone. According to how your eyes immediately fled toward your lap—unable to will yourself to return your gaze straight at him—you got the message.

“O-Of course…” you replied softly, nervous yet unable to ignore the excitement that pumped through your veins, thinking about what the future might entail from here on out. Shouto reverted to his side, easing away from your space.

After downing the remnants of his ground coffee, he reached for his wallet to pull out a hefty tip to leave on your table. Walking over to your seat, he helped you up, your hands naturally lacing together. He leaned over to adorn a kiss against your hair, whispering about how he would look forward to you keeping your promise, then escorted you both out of the cafe.

It was no surprise to the pair that “next time” came very, very soon.

In a short span of only a couple hours actually, after you’d concluded your business throughout the day and found yourselves at Shouto’s residence once again.

You could hardly wait until you were beyond the borders of his home, struggling to keep your hands to yourselves the entire drive there ever since that flicker of passion sparked in the aftermath of your date. The second you crossed that threshold, Shouto pounced on you before you could even pull your heels off, pushing your back against the closed door.

You instinctively opened your mouth to allow his tongue to prod your cavern and dance against yours. Your motions led to teeth clashing and irregular breaths blending together in a tempest that grew more rampant with every second you clung to each other in the entryway. You both possessed a desperate need to feel the other’s warmth within your palms, pawing at the clothes on your backs as you ached to be rid of them.

Languidly dragging your bottom lip between his teeth, Shouto nipped at the fragile outer layer with enough pressure that rushed heat to the surface, and released it from his mouth to observe its plushness bouncing back.

After detaching your lips—albeit with notable reluctance—his forehead rested on yours. His arms were at either side of your head, trapping you as you both broke out into rough breaths. He brought his thumb to your mouth, pressing against your bottom lip that felt scorching beneath the pad of his finger.

Peering at him, you watched delirium swirl in the icy hues of his eyes that observed every detail he could behold. He looked as if he was devouring you with his potent stare alone, marveling at his treasure with the most wanton expression on his handsome face. To have this much of an effect over Shouto still after months of being together set a flare off inside you.

Thoroughly recalling that conversation from the cafe, you were starting to grow braver with every minute that passed. Your shy nature withered at your boldness, triggering you to part more of your lips as your hazy eyes locked with his firmly.

“Shouto~” you moaned. The airy wisp that teemed from your lips was soft yet very much audible to Shouto’s ears. His senses perked up at the sound of your voice registering to him cleanly and he swore the friend in his pants twitched at the sweet utter of his name.

Fuck, what did he have to do to hear more? Shouto had asked himself this, but his body was very aware of the answer, already moving on its own, urged by the dull ache between his legs.

“C’mere–” Shouto left his actions to do most of the talking, too impatient to get his words across. He tugged you off the door, embracing you in his arms before you were easily hoisted over his shoulder.

Giddiness bubbling, you giggled at his display of strength. You were no stranger to this scene, where Shouto’s eagerness found you both in his bedroom at breakneck speeds. However, this occasion was different from the others.

The flames of arousal had flickered in your veins, weaving their way through your entire system. You both knew the blaze would grow until you were practically delirious with arousal and begging with desperation in your voice for that fire to be doused by only him. No one else. Shouto counted on it—counted on you to plead and scream for him by the end of the night. You made a promise after all, and by your show of neediness at the door, you were willing to give him just what he wanted, what he craved.

It was all a matter of how many saccharine sounds he could provoke off your lips. When he had entered his bedroom, he already had a clear idea just how he was going to get every noise he could think of out of you. But first…

Shouto slid you safely down his shoulder, where as soon as you touched the ground he resumed devouring your lips.

“Mmph–” Spit pooled in your throat, your tongue and body suppressed in a whirlwind that forced you backwards. You stumbled onto soft bedding that was, to your surprise, more elevated than you were expecting. The man grinned against you, foreseeing the mild amazement on your face. When you separated with a thread of spit connecting your lips, you pawed at your surroundings, immediately grasping the expansive king-size bed below you that was slightly raised on a wooden platform frame.

Reading the reaction on your face, the man above you chuckled. “You like it? I had it installed a couple of days ago.”

You had to admit that this spacious mattress was definitely an upgrade from Shouto’s futon, which was originally supposed to fit only one adult man. Still, you made do with what you had at the time, and though certain positions were limited with the space you were given, you hadn’t ever complained.

As for Shouto, the new bed was a rather impulsive decision, one that was spurred by the many nights he shared with you, tucking you in at his side until morning came. He couldn’t help but splurge on it. To him, it would all be worth it in the end.

With plans of how to make good use of the new bed floating in his mind, Shouto’s grin edged on a smirk as he crept closer to your ear.

“Why don’t we try and break it in?”

His deep voice dripped with a suggestive lilt that made your thighs almost clench together, if not for the fact that Shouto was already situated between them. Instead, you felt a pang between your legs. Your cunt undoubtedly ached for him, sticking to your panties with slick.

Shouto crawled backwards until he was low enough to reach your ankles and pried your shoes still clinging to your feet, dismissing them to the floor. Remaining where you were, you watched him nip at the skin of your legs, carving an upward trail. His painstakingly scrupulous journey began at your ankles, traveling to tenderly kiss your shin. He followed the path up until he eventually reached your soft thighs.

You shivered at every wet caress against your skin, noting the alternating temperatures of each kiss that kept you guessing. “Sho…” you sighed while fighting off the impulse to bite your lip—a habit of yours since your encounters with your ex.

“Mm,” he hummed in content at your quiet plea, continuing to nip at your thighs as he switched between them. Hooking his hands under your knees, he pulled your legs apart and your skirt rode up your hips to reveal the wet patch on your panties. At the sight, Shouto licked his lips.

The instinct to dive down and drag the flimsy fabric to the side so he could give himself free range to go to town on your cunt was more tempting than words could really describe. But where’s the fun in taking things too fast? Shouto was a patient man and he planned on dragging the night out just for you.

For the time being, he settled with planting a kiss on your clothed slit, sparing it short-lived attention. You were about to rock your hips against him, but he pulled away too soon and left you whimpering as you shuddered at the fleeting sensation of his mouth against your damp panties. Seeing the disappointment on your face, Shouto sent you a reassuring smile while rubbing gentle circles on your outer thighs.

“Wanna take my time tonight... So be good and let me hear you like you promised. Give me the pleasure of hearing all your moans and screams while you’re stuffed with me.”

Your eyes widened, flustered upon hearing his request, but you soon realized something.

Let me hear you.

You remembered those were the words that Shouto spoke to you on the night you first had sex together, and how at the time, you pushed them away and did nothing but made your voice even quieter. But after today, you were determined to make amends with yourself and make up for all those times you relinquished him the full satisfaction of hearing his partner.

With all that said, you nodded fervently in reply. Making out the hardened resolve hidden in your eyes, he got to work at returning your enthusiasm, finding the zipper of your skirt and removing your clothing off your person.

Throughout his show of undressing you, he made sure to keep your mind occupied on his ministrations. His lips found home on any area they could touch while his hands sought to get more of your clothes off. He relished every needy whine he pulled from you throughout the process, worshipping your body until you surely developed a cavity from his honeyed praises. You noticed he was adamant about keeping your panties hugging your lower-half, only going as far as to remove your bra after your blouse floated off somewhere beside you.

Once that was done, you were left exposed before him. You were expecting Shouto to follow suit, but he suddenly stood from the bed and trailed over to his nightstand. He jerked the top drawer open and rummaged his hand inside. You sat up, staring at him with furrowed brows. He wasn’t going to pull out a condom was he? There was no need for one—you’d established that you’d been on birth control since the beginning of your relationship. Plus, nothing would please you more than to hug Shouto’s raw, hard cock in your welcoming walls.

“Aren’t you going to undress?”

He continued his short search in the drawer, not meeting your eyes yet as he replied, “Oh, I will. But I don’t think it’s really gonna matter.”

You cocked your head. “Why?”

Your question was answered through Shouto completing his search as he pulled something out for you to see.

“Because I want you to wear this tonight.”

Your eyes locked onto a strip of lace fabric dangling between his fingers, an elaborate design sown on the material similar to a pattern you’d find on a set of lingerie.

“You want me to wear a blindfold?” You voiced the situation as you saw it.

He grinned at your obvious bemusement. “I read somewhere that shutting down one of your senses helps to amplify the others,” he went on to explain, pinching the black satin straps on each end to flatten out the material, “and of course, it adds an extra element of surprise, don’t you think?”

As he approached the bedside, you glanced back and forth at him and the blindfold, acknowledging that he was making a daring effort at spicing things up tonight. It was likely part of his ploy to wrestle your noises out.

There was silence where you should’ve responded. Shouto knelt on the edge of the bed. “Well baby, are you up for using this? It’s fine if you aren’t.”

“No, no, I’ll put it on. It seems like a fun idea,” you said earnestly. You weren’t letting a measly blindfold impede you tonight. That aside, you also held truth in your words. The prospect of obstructing your precious vision while Shouto had his way with you was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

Right before he lifted the blindfold toward you, Shouto stopped himself. “But first, what’s the safeword?” he diligently reminded you.

“Nea... Neapolitan.”

A smile graced his lips, rewarding your answer with a kiss on your temple. “Good girl.” He then prompted you to turn around so he could tie the lace material over your eyes.

In an instant, you saw nothing but darkness as pitch black consumed your vision. Your other senses began to fill in the emptiness left by your lack of sight, the sounds surrounding you amplified from even the quietest of rustles. Goosebumps ghosted your arms at the soft sheets suddenly embracing your back while Shouto’s rough hands situated you to lay your head against the pillow.

Your arousal heightened at every detail your enhanced senses could pick apart in the darkness. Just hearing the light shuffling of Shouto’s clothes being tossed off his built body while in the void made it unbearable for you to stay still. Your imagination kicked into gear to fill in the murky gaps, forming the image of his toned, contoured body that you’ve been so acquainted with. You could hear your heartbeat quicken at the thought.

You hadn’t realized that your hand started acting on its own accord, embarking up a route toward your breasts with a goal of relieving your deprivation. But Shouto didn’t grant you any gratification through self-pleasure. Grabbing your wrist, he cut your path short.

“No touching. That’s my job tonight.” His voice husked, the domineering edge making you pliant on command. You gulped and obediently withdrew your hand.

It wasn’t long until he fixed himself above you, the mattress dipping with the weight of his arms close to your body. Even with your sight stolen, you could register Shouto near your face, taking his time admiring your form beneath him. His icy breath ghosted your trembling lips.

“If you get uncomfortable, just say the word and I’ll stop right away. But until then, don’t expect me to go easy on you, love.” He offered a warning before diving into the heat of action.

A whimper escaped you amidst Shouto blazing his lips in an icy-hot trail down your jawline and your neck. You swore that a path of steam must have floated off your skin at the chilled nibbles that quickly fused into a searing sensation. The sudden transition from cold to hot left you squirming under him. You tilted your head into the pillow, panting out broken breaths. As a result, Shouto gave extra attention to the area, mapping the expanse of your neck.

“Focus on me. It’s just you and me tonight,” he commanded, glancing up to watch you at odds with yourself and these simulations. Then a solid gasp tore from your lungs as he sunk his teeth in your neck without warning, applying enough pressure to break skin and undoubtedly embed a mark. You focused on the sharp pain puncturing you before it steadily dispersed, your head digging into the pillow as your mouth parted with a squeal.

Shouto brushed his fingers around the spot he bit, admiring the hickey that was now embellished there. “You can’t see it, but this mark looks so pretty on you, sweetheart,” he said without a hint of dishonestly shrouded in his words. “I hope you don’t mind if I give you another one…”

“Ah–!” You couldn’t even voice your fondness for the idea as the icy-hot man went ahead and dug his teeth in the crook of your neck again, making your mouth only good for wailing sounds of pleasure. Your arms weaved around him, a hand in his hair to secure yourself while blinded.

“Hm, that was a good one…” Shouto murmured, focusing on your sounds. “But I’m sure you got more than just that.” Learning about what your ex had the gall to say to you had made him determined to rectify that idiot’s mistake and snatch your noises all for himself.

He proceeded planting open-mouth kisses toward the valley of your breasts, landing on a curve of soft flesh.

“When this is over, I’m gonna make all your exes nothing but a bad dream,” he muttered with your tits in his face, silky strands of dual-colored locks fanned out and tickling your skin. Finding your chest quite comfortable to lay on, Shouto nuzzled himself between them. At one point, you thought he was simply going to remain there and bask in the atmosphere, however, that belief was quickly squashed with a hitched breath stuttering your lungs. His left hand engulfed one of your breasts, kneading the tender mound with a heated palm.

“Make them wish they were here and regret every lie they ever said to you.” He continued musing sweet promises to your ears, but your mind was locked onto him teasing your breast. His thumb and index finger tantalized the hot pebble between them—twisting, rolling, and even pulling with a delicious amount of pressure that made your teeth grind together and for you to grip more of his red and white hair.

The thought of leaving your other tit unattended while its twin was receiving all the attention left his palate bitter. Maybe he could wash it off with a taste…

His tongue ran along the arc of your other mound in a circular motion, slowly moving toward the erect nub in the center that grew increasingly sensitive the closer he got. The tip of that mischievous tongue had dropped in temperature upon reaching the outer ring and languidly traced your areola. Your fingers that were woven in his hair tightened, dragging at his scalp. His ministrations had earned him an raspy moan as he flattened the appendage wholly against the exposed nipple, gliding over it with coolness clinging to the muscle that evoked a long whine past your lips.

Your body curved off the bed and delivered more of your flesh in his mouth. At your generosity, he sucked away, ravishing the stiff bud while staying consistent with his work on the opposite one, pinching harder with his tepid digits.

His pace was hungry and erratic, manipulating the hot and cold that struck your body like unrelenting waves against rocky shores. The sensations were becoming unbearable, especially with the blindfold amplifying every simulation that attacked you. Your senses were climbing at their peak and as a result, you foresaw a flame kindling in your belly.

“Wait—fuck—Sho, if you keep playing with my– I might– Shit!” Broken curses spilled off your tongue, coming to terms that it was futile to stop your orgasm from sneaking up on you. An explosion of nerves were crackling under your skin. Your mouth hung open to let loose a drawn-out cry that was loud enough to ring in Shouto’s ears, much to his delight—one of the first he had the privilege of hearing thus far. That beautiful sound alone told him exactly what happened. He sat up, a peculiar look in his eye.

“Did you just orgasm from me playing with your nipples?”

You laid still, your lips pursed in a line. Your mortification was written on your face—readable even with that band of lace hiding your expressive eyes. Realizing your answer, Shouto’s lips curled, pride swelling in his chest. He was by your side before your self-consciousness could overwhelm you, with nothing to gauge his reaction in the darkness.

“Fuck, is that sexy. Your sounds are so so pretty. You’re just so full of surprises tonight, sweetheart. It’s almost like I’m the one that’s being blinded here.” He bent down to keep your mouth company while shaping your sensitive tits in his hands, massaging them affectionately to ease the tension knotted inside them.

You couldn’t help your curious nature from uttering a question between kisses. “Have you ever… made anyone else cum like that?”

He moved to favor your cheek, a finger edging beneath the waistband of your panties. “No, baby. You’re the first.”

Hearing that washed away both the jealousy and uncertainty churning inside you. You were aware that Shouto had also been with others prior to you, not at all surprised when he disclosed that information at the start of your relationship. And though your time together grew to be the longest of all your old flames, you couldn’t help but occasionally compare yourself to his former partners. Learning that there was one unique aspect you shared with Shouto made you happier than you could admit.

Your blithe musings were quickly torn by the sneaky set of fingers prodding further inside your panties. Gliding his lithe yet calloused digits through your slippery folds, Shouto gathered a glossy coat around his fingers. A strained whimper leaked off your tongue. Your throbbing pussy was finally given relief after screaming to be touched since the very start.

You could hear how obscenely wet you were, your inner thighs soaked with slick arousal that made you want to bury your face in the pillows and fold them over your ears. You were at least glad the blindfold offered some form of blissful ignorance.

“Shit. You absolutely ruined this pair, love. No point wearing them anymore.” He hooked onto the panties and pulled them off, the material wringing as it rolled past your legs. His heterochromatic eyes roved over the dampness saturated at the crotch, appraising how soiled your underwear had gotten through your contactless orgasm. “Maybe I should keep these as a souvenir.”

You couldn’t determine whether he was joking or not. Regardless, it was hard not to react to the lewd implications of his words. “Oh, you…” Despite his clean princely image, Todoroki Shouto could be so dirty when he wanted to be, always knowing just how to push your buttons to get you hot and bothered.

His middle and ring fingers ran along your inner labia, purposely circling your entrance. He was so close to where you needed him to touch you, but it seemed like he was beating around the bush.

A desperate plea eluded you. “Sho– Please…”

Amused, Shouto watched your lips quiver as you tried calling out to him. “You want me to do something, baby? Go on then, tell me.” He cooed encouragement that compelled you to reveal your desires.

“Touch my clit…” Listening to the words that departed you, your voice evaporated into a whisper. Your dripping cunt was aching and closing around nothing as you throbbed with want. “Please, I… I need it.”

“You need it, huh?” he reiterated and you were quick to return that question with a frantic bob of your head. “If that’s the case then I’ll do more than just touch.”

Not a beat later did you feel something slippery join your engorged clit. You squirmed upon contact, discerning the skilled flicking motions to be his tongue on you again.

“Goddddd…” you drawled, the purposeful licks against you slowly making you come undone. Shouto reveled in you thrashing from the ecstasy coursing through your body. He relished every note of your wanton song as he toyed with the sensitive pearl in his mouth. At one point, he had caught you folding the sides of your pillow into your face, leaning your head into the cushion, and obstructing your noises from him. Of course, that wouldn’t fly with Shouto.

He paused his feasting to draw your hands away. You were confused as to why he stopped and where your hands were being led toward until you felt silky locks between your digits again.

“Your hands belong in my hair, got it? I don’t want them anywhere else.” His words vibrated on your clit, sending electric shocks of pleasure throughout your body as he expected you to pull on his scalp, especially when his fingers finally joined the fray. “You’re already wet enough for me to put two fingers in. Maybe three?” He tested the waters with two fingers inserted into your folds and you gasped at the immediate stretch upon entry. A chuckle reverberated from his lungs. He stuck to only two for now, tongue flicking against your bundle of nerves. He skillfully slipped his digit in and out of you, spreading your legs further apart whenever you tried to clamp them around his head, balling your hands in his strands.

“Fuck do I love this pussy… You’re so damn beautiful, fuck!” He couldn’t help but pour out praises when you were becoming such a hot mess for him, grinding your wet cunt on his tongue, and drowning in delirium that made your eyes on the verge of rolling back. Now with three of them inside you, his fingers opened you up, preparing you for his erection that was weeping, eager to be embraced by that pretty pussy of yours.

“Shit..! I-I can’t–!” you muttered between moans—a warning that your second orgasm was approaching quicker than the first. This time, Shouto had the mind to take the hint, smirking against your slit. To your astonishment, all sensations were suddenly ripped away from you, reducing you to feeling frustratingly empty and that knot in your belly to unwind altogether.

Pitch blackness still clung to your eyes as your upper body rose from the bed in retaliation. “Sho! What the fuck, I almost came!” Irritation laced your words, an exasperated look overtaking your features. You were sure he could make it out even with the damn blindfold covering half your face.

Expecting such a reaction, Shouto let out a quiet, dark laugh. You were coming out of your shell in more ways than one tonight. His hand snuck beneath your chin to yank you closer so you could hear every harrowing word off his tongue.

“Sorry to ruin your fun, but I want you on all fours. Right now.”

You could tell he had flipped a switch from his tone alone. Silently gulping down the thick lump in your throat, you turned around in place. You didn’t dare take the blindfold off just yet, maneuvering your body into position without question, no matter how awkwardly you were moving.

Ass poised in the air, hands and knees resting on the sheets, you had no idea how you appeared before his eyes. Judging by the breathy intake of air you heard behind you, you wanted to say he was satisfied.

Oh, was he satisfied alright. More than he could’ve ever asked for. “Ooo.. fuck me…” His palms laid flat on your ass, hands molding into your flesh and rubbing your plushness that spilled between his fingers. “A perfect ass, along with such a–” his thumbs ran toward your core, spreading your folds for him to see your drenched and twitching cunt, “perfect pussy.”

Your nails delved into the sheets, mouth gaping open when you felt something hard and veiny rut against your slit. You could manifest every ridge of his cock in your head, feeling it brush along your clit that was still sensitive from his tantalizations.

“Ah..!” A yelp fled your mouth, released by the sudden smack that stung your ass. That jolt of pain subsided underneath the caresses of his cold, right hand. Shouto rolled your flesh in his palm, gazing down with hooded eyes at your vulnerable form that urged for his cock to ruin you.

He licked his lips. “I’m gonna wreck you, sweetheart.”

“I-I– Mmph... ” Your words locked in your throat, overturned by the head of his cock slipping into your awaiting pussy. “Oh fuck...” you cursed at the stretch, your folds flowering slowly as you spread more of your legs to try and accommodate his size. You thought you would’ve been used to his girth by now, but to your amazement, Shouto’s cock deliciously sprawled you open time and time again.

“You’re so... so damn tight…” Biting his lip, the white and red haired hero suppressed the instinct to roughly thrust forward, but damn, were you making it hard. His head was dizzy with desire and need as his cock stuttered, sheathing itself between your warm, constricting walls.

At the same time, your entire body quivered in delight, feeling so full of him. Your skin dewed with sweat, anticipating the pounding that was about to come, to the point where you couldn’t bear the suspense anymore.

Luckily for you, Shouto somehow read your mind, moving his hips back and then forward to set the tempo. You drawled a sigh of relief, greedily sucking all of him in. You swore you were steadily getting drunk off his plunging cock, thoughts escaping you carelessly.

“Mmm, more…” you chanted.

“More?” Shouto quirked a brow, zoning in on your request.

“Yes, more. Harder. Faster. Please, I need everything you can give me.” You’ve never been this vocal in bed with him before, usually placing your trust in him to take care of you since your voice would only fail you in those situations. Yet this time, you were eager to play with fire, no matter how much you’d burn. “Thought you said you were gonna wreck me? Do it then.”

Threatening shadows glazed over his turquoise and gray eyes, your challenge awakening a fiend inside him.

Harder? Faster? Such an insatiable little thing. Shouto was going to give you all of that and more.

“You asked for this,” large, battle-hardened hands connected against skin, urging another enthusiastic squeal of yours to resonate in the air, “fucking slut.”

His unbridled vigor rocketed into motion, hips snapping forward and pistoning your sloppy cunt that obscenely clamped around him. Taken by surprise at his escalating speed and power, your body lunged forward. Your mouth hung wide in an ‘O’ shape, singing a lewd mantra of moans that grew louder with every strong thrust rippling through your body.

“Agh..! Mm.. fuckfuckfuck–!” Any noise that brimmed from your lips echoed across the spacious room, bouncing off the walls and pleasantly resounding back into Shouto’s ears. He rooted the euphony deep in his mind, planning to put it on repeat later for his own gratification.

Damn, what kind of a dumbass was your ex to say what you were spewing out of your mouth while being jackhammered by cock was anything but sexy. As far as he was concerned, no one was ever good enough for you to begin with.

“Everything about you is so fucking beautiful… Your body, your moans, this greedy little pussy… All mine.” His thoughts escaped him, echoing an unwavering statement. “No other man is gonna matter except me, you hear?”

His cock was stirring too much of your insides and turning your brain to mush for you to properly comprehend his words. Your upper body gradually sunk into the mattress, tongue lolling out of you as your eyes rolled back into your lids, cloaked beneath the lace. Your lack of response earned you a blaring slap against your asscheek. Blood spiked at your rear, splitting you from your fucked-out trance.

Moderate heat enveloped his left palm as he delivered one more impact against your ass to fully seize your attention. You shot up with a piercing yelp, the pulsating ache flashing a gleam of red in the corner of your surrounding darkness. Gripping the back of your head, Shouto mildly tugged your scalp.

“Keep screaming so I know whose whore you are. Don’t even think about stopping.” He breathed chills next to the shell of your ear. Your arms shook at the weight of his words, squishy inner walls clenching in shameless response around his length.

“Mm… Mm-hmm...” you forced a whimper.

Each considerate thought in your head shattered as quickly as it was formed thanks to the unrelenting thrusts snapping against your ass. You willed the next statement out as best as you could, pulling your slurs apart. “Yours… Only yours… I-I love you, Shoooo…”

Endearment consumed him and Shouto couldn’t stop his lips from brushing your cheek, darkened exterior mellowing in the light of your sincerity.  

“Oh baby, I just want to make you feel good… God, you especially make me feel so amazing. Your cunt keeps squeezing on my cock like it was made for me, what did I do to deserve you?”

His saccharine praises drowned in the waves of your sputtering as you uttered filth into the hot stuffy atmosphere, which was further met by the echoing of skin against skin and Shouto’s guttural snarls.

His hands were secured at your hips to leverage himself as he pounded into you vigorously. You clutched on the sheets for dear life with tears dampening the fabric wrapped around your shut eyes. The knot in your stomach that had loosened up when Shouto rejected you from your impending climax before this was tangling into a searing tight ribbon. “Sh-Shouto, please I wanna cum—please make me c-cum..!” you begged without a care, voice loud and clear.

Taking your request into consideration, he caressed his rough hands up your hips and waist. “Since you’re doing such a good job being vocal tonight, I think I should give you your reward–” His pace thundered into a merciless rhythm, heavy balls hitting the underside of your pussy as he rutted deeper and faster into your walls.

“Fuck, fuck, don’t stop!” you droned continuously, intoxicated by the blistering tension intensifying in your lower-half.

“Cum on my cock while I paint you sticky white. Scream my fucking name for me– Let me hear you.” Fingers embedded the skin of your hips, likely leaving bruises as he kept up the frenzied tempo of his thrusts, hitting that heavenly zone that made your back arch.

“There! There! Yes, yes, yes–!” Your chants inevitably died on your tongue, melting into incoherent stammers of approval until a deafening scream rippled from your tired lungs. The sound was unlike any you’ve unleashed before. After so much time containing yourself from fully embracing the feeling of sweet release and euphoria, you swore you were on the verge of blacking out from the intensity.

Lights flashed in the darkness consuming your vision, igniting like fireworks in every corner of your eyes while sparks bursted beneath your skin. Your limbs gave way for you to tumble onto the sheets, letting yourself be held up by Shouto who used you to achieve his own climax.

Witnessing such a beautiful, genuine sound from your parched lips while you gushed fervently around his cock, it didn’t take long for him to reach his peak. “C-Cumming!” He smacked his hips into you one last time to still himself, cock twitching within your pussy. Dumping his thick seed inside you, he filled your walls until there was no space left and his cream trickled out of your folds.

“So perfect, you’re so damn perfect, sweetheart. I love you so damn much.” Shouto used what energy he had left to muse nothing but affection for you, removing his softened length while soothing your body with tender touches. He admired your spent body beneath him that couldn’t summon an ounce of strength to even move. He took it upon himself to clean you up and take care of you, reaching for a towel to dry off the moisture clinging to your skin and finally relieve you of the blindfold to restore your sight.

Beams of light trickled your corneas, having to blink in numerous succession to adjust to the bright environment. Once your focus returned, you met Shouto’s grinning, handsome face, glad to be graced by it after what felt like an eternity. He swiped his thumbs below your eyes to rid you of the tears that had ended up streaking down your face. You held one of his hands that was attached to your cheek, turning over to kiss his palm.

As soon as you wiped yourselves down, he joined you on the bed, drawing you to his side so he could lovingly devour you with cuddles and pecks.

“That was…”

“Amazing?” he finished for you, running a warm hand up your arm and giving it a squeeze.

“Yeah, and more actually.” You giggled mirthfully, basking in the afterglow of sex as you nuzzled yourself in the crook of his neck.

Shouto petted the top of your head, but kept the conversation going. “You know, after all that’s happened today… From our talk at the cafe to the mind-blowing sex just now, I think it’s about time I gave you something.”

You glanced up at him with a curious quirk of your brow. “Hm? What ‘something’?”

“It’s something I’ve been meaning to hand over to you for a while now.” He rose from the bed, scooting off the sheets. “Close your eyes for me.”

“Heehee, you could always blindfold me again.” Your joke earned you a chuckle.

“Tempting, but I’ll leave that again for next time, love. Now if you would…”

You followed his request, lidding your eyes to fuel your evergrowing curiosity. You honed in on where Shouto’s steps took him, realizing he was still by the bedside, rummaging around the drawers. Then you heard a rattle of metal and him rustling back onto the mattress as he placed a cold, steely item in your hand.

You didn’t have to open your eyes to figure out what the object was by the jagged ridges rubbing against your palms. But your expression of astonishment didn’t diminish at the reveal either way.

“This is–”

“The key to my house.”

Those words could have only meant one thing.

You trailed from the key to Shouto’s face, silently asking if he was serious. A smile lifted his lips, hand wrapping around yours to curl your fingers into the key, making sure you registered the fact that yes, he was dead set on his offer to you.

“I want you to live with me, Y/n. This big place means nothing to me if I can’t share part of it with you,” he told you earnestly, a finger brushing your cheek to caress your jaw.

Shouto laid back on the expansive bed, but never tore his eyes away from you as he gazed at you expectantly. Through everything that had happened, you knew there was only ever one answer you could give him.

You dove for his lips, linking yourselves together while tightly gripping the golden key in your hand.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

copyright 2021 shotoh, all rights reserved. i do not allow my creations to be published or translated anywhere else so please do not repost this or share my content on tiktok.

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

in which harry joins a new gym and you’re a trainer there.

a/n: happy new years loves! wishing you all a lovely and happy 2021! first fic of 2021 and im so excited to write more stories this year! to start the new year, here is boxer!harry for you, and this is for my very own timetravelathon fic challenge! if you’d like to join, please let me know, I’d love to have you on board! this story takes place in the 1990, and i know some of the songs mentioned weren’t released specifically in 1990 (just a few years after), but just pretend it was lol because they’re too good to not mention in this story hehe, but happy reading and pls reblog and leave feedback <3

thank you to @sunflowers-styles for beta reading this for me, love you always!

WORD COUNT: 22.6k of (kinda) boxer!harry x trainer!yn filled with angst and smut

WARNINGS: mentions of abandonment and blood 

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘143’ i’d love to know your thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

16 August 1990

With every move he made, Harry felt a bead of sweat drip down the side of his face, down his back, and trailing down his chest. Small huffs of breath were released from his mouth, trying not to make it known that he was exhausted, but he continued until all of his energy was used up through the very end. 

“C’mon,” he muttered to himself, anticipating the certain words to be yelled out. 

He’d been going at it for a while now, muscles aching as he felt like he was about to collapse any minute. But he was determined to finish, to feel the satisfaction running through his veins, knowing that this was his best round. 

“And time!” His trainer yelled at him, clicking the stop button on his timer. 

Harry got in one last punch before putting his arms down, the soreness made his limbs feel like jello as he shook them out. The black leather punching bag was swinging back and forth, the chain that held up the speed bag rattled and slid against the metal bar. Harry loved that sound because it indicated that he was going his hardest to where the chain couldn’t keep up. 

“Nice one, kid.” Henson, his trainer said as he fist-bumped Harry’s red glove. 

Harry simply nodded in appreciation, too exhausted to speak as he placed his gloves onto his knees, leaning down as beads of sweat dripped down onto the matted floor. Several harsh breaths came out of his mouth as he sniffed in the fresh oxygen that was mixed with the musky scent of the gym. 

Benny, Harry’s best friend, exited the ring, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his arm before walking towards Harry, who was still leaning on his knees. Benny tapped Harry’s glove, making him stand up straighter, and Harry patted Benny’s back. 

“Good job out there, mate,” Harry told his best friend. Benny was in the ring with one of the other trainers, Mike, doing one of the nonstop routines. Harry liked training with Mike in the ring, but not when it was for cardio and timed rounds; he liked when it was chill, so he knew how hard he had to hit the target, which were the pads. But for the timed rounds they did, Harry was usually by the speed bags and Mike was in the ring. 

“You too, man,” Benny breathed out with a smile. 

They headed over to the bench to take their gloves off and catch a breather. The pair would do a  cardio day every Thursday to get a good, sweaty workout in, and it always left them exhausted, but definitely much stronger. 

“Hey, I’m not gonna be able to workout next Thursday,” Benny mentioned. Harry furrowed his brows as he put the end of the strap between his teeth to pull it off from the velcro, taking one glove off. 

“What? Why not?” Harry asked confusingly. They never really had to call off a workout, especially Thursdays, unless one of them was sick, but other than that, neither of them missed any workout days. 

“I’m taking the wife on a date,” Benny smirked, clearly very excited to spend some time with his wife, but Harry wasn’t amused. 

“On a Thursday? Why can’t you do that on Friday?” 

Benny rolled his eyes. “Because we both called off Friday, so we’re having a four day weekend to ourselves,” he explained. 

Harry huffed, clearly not entertained. “Guess so…” 

Benny knew Harry was always like this, ever since they were younger. The two had been so close ever since they met, now that Benny had a wife, Harry always felt like the third wheel and that he rarely saw Benny, however, that wasn’t entirely true Benny exercised with Harry every night during the weekdays, and sometimes they even grabbed a bite to eat afterward when Benny could use that time to be with his wife, Marianne. 

Harry had an overwhelming fear of abandonment, it led him to have anxieties about how Benny could just get up and walk out of his life, even though he wouldn’t. Maybe it was why Harry is so attached to him; he’s the closest to Harry and it would completely destroy him if Benny ever decided that he didn’t want to be his friend anymore. That fear only grew based on an unfortunate turn of events that happened in college, four years ago, and it left Harry to pieces. Benny had never seen Harry so broken where he literally had to pick him up and take care of him. He never wanted to see his best friend like that ever again because it absolutely crushed him. 

“It’s two days that we’re not going to be seeing each other, chill out. Didn’t know you were that in love with me,” Benny joked, hoping to lighten up Harry’s mood. Luckily, it worked because Harry breathed out a chuckle, throwing his towel at Benny’s face.

The two collected their belongings and walked over to the trainers as they always do at the end of every workout to have a light chat with them. Henson and Mike told them they did a great job and asked to confirm if they were still on for tomorrow, which Benny and Harry both agreed to. Benny also mentioned about not being able to work out next Thursday and Friday, including the reason why he wasn’t able to. 

Henson and Mike looked at each other as if they were keeping something from the two. Harry titled his head  and looked at Benny as if he was asking if he knew the reason why they were looking at each other weirdly, but Benny just shrugged his shoulders, just as clueless as Harry. 

“Are you gonna tell us why you’re acting suspiciously?” Harry asked. The two trainers both sighed defeatedly. 

“About that…” Henson started. “Next Friday…we’re closing,” he added. 

“Like, closing for the day?” Benny asked innocently, hoping they didn’t mean what he really thought. 

“No…for good,” Mike stated. Harry and Benny’s eyes both widened, words coming out of both of their mouths profusely. They were both talking over each other, disagreeing and not accepting the fact that the gym was shutting down. 

“You can’t just do that-”

“-No, we refuse to let you close down-”

“Alright, guys! Settle down. You’re starting to act like kids, for god's sake,” Henson interrupted the tantrum that was about to start. 

“You guys can’t just do that!” Benny exclaimed. 

“Why are you guys even doing that?” Harry asked. 

Mike sighed. “We mutually decided that it was best to close down because…we really need the money. My rent has been skyrocketing crazy high because more people have just decided that moving to Los Angeles is fun.” He rolled his eyes, and Harry slightly chuckled because it was true. Hollywood was the place to be and people from out of state had just figured out their new profound dream to move to one of the busiest cities. 

“Fight Night will never be forgotten, alright? We’re just ready to let this place go. Plus, the roof is leaking and the wall is tearing apart, and that’s gonna be a pain to fix,” Henson added. 

Mike and Henson were brothers and built Fight Night when they were in college. With the help of their father, they decided to build a place to gain strength and power, all while helping others defend themselves. Harry and Benny had been frequenting it ever since college, and it felt like home to them. Aside from the yelling and stuffy scent, it was a place for them to release any type of anger or stress.

Benny introduced Fight Night to Harry when he had physically picked Harry up from the ground on, what possibly was, the worst night of his life. It was something Harry looked forward to after classes, anxiously bouncing his leg up and down, waiting to get to the gym. Fight Night helped rebuild him, and now, he was in disbelief that the gym was closing. 

“We’re old as fuck now. We wanna live our lives freely. Time to retire now, don’t you think?” Mike said with a sad chuckle. They were both in their late fifties, so Harry and Benny understood why they wanted to be free of work. 

The four of them hugged it out, a very emotional and sentimental hug that was heartwarming but sad. Eyes were slightly watered before Henson pushed them and said, “We’re closing the gym next week, not fucking dying! We have time for this bullshit for an entire week.” 

Harry and Benny left the gym with bittersweet hearts, but they kept Fight Night close to them, knowing that they owed a lot to the gym and the two men who built the facility. Mike had recommended some gyms that were close by if they were still interested in boxing, which they definitely were, so they were planning to check them out first before signing up. 

“Do you wanna get something to eat?” Harry asked once they were outside of the gym. The air was humid, nothing different from inside the gym since it was summer and the sun was beginning to go down. 

“Nah, I’m good. Gonna get home to Marianne. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Benny pat Harry’s back, nodding. 

Harry waved. “See you.” He watched Benny walk away before getting into his silver 1990 BMW 5 series, sighing. He always hated going home, and he always tried staying out for as long as he possibly could. 

As he drove home, he anxiously tapped his hands on the steering wheel as he couldn’t quite keep them still. It’d been happening for a while, a lot more often than he’d like, but he couldn’t help it. 

Walking into the darkness and emptiness of his home, he sighed sadly as he sulked all the way to the restroom to shower. The hot steam relieved his achy and sore muscles, but he was hoping for this shower to also release any occurring and bad thoughts he had in his head. 

He couldn’t help but think about the gym closing down. After going there for years, he couldn’t imagine going to a new gym; he’d adapted and adjusted to Fight Night that it would take him forever to find a gym that truly made him feel wanted. He was scared, to say the least. 

Harry was never a big fan of change. He liked being comfortable and stable and didn't like to move around a lot. So, the thought of going to a different gym that wasn’t Fight Night, terrified him. It only added to the list of things that had abandoned him. 

Once he was out of the shower, white towel secured lowly on his hips, showcasing his beautiful toned torso that was filled and inked with tattoos, his pager beeped. He wondered who it was as he walked over to his nightstand, considering that it was nearing nine in the evening. 

He deeply sighed when he saw the pager read ‘345987,’ immediately knowing who it was. The pager code meaning ‘I’m horny’ could only mean it’s coming from Lizette. 

Deciding not to answer the page, Harry set his pager down before walking back to the restroom, only for his home phone to ring, causing him to stop in his steps and answer the phone. 

“Hello?” Harry answered. 

“Hey, baby,” Lizette said seductively. His brows furrowed, holding the towel to his waist as it had loosened up a bit. 

“What do you want?” 

“You know what I want…” He knew exactly what she wanted. If she hadn’t paged him, he would still know what she wanted from him since all he provided to her was sex. “Isn’t it such a coincidence that I’m outside of your door right now?” Harry didn’t say anything but pinch the bridge of his nose before hanging up. 

He walked towards his front door, sighing before opening the door that revealed Lizette on the other side, wearing a low cut top, cleavage clearly showing, and high waisted denim shorts. She leaned on the doorframe, smirking as she looked Harry up and down, noticing that he wasn’t wearing anything but a towel. Harry gulped as she stepped forward, placing her hands on his stomach before completely taking the towel off, and a smug smile plastered on her face. 

Harry lets her take over like he always did. The feel of someone else’s body holding his, and lips kissing his own and his skin was something he couldn’t compare to anything else. Harry simply only did this to have some companionship, and Lizette made him feel a lot less lonely even if she was only there to have sex with him. He enjoys it twenty-five percent of the time—the other seventy-five percent was him actually wallowing in wanting someone to love him for him. 

After they were done, Harry immediately covered himself with the blanket as Lizette got out of the bed to change back into her clothes. Even though they had sex multiple times and she’s seen him naked, there was something about the vulnerability after the sex that he didn’t want her to see because she didn’t quite deserve that if he was being honest. 

“I had fun. Call you next time,” Lizette bid him goodbye before smacking a big kiss to his cheek, leaving a lipstick stain on his skin. She walked herself out, and once Harry heard the slam of the front door closing, he cringed slightly, wiping the lipstick off. 

He turned onto his side, deeply exhaling. He didn’t feel anything but numbness—it was always like this. He used sex to cope with how he felt, but it only made it worse. Honestly, he didn’t know what else to do, so it was the only thing he turned to, other than boxing. 

Harry fell asleep in his lonely room by himself. His heart was empty and felt like an isolated building that only carried his sadness. 

The entire week had gone by in a flash — Fight Night was officially closed down for good. 

Harry and Benny helped clean the space out as they reminisced and talked about the memories that were made in that gym. A lot of the stories had to do with girls walking by the gym, glancing through the window to see men working out, and then promptly walking into the gym to try and hit on the guys. 

Harry had tried convincing Henson that he could run the gym, but he shot down the idea before Harry could convince him. 

“Kid, look. If you want to run your own gym, do it. I want you to own a gym under your name. Not mine or Mike’s. You deserve to have something of your own, and whatever that may be, work for it. Work hard for it. I know you got it in you because you’re a hard worker, determined. You need to see that for yourself.” 

A conversation that was supposed to convince Henson to let Harry run the gym turned into a sentimental series of words that Harry really needed to hear. Harry didn’t say anything else and nodded as he took in Henson’s words to his heart. Henson was someone Harry looked up to. He was an old man with wise words, and everything he said was either meaningful or mean, in a way to show tough love. So, his words were something Harry lived by. 

The following Monday after Fight Night closed, Benny and Harry were on the search for their new gym. They didn’t plan on quitting the gym after their favorite one had closed down, and Henson and Mike made them swear they wouldn’t stop working out. 

Now, the two were walking into a gym that was up the same amount of time Fight Night was. ‘Don’s Box’ was what the gym was called. The building was newly reconstructed, making the place seem more modern and a little less dingy. The space was quite big, able to fit two rings, six punching bags spread throughout, eight-speed bags, and a weight rack. The walls were painted black, but the amount of natural light from the window was plentiful enough to make the gym feel bigger and brighter. 

A decent amount of people were at the gym, sectioned off with a few kids from eight to twelve on one side, and the rest of the adults on the other. There was a good mix between women and men, and everyone hyped everyone up with motivating words and claps over the music that was playing through two speakers that were hung in the corner. 

“Can I help you?” An older man with gray hair had asked the two. He looked quite intimidating; wearing nylon sweatpants and a black long-sleeved shirt that was rolled up to his elbows, showing his gold watch. The look he had on his face was stern as he crossed his arms, waiting for an answer. 

“Uh, yeah. We’re interested in joining your gym,” Benny told the man. The man looked the two up and down and scoffed. 

“Sure you guys are ready for that?” 

“We’ve been boxing for years, so yeah, we are.” Harry chimed in, a slightly defensive tone added to his words. 

The man glared at Harry, stepping towards him. Harry was slightly taller than him, but he knew the man could definitely take him at any given moment, but Harry wasn’t looking to fight the man, honestly. He wanted to act and look tough in front of him, so the guy wouldn’t give him any crap for it later down the road during his workouts. 

“Alright, alright. Take it easy, pa.” You interrupted, placing a hand on the man’s shoulders, making him turn his head. You raised your brows at him before tilting your head a bit, telling him to step back. The man backed off, giving Harry a snarly glance before huffing. 

“I’m just messing. Gotta know how tough my athletes are to be here,” he spoke in a lighter tone than he was to the man in front of him, putting his arm around you. 

“Thought you were gonna ‘stay on the sidelines’ and let me handle it?” You quoted your father’s words back to him, and he chuckled, putting his hands up, surrendering as he knew he couldn’t win against you. 

“Alright, alright. I’ll let you handle it.” Don, your father, quickly looked at Harry up and down, and you rolled your eyes, knowing he wouldn’t do anything to potential customers. He walked away and you breathed out a chuckle, scratching your head. 

“Sorry about that. You two are interested in joining?” You asked the two men in front of you. They were rather…attractive, you noticed. The one on the left was gorgeous with beautiful brown skin that looked so smooth. He was wearing a pair of red short-shorts and a white muscle tee. You noticed that he was wearing a wedding ring, so you averted your eyes off of him. The man next to him, however, was absolutely stunning. His left arm carried a sleeve-full of tattoos, and you wanted so badly to examine and look at every single one. With chocolate brown curls, his green eyes had a tad bit of a glimmer to them, not too much though, because if you were being honest, they were a bit dull, like he was exhausted and needed to let off some of the stress that he held based on how tense he looked. 

You tried not to observe and think about it too much as your ability to read individuals thrived while meeting new people. You shook it off the thought, not wanting to assume things about their lives and seem too creepy in front of new and potential members. 

“Yeah, we are. I’m Benny, by the way.” He shook your hand, smiling. 

“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N. I run this place.” You offered the same smile back. Your eyes looked over at his friend, and he gave you a soft smile. “Y/N,” you repeated, taking your hand out for him to shake. 

“I’m Harry. Harry Styles,” he introduced fully. A beautiful name for a beautiful man, you thought. He shook your hand as you felt the softness of his skin mixed with a tad bit of roughness from the callouses, probably from heavy-lifting. 

Something about Harry introducing his full name had made you a bit weak in the knees. His deep and accented voice had made you a bit flustered as chills ran up your body. You’re acting like a fool, your subconscious told you. You were never one to show your obvious attraction for men, you were more into watching them from the side. But once Harry walked in, it seemed like you didn’t know how to keep your chill. 

“Perfect. Nice to meet you both. Signing up shouldn’t be too long—don’t want to keep you two from working out.” You led the two men to one of the offices, knocking on the wooden door to greet Jamie. “Hi. These two are looking to sign up. Do you mind helping them out?” 

“Of course! Come on in, guys,” Jamie greeted them, offering them to take a seat along with some water, which they both said yes to. 

“I have to get back to my session, but you both are in great hands. Jamie is one of our best,” you told the two. You sent an innocent wink at Jamie, which he sent one back while Harry watched the entire interaction, feeling uneasy. 

It was quite obvious how attractive and pretty you were. The moment he first saw you, his breath had immediately hitched in his throat. You had the most gorgeous face he’d ever seen, and when you spoke, your voice was soft and gentle, making Harry a bit more safe in a place he’s new to. 

Jamie had gotten their details and credit card information down before asking them if they needed a tour of the place. They both had said no, seeing as things were pretty self-explanatory and they’d been to a boxing gym before. 

They headed out of Jamie’s office and to the main floor, walking over to the heavy bags since the section was less crowded to start stretching. Harry rolled his shoulders and neck around, swinging his arms forwards and backward as he looked around the gym. 

This was something he had to get used to—being in a new place, surrounded by new people. At Fight Night, he was around the same people for four years, and he was comfortable — he was fine with it. But now, he had to go through the same process all over again. Nerves and anxiety crept up his skin as he tried to jump around lightly, warming up a bit but also trying to shake off the unwanted feelings. 

“Hey, you okay?” Benny asked concerningly as he stretched. 

Harry’s brows raised, covering up his anxiousness. “Hmm, yeah, I am. Y’know, just a, uh, new place, that’s all,” he brushed him off. 

“Okay. Well, whenever you’re ready to go, just tell me,” Benny told him before going into his bag to grab the wrapping tape. 

Harry nodded, smiling in appreciation. Benny had always been a great friend to him, and Harry was a great friend to Benny as well. They always took each other’s feelings and concerns into consideration—always making sure the other is okay. They both really appreciated it because some friends weren’t lucky enough to talk about their feelings and be that vulnerable with one another. They trusted each other; they were like brothers. 

Harry grabbed his jump rope, deciding to do a little five-minute warm-up to get his heart rate going. He faced the boxing ring to the left of him, noticing that you were in the ring, so he decided to casually watch you box. He then noticed that you had boxing pads on instead of gloves, and the people you were training were the kids that he had seen earlier. 

He watched you instruct the excited kids who were prancing around with their boxing gloves on, in every color imagined. You helped them fix their form, their stance, and their punch; telling them that they had to be quick with their hit to bring their glove back to the side of their face quickly, so their opponent doesn’t have a chance to take a hit. The kids demonstrated for you, punching your right hand that was covered with the pad. You praised all of them, of course, correcting a few things, but overall, everyone was a natural fighter. 

Harry’s heart rate definitely started to pick up, and he didn’t know if it was how fast he was jumping rope or because of the flutter he felt as he watched you interact with the kids. He truly never felt this kind of feeling where his heart picked up from the simple act of looking at someone. 

You had definitely noticed Harry staring at you from your peripheral view, and you had thought it was a simple glance, but he never looked away. So, you took the opportunity to take a quick look at him while the kids were practicing. 

Your eyes met him and you sent him a small smile, along with a wave with your boxing pads. Harry’s eyes widened, realizing that you were waving at him, and what happened next had embarrassed him even more. With how fast he was jumping, he suddenly got tangled with the rope, causing him to trip against it. Luckily, he caught his fall, but he was already embarrassed enough. 

Harry’s heart completely dropped, cheeks flushed. He couldn’t believe he had made a complete fool of himself, especially at his new gym. He so badly wanted to tell Benny that he was ready to leave, but when he looked over at his friend, he had already started his workout, being so focused and in the zone that Harry didn’t want to be a burden. 

When he turned back around to see if you were still looking, he jolted back a bit as you were behind him. 

“Are you okay?” You asked concerningly. 

“Uh, yeah. I…yeah, I’m okay. Thanks.” He cleared his throat, trying to cover up the fact that his voice almost cracked. He was so stunned by you. The way you made sure he was okay was possibly the nicest thing someone had done for him as you looked at him with your sweet eyes, and your posture was giving him your full attention. His heart pounded through his chest; the simple action and effort that was being put into this was making him overwhelmed. 

“Okay. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?” You told him as you looked at him intently. He simply nodded, knowing that he couldn’t process any more words. 

You gave him one last smile before quickly going back to your students. He watched you climb into the ring so effortlessly before continuing your training class. 

Harry took a deep breath before walking over to one of the speed bags that was in the corner, hoping to hide away from the embarrassment that he felt. Wrapping his hands up, he anxiously scanned the room, noticing that everyone was doing their own thing. There was a possibility that no one else had seen him almost fall on his face, except you, which he really wished that it was the entire gym who saw him instead, not you. He lazily hit the speed bag, trying to warm up and shake off his mortification. Harry continued hitting the bag, eventually getting into a rhythm as his fists alternated between one another, along with the rhythm of the music of Montrell Jordan’s ‘This Is How We Do It.’ 

Soon enough, all the worry and stress that was in Harry’s head and body was shaken off and completely forgotten about as he focused on his strong punches, making sure to connect his mind to his muscles, so he could feel his muscles working. 

And for the time being, life wasn’t all that bad. 

A month had passed since being at Don’s Box, and Harry and Benny quite liked it. They had newer equipment and their music was always on point, playing the best of 90s R&B and Hip-Hop. It was their favorite music to listen to, especially while working out. The people there were nice and cool, never getting in each other’s way and letting everyone do their own thing while still having fun, keeping the space safe and comfortable. 

Harry found himself walking into the gym at nine at night, an hour and a half before it closed. Usually, he wouldn’t work out this late, but during the day, he had felt so unmotivated and lazy to even get out of bed. He could put the blame on Lizette because she had gone to his house the night prior, doing the same thing they always do, but he knew she wasn’t the one to blame. Something about saying no to her and having her not talk to him had physically pained him. They were in a specific arrangement, he knew that. But having someone leave him again was something he couldn’t go through. 

‘What’s Luv?’ by Fat Joe, Ja Rule, and Ashanti was playing when he set his bag down onto the ground against the wall, next to the heavy bag. He started to stretch as he took a look around; not many people were working out at this time, which he liked. 

His eyes continued to search the gym, in hopes he would find you still here. Before the slightest bit of disappointment could settle, he saw you walk out of the hallway with Jamie, smiling and laughing at something he had said. He made a face as a hint of jealousy rushed through as he saw you with Jamie. He knew that there was no point in being jealous because he barely even knew you. But for the past month that he’s been at Don’s Box, you always had this look of excitement on your face when you saw and greeted Harry. It made his stomach flutter every time you would flash him your beautiful smile as you would carry the conversation, asking him about his day and if the music was good, which he commends you for putting his favorite songs on. 

Looking away, he decided to just focus on the quick workout he could get in before the gym closed, so he retained his attention back to stretching before bending down to grab the tape from his bag to wrap his hands. 

“Uh, hi, Harry,” you smiled as you greeted him. He looked up at you. The way the light was positioned behind your head made you look like an actual angel; you were ethereal. 

He stood up and smiled softly. “Hi. How are you?” He asked, trying to contain his nerves from just looking at you. You were gorgeous, as you always are every day. You were wearing a pair of black leggings and a light pink t-shirt that was tied into a knot with the word ‘angel’ that was surrounded by wings printed in the middle. Kind of a coincidence, he thought, thinking back to when he called you an angel in his head. 

“Good, good. You’re here later than usual—without Benny too,” you pointed out, but immediately cursed at yourself for making such an odd observation and telling it to his face as if you were keeping track of the times he’s gone into the gym. 

“Yeah, I was pretty…tired during the day, so the only time I got a burst of energy was right now. And Benny is with his wife and in-laws tonight, so it’s just me tonight,” he explained with a soft chuckle. 

“Well, glad you got the chance to make it in,” you said genuinely. He simply nodded, not knowing what else to say but instead he captured himself into you as you stared at him with your captivating eyes that spoke right through him. What was happening to him? He thought. This hadn’t really happened before, and he was good at letting his walls go up and guarding his precious heart. 

“Hey, I’m gonna head out,” Jamie said, greeting you goodbye, and taking Harry out of his thoughts. “Hey, man. Have a good workout.” He shook Harry’s hand, and Harry smiled, nodding. 

“See you tomorrow,” you told Jamie, smiling a bit as you waved. Jamie left the gym, and it was just you and Harry, along with a few other people who were wrapping up their workout. 

“Are you not gonna go with him?” Harry asked, and you raised your brows in confusion. 

“Why would I go with him?” You wondered. 

“Oh, I just thought you would leave with him, y’know, your boyfriend…” he trailed off, slyly slipping in the word boyfriend in that sentence. 

You giggled, shaking your head. “No, no. Jamie isn't my boyfriend. I’ve known him since I was ten, but nothing’s ever happened between us. Besides, he has a boyfriend of his own.” Harry raised his brows in shock as his shoulders visibly relaxed. “No need to worry, Harry. I’m all yours,” you flirted a bit. You normally wouldn’t flirt so easily with someone, especially if they were a member of your gym, but something about Harry had made you release all the stress you had once you saw and talked to him. 

Harry blushed, grinning as his dimple popped out on his cheek. Your eyes lightened once you noticed that feature, making you think that he was ten times cuter than he already is. 

“You’ve been in the ring, right?” You asked curiously. Harry nodded, and the corner of your lips turned up. “Great! We have about a little less than an hour and a half, so if you’re looking for some intense cardio, I could do it with you—y’know, train you and guide you, and whatnot,” you suggested. 

If Harry’s being honest, he wasn’t planning on doing cardio today—just a few routines to get his muscles warm, but the way you’re looking at him and how you spoke to him so softly and effortlessly, he couldn’t say no. 

“Yeah, I’m up for it,” he responded. Your eye brightened, resisting the urge to squeal from excitement, telling him that you were going to get the mitts and to meet you in the ring. He chuckled slightly as you walked over to the equipment room to get the mitts. Harry quickly hit the speed bag to warm up until he saw you walk out of the room. 

He put on his gray sweater and a green packers beanie, so he could sweat more before he met you in the ring with his gloves pressed between his arm and the side of his body. You put the mitts in between your legs as Harry handed you one of the gloves. Holding onto the end of it, he put his hand inside as you pushed the glove towards him, so it would sit on his hand tightly before strapping it securely for him before proceeding to the next one. The proximity between you two was quite close as you helped him put on the gloves, and you could smell the faint scent of cologne mixed with the slightest bit of sweat, giving him that unique musk; the one that doesn’t smell horrible at all but lured you in. 

You quickly snapped out of your thoughts and looked up at Harry. “Good?” He nodded, punching the gloves together to make sure they felt comfortable. “Ready?” 

“Let’s do this,” Harry said, skipping in place to warm his body up before getting into his stance. His left leg was a few feet away from his right leg as he bounced around a bit, waiting for you. 

You faintly smirked, nodding your head before you put on the mitts. Since Harry was very familiar with the mitt workouts, you figured that you didn’t need to explain what each number represented since mostly all trainers and coaches use the same numbers for the same punch. 

“Okay, let’s warm up a bit. Give me one,” you instructed. Harry put his gloves up to protect his face as you held your right mitt up. With his left hand, he punched your mitt, not giving his full strength. “Is that all you got?” You challenged, knowing that he had more power in him. 

“I-I don’t want to hurt you,” he said honestly with a small pout, standing straight from his boxing stance. Usually, you would take offense to that statement, barking back a comment saying that just because you were a girl it didn’t mean you couldn’t take a hit, but you didn’t go that far into it, knowing Harry didn’t mean it that way whatsoever. 

“You’re not gonna hurt me, Harry. I’ve trained so many people—all with different body types and strengths. My hand has felt all different types of power, so hit the mitt like you mean it.” You hit his shoulder, building up his motivation. He nodded, getting back into his stance as did you. “Now, give me one.” 

This time, Harry’s glove met your mitt with full potential and force, and you took the hit well—not moving back or being stunned. 

“There you go! Keep going,” you told him, and he continued giving you jabs. ‘In Da Club’ by 50 Cent was blaring through the speakers as Harry breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth. Several huffs of breath came out loudly as he punched, moving and dancing around the ring with you as the two of you occasionally shifted and switched positions. 

Harry got in a few more punches before you switched it up, telling him, “1-2.” Harry jabbed with his left hand and crossed jabbed with his right hand, putting his full range of motion into his right punch. He did that combination five times as he started to feel sweat dripping down his back and the sides of his forehead. 

You were yelling out words of encouragement and motivation, praising him for his punches, to which he responded back with a better and solid punch to your mitts. 

“Nice!” You took a step back to move around the ring to take advantage of the space as Harry jumped and skipped around to wherever you directed him to. “Wanna take a break?” You asked. He shook his head no, determined to finish this workout that he couldn’t even think about wanting to take a break because he really didn’t want to. “Okay, 1-4-3,” you told him. With force, he jabbed, hooked with his left hand, and hooked with his right hand. 

This feeling that he had felt—being in the ring with you—was something entirely different than when he was in the ring with Henson or Mike. The stress that he physically carried onto his shoulder had washed away into nothingness, leaving him with a drive that didn’t include overthinking and fear. The fear that had left him worried and depressed, that his life would amount to nothing—that fear disappeared inside him once he threw the first punch. It was exhilarating and fun, and he didn’t know he could have this much fun in the ring. But this was the most pleasure he’s ever felt while boxing. 

You ordered him to do some different combinations, such as ‘1-2-3-5,’ which was a jab, cross jab, leading hook, and rear uppercut. You also included moments when he had to duck because you were swinging at him. He definitely had gotten into a rhythm, punching and moving faster. You were the trainer, the person that was supposed to instruct him, but you matched his rhythm and energy and moved quicker with him as well. 

You were starting to get a sweat in as well, and that was mostly because of the adrenaline rushing through your blood as you moved excitedly around the ring. 

After a while, a timer had gone off, telling you that it was time to close up as Harry’s focus was cut off—the sound making him look up hastily. Throughout the time you were working out with Harry, people were slowly starting to make their way out, but the two of you were too focused on working out that you hadn’t even noticed that it was just the two of you left in the gym. 

“Oh, guess we’re closing.” You stood up straighter, wiping the sweat on your forehead with your forearm. “Feelin’ good?” You asked Harry with a proud smile. 

“Feelin’ great,” he smirked. 

“Good, I’m glad. You did great!” You complimented, ripping the velcro strap with your teeth as you took off the mitts. Harry did the same, shaking out his arms as he clenched and unclenched his fists to relieve the ache from making a fist for more than an hour. 

“Thank you. You’re a really great trainer, by the way. This was…the first time I had fun in the ring,” he told you honestly, and without knowing, the slightest bit of him had opened up to you. 

Your eyes brightened, a glimpse of shimmer reflected on your eyes. “Really? Thank you, that makes me really happy, actually.” You felt like you were going to cry on the spot. No one, except your younger students, had ever told you that they had fun in the ring since most people used boxing as a way to get stronger and improve their punches. But fun? That was the first, and you would definitely keep that with you forever. 

You and Harry walked to one end of the ring as Harry held open the top two ropes with his hand as he stepped on the bottom two ropes with his foot, holding it open for you to get out. You blushed, thanking him before you got out of the ring as he followed you out. 

Once you two were on the ground, you turned around to face him. You watched as he took off his beanie, shaking his hair out as they bounced; curls were now formed into waves because of the heat and the sweat that had produced in his beanie. He looked…extra good right now. With his cheeks flushed, hair messy, and sweat dripping down his forehead, you couldn’t put into words how incredibly sexy he looked. 

You cleared your throat, not wanting to get caught for ogling him. “I, uh, have to check on some things before closing. Take your time! And I’ll see you on Monday?” You raised your brows and curled your lips in as you looked up at him. A sense of flustered-ness settled in you as you waited for his answer. 

He breathed out a chuckle as he looked down briefly before looking back into your eyes again. “Yeah, I’ll see you.” You nodded your head, waving at him before you headed over to the office. Harry smiled as he watched you walk into the hallway until he couldn’t see you anymore. 

A small blush formed onto his cheeks as he contained himself from smiling too big and too wide. He put all of his stuff back into his bag, grabbing his towel, ridding the sweat off his skin. Grabbing his belongings, he took another glance at the hallway, hoping to get another look at you before he took off, but you were occupied with closing the gym, so he didn’t bother staying any longer. 

With a small smile on his face, he walked out of the gym, taking in this new profound feeling that he’d never felt before, hoping this feeling would last. 

The next morning, Harry had a sudden urge to go back to the gym. His upper body was quite sore, but he figured he could do some leg exercises to balance the soreness he felt. He normally wouldn’t workout on the weekends since those were his rest days, but despite being sore, he didn’t feel tired. It could also do with the fact that he wanted to see you again, not wanting to wait until Monday to do that again. 

When he walked into the gym, ‘Ride Wit Me’ by Nelly was playing and his head slightly bopped to the music, walking over to the corner of the gym to warm up. He scanned the gym, looking for a particular person, but couldn’t find you. There were a decent amount of people, not too crowded or too little, so it should’ve been easy to find you. Thinking that you were probably in your office, he shook off the slight disappointment and got ready to workout. 

Throughout his workout, his head wasn’t in it. He kept glancing through the mirror to see if you had shown up, but you hadn’t. His eyes were always looking over at the front door every time someone would walk in, but a small frown settled onto his face when he realized it wasn’t you. 

He wrapped up his workout an hour later, thinking that he somewhat still got a good workout in. He walked out of the gym, saying bye to some of the guys that had caught him before he left. 

It was nearing noon when his stomach had growled, urging him to consume some food. There was a Mediterranean hole-in-the-wall restaurant right across Don’s Box, and his mouth watered at the thought of it. He walked to his car that was parked on the side of the street to drop his bag off before walking across the street to the restaurant. 

He scanned the menu, standing on the side since he didn’t know what he was ordering yet. The sound of the door ringing and a voice that was speaking to him brought him out of his thoughts. 

“Are you in line?” Harry turned his head towards the voice, and his heart nearly beating ten times faster when he saw you. He had a shocked expression on his face, not expecting to see you, especially when you were wearing the complete opposite of what he normally sees you in. You were wearing a pair of blue denim overalls with a black t-shirt underneath, along with white Reebok sneakers. You had a bit of makeup on; an orange sparkly eyeshadow look with some mascara that made your eyelashes look full and natural. Your lips were painted in a red-orange lipstick stain, bringing out more of your natural lip color. 

The beauty that Harry’s eyes were blessed with made his knees weak, sending shivers to his skin. Your angelic appearance had struck him so hard that he was sure he would see the light of day, hoping to meet you up there since you were a real-life angel. 

“Y/N…hi,” he managed to spit out. 

“Hi, Harry. Did you just workout?” You asked. 

He nodded, feeling a bit nervous. “Uh, yeah, I did.” 

“You don’t usually go in on Saturdays…” you noticed, only seeing him during the weekdays. You’re off on Saturdays, but there was one Saturday that you had gone into the gym briefly, and you didn’t see him there. 

“Yeah, I felt like going in today,” he said, obviously leaving out the part that he only went to the gym to see you again, but you didn’t need to know that bit. There was a moment of silence between you two until Harry remembered that he was probably holding up the line for you. “Oh, you could go ahead. I’m not ready to order yet.” 

You smiled, nodding your head as you stepped forward in the line. “Have you ever been here before?” 

“No, I haven’t. Do you have any suggestions?” 

You slightly squinted your eyes at him. “Do you trust me?” You asked. 

That was a difficult question for him, and somewhat vague. Did you mean overall, at the moment, or for his food order? Either way, he nodded because he knew that it didn’t matter what you meant--he had this sense of security with you that he would trust you with his life, and that said a lot, considering that he’d only known you for a month. 

“Yeah, I do trust you,” he stated honestly. 

His words brought a grin to your face, looking at him appreciatively. Based on your observations of him, you noticed that he was a bit closed off; he didn’t open himself up, and if he did, it took a lot in him to do just that. So, hearing him tell you that he trusts you made you grateful, and you would never do anything to take advantage of that trust because he didn’t just give it out easily. 

“I got you,” you simply said before turning back around towards the cashier. Harry softly smirked as he took a step forward to stand next to you. You looked at him, flashing him a toothy grin before quickly facing forward. 

You ordered your favorite dish from the restaurant, which was a beef kabab plate, for the both of you. Harry quickly got his wallet out, offering to pay, but you told him that you got it this time, hoping your words conveyed that you wanted there to be a next time. He shyly thanked you for the lunch, keeping your words in mind because he would definitely be up for a ‘next time.’ 

Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long for your order to come out, which was fortunate for Harry because he was starving. You suggested eating outside since it was a beautiful day out and Harry agreed, following you out of the restaurant. 

You two sat on the metal chairs, digging into your dishes. Harry’s mouth watered as he ate, his stomach being satisfied. There was a comfortable silence that settled between you two, only making small conversation when you asked if he liked the food, which you were glad to hear that he loved. 

“So, how long have you been running Don’s Box?” He suddenly asked, wanting to get to know you better. 

You raised your brows at his question. “For about two years now. My father, Don, opened the gym when he was twenty-five, that’s when he had me as well. But when he opened the gym, it practically changed his life. He’d boxed all of his life, and he was happy training other people when he started getting more people to come into his gym. When I was about six, he told me that he wanted me to run the gym when I turned twenty-five, only if I wanted to. But of course, I did. I looked up to him all of my life, and the gym made me happy as well,” you explained, smiling at the memory of when you were younger, being excited to turn twenty-five to do the same thing your father did. 

A soft smile appeared on Harry’s face as you reminisce on the memory. 

“How long have you been boxing?” 

“Since I was eight. Don showed me the ropes when I told him I was ready. There used to be a seating area on the side of the ring because when I was younger, I used to sit there and watch him work and train people. So, I was pretty interested and intrigued about fighting to get myself stronger, even at the young age of eight,” you chuckled. 

You were a daddy’s girl, always had been since you were born. Don had always set a pretty amazing example of how you should go about living your life. He would always say ‘Live your life with a strong punch. Keep your head up, and don’t let anything get to you because you’re so much more than what other people say. But if you need to cry, you can—there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.’ 

As your eyes watered from the thought of your father’s words, Harry watched as you got emotional and he couldn’t help but think that you’ve crossed a line in asking too many questions. 

“Sorry, I always get emotional-”

“I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped—I should’ve kept the questions to myself-”

“Oh, no! You didn’t overstep whatsoever. I’m glad you asked me those questions, I just get soft and emotional over my dad, so hence, I’m tearing up,” you let out a somewhat pathetic chuckle as you couldn’t believe that you almost cried in front of this gorgeous man. You dabbed the corners of your eyes with your napkin, stopping the tears from falling out. 

Harry nodded understandingly, waiting for you to regroup yourself. You kept apologizing, but he kept telling you that you had nothing to be sorry for. 

“Really, if you need to cry, you can…” he told you. Your eyes widened; you were just thinking about your dad’s words two minutes ago, and for Harry to say the exact same thing Don had always told you without even knowing that Don had said those words. 

Not wanting to cry in front of him, you simply nodded your head, holding the napkin on the outer corner of your eye, so the napkin would catch your tears. 

Harry quickly changed the subject, sensing that you needed it, and you really did, so you were grateful for that. He busied himself by telling you what his favorite ice cream flavor was since he was suddenly reminded that there was a shop just down the street. He kept you occupied by talking about all the sweet treats that he used to eat with his mom back home, and how much he missed walking down the streets in the city to eat some ice cream. 

“My mum used to make this really great chocolate mousse pie, and we would eat it every weekend. It was extremely sweet, but it was delicious. I really miss it…” he told you. That had been a while ago, but it was like he could still taste the dessert as if he just ate it yesterday. 

“Is your mom back home in England?” You asked, figuring that there wasn’t any harm in asking to get to know him since he asked you some questions as well. 

“Uh…actually, I don’t know where she is…” he said honestly, and you knitted your brows in confusion. “I mean, honestly. I don’t know where she is. Ever since I went to uni, she’s been all over the place, taking vacations and barely calling. I-I feel like she’s forgotten about me,” he spoke ever so softly as he was fragile. 

You listened to him intently, giving him your full attention as he was opening up a part of his life that you knew he doesn’t tell a lot of people. A part of him that he’s kept in for so long and just the passing sense of relief he felt saying those words and speaking up about this subject had made him feel so much better. 

“I’m sure she didn’t forget about you.” 

“Seemed like it. We inherited my grandfather’s will—left us a generous amount for each of us that’ll take care of us for the rest of our lives. And she took that and ran with it. I mean, I get it—she wants to live her life, and now’s the time to do that because she’s got the money for it, but I feel…abandoned. She got up, said goodbye, and just…left. It just makes me think that I’m not good enough—that I wasn’t good enough to stay.” Harry opened a can of worms that he can’t take back anymore. But the trust that he had in you already made him want to talk about everything with you; to open up about all of his stresses and insecurities. 

Boldly, you reached your arm across the table but immediately pulled away because you didn’t want to touch him without asking. But before you could open your mouth and ask, Harry had reached forward, meeting your hand halfway as his palm was facing up as if it was a way of saying ‘you can hold my hand if you want.’ Blushing, you reached forward again and took your hand into his. 

The touch was sweet and tender as you two held hands; the want to hold each other tighter was present, wanting to take away Harry’s pain. 

“Harry, you will always be good enough. I know we just met a month ago, but I already know that you’re the sweetest, kindest person. Please know that. You are enough, and I’m grateful that you’re here and that I’m sitting across from you, eating lunch,” you declared. Harry sniffled, not knowing what to say as he put his head down, so you continued. “For as long as we’re friends, I’m gonna stay.” You spoke with complete honesty as you caressed the back of his hand with your thumb. 

Harry’s head lifted up at your last statement in disbelief as if this was the first time someone had ever said that to him. 

“Really?” 

You squeezed his hand, making his heart flutter. “Yeah. As long as you want me to,” you reassured, nodding. 

Harry gave you a soft and appreciating smile as he took a deep breath. The breath that he held in throughout the entirety of the conversation was finally let out in relief. He shrunk back into his seat, still holding your hand as you continued rubbing it, and he breathed out a chuckle. It was an overwhelming feeling that was riddled with happiness and a sense of security washed over him. 

It was like he had been waiting for you; someone new that unexpectedly came into his life was scary because it was change, but it was a good change. A change for the better. He had been vulnerable enough to open himself up, and it all led to the tight bond and trust you two had with one another, sealing your friendship and relationship. 

And you both knew this moment was going to change everything. 

Time had passed by rather quickly as it was nearing the end of October. The weather was getting chillier as the sun was beginning to disappear behind the clouds earlier. There was something about the fall weather that Harry adored. It may have to do with the fact that the gloomy sky had occurred more often, or how he got to call it a night early. Whatever it may be, he liked it, or he used to. 

In recent times, he wanted the sun to stay out until it was time to go to bed. He wanted warm days instead of gloomy. His new changed attitude towards life had to do with you. 

You and Harry had been hanging out quite a lot; getting to know one another, getting a bite or drink, and working out together, it definitely gave Harry the chance to let go of his past. He was happier, smiled more, and laughed a lot which he didn’t know he was capable of doing those things again until he met you. 

Benny loved it, though. He sure cherished it because seeing his best friend happy again was something he was afraid he wouldn’t see again. But that didn’t stop him from having a little talk with you, trying to protect Harry and set you straight. 

When Harry was occupied with hitting the speed bag, Benny walked over to the ring, where you had just finished another class with your younger students. 

“Hey, Benny!” You greeted him once you saw him walk towards you. 

“Hey, do you mind chatting for a minute?” You raised your brows, nodding your head. Benny usually didn’t talk to you privately nor was it anything serious, but by the look on his face, it seemed pretty serious. “So, you’ve been hanging out with Harry a lot, hmm?” 

You smiled softly. “Yeah! Hope you don’t mind that? Know I’m taking your best friend and all…” 

“No, I don’t mind. I’m actually glad you are. He seems quite taken by you, and I haven’t seen him like that in a very long time,” Benny said honestly. You seemed to know where this conversation was going now, and now that you thought about it, you expected this from Benny because they were like brothers and Benny would do anything to protect Harry. “What I’m trying to say is…if you’re only hanging out with him to fuck with him, don’t bother. He’s been through enough, and I know he can’t handle anymore of that and I can’t stand to see him like that again.” 

“Like what?” You hesitatingly asked. 

“Like…just know that he was a mess. He couldn’t get up, eat, drink, shower, or anything. I had to physically help him. I don’t want to see him like that ever again.” Benny shook his head as if he was reliving the horrible nightmare that he went through a few years ago. 

“Is this about his mom?” 

“He told you that?” He asked, just to make sure, and you nodded. “Kind of. But that’s only half of it. He’ll tell you when he’s ready, but I’ve already said too much. Just…take care of him, okay? He tries to act tough sometimes, but he’s trying his best to not break down. Although, I haven’t seen that kind of look on him since he’s been hanging out with you, so you’re probably doing something right.” 

You nodded understandingly. “Thanks for talking to me. I don’t plan on breaking his heart at all, and I’m quite taken with him myself,” you admitted. 

“Good. I’m glad you are. He’s a great guy.” Benny smiled, and you agreed. 

Benny didn’t talk to you for much longer before he started getting cold from standing around, so he ended the conversation and went back to working out. 

Meanwhile, as you and Benny were talking, Don took the chance himself to talk to Harry, seeing as you were occupied. 

“Harry.” Don made himself present around him. 

Harry immediately stopped his workout, greeting your father. “What’s up, Don?” 

“So, I’ve noticed that you’ve been hanging around Y/N a lot.” Don’s stance changed as he crossed his arms, sporting a slight frown. Harry gulped; he always found Don to be quite intimidating, ever since he joined the gym, but Harry didn’t want to seem like he couldn’t have a serious conversation with the father of the woman that he’s slowly falling for--no, he couldn’t act like that. “What’s that all about?” Don added. 

“I’m just…we’re friends, so we’re just hanging out. Nothing more,” he told Don honestly. Although he would like there to be more, he didn’t know how you felt about him or if you even felt anything for him at all. 

Don nodded. He could tell that Harry was holding back on something he wanted to say, and he had an idea of what that was. So, he let loose of the intimidating and protective act, knowing that wasn’t really him anyway, and his expression softened as he uncrossed his arms. He placed a comforting hand on Harry’s shoulder, taking a deep breath. 

“You have this look of wanting to say more and you don’t have to tell me, but I will tell you this…if you want to date her and go out with her, you can. This isn’t approval and a ‘yes’ for you to take her out because I don’t need to do that--she can make her own decisions. All I’m saying is that if you want to, go for it. Life is too fuckin’ short to not do anything, to not say anything.” 

Harry’s shoulders relaxed and he smiled in appreciation at Don’s words. “Thanks, Don. I definitely want to take her out, but I just don’t know how she feels about me.” 

“Oh, I’m pretty sure she feels something for you--she hasn’t told me, but I just know. You’re the first guy in a while that she’s been hanging around with consistently, and that comforts me, in a way. Knowing that she’s living her life and not holding back anymore.” Harry stayed silent, taking his words in. He tried not to overanalyze what Don had said because you’ll tell him and open up to him when you want to, just like how you’re patiently waiting for Harry to open up fully as well. “Just…don’t break her heart, okay? She’s been through enough and I just want her to be happy.” 

Harry nodded understandingly, saying a soft ‘okay’ before Don changed the subject and talked about how  Harry should train with him one of these days, which Harry immediately said yes to and they planned for the following week to train. Don left him to finish his workout, telling him to have a nice night as you and Harry were going out to dinner. 

Benny and Harry finished up their workout, and before they were able to head out the front door, Harry stopped, telling Benny to give him a minute. Harry fast-walked towards you, lugging his bag on his shoulder. You were coming out of your office, which was why Harry couldn’t say goodbye to you after his workout. 

“Hey, we’re heading out,” he said, wiping the bit of sweat on the back of his neck with his towel. 

“Oh, okay. I’ll see you later?” 

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up,” Harry suggested, pursing his lips into his mouth as he contained his smile. You nodded, eyes sparkling as you looked up at him. “I’ll, uh, page you,” he slightly smirked. 

“Okay,” you mindlessly responded as you were getting quite lost in his green eyes that looked at you intently with a gleam that sat so perfectly against his irises, making his eyes glimmer brightly.

He gave you one last smile and a little wave before walking out of the gym with Benny. You were left stunned as you stood there, completely drifted away from reality as you were in a dream about Harry. You felt a small nudge on your shoulder, causing you to snap out of your thoughts and dream as you turned around to see your father laughing. 

“Get back to work.” A smug plastered on his face. 

A breathy chuckle was released from your mouth as a hint of embarrassment emerged onto your face with wide eyes. You got back to work, focusing your attention on training your next client, but your mind was racing at the thought of Harry. 

As he promised, Harry paged you when he was outside of your apartment complex. He wanted to knock on your door like the proper gentleman that he is, but the buzzer machine to let people in wasn’t working, so paging you would have to do for now. He waited for you outside of his newly washed car, making sure it was nice and clean for you as he leaned against the passenger door. 

You walked out of your building, and Harry was immediately blown away. You were wearing a black skirt with stockings that hugged your legs, and a white knitted sweater since it was on the chillier side. 

Every time he saw you, his heart would beat incredibly fast, pulse pounding through his veins. His stomach was in flits of butterflies, soaring in his heart and stomach, making him extremely nervous. Every time he saw you, everything would stop, like you were the only person in the world and everything was okay. 

“Hey, H,” you flashed him your smile, one that he looked forward to every time he saw you. 

“H-Hi,” he stuttered, clearing his throat to start over. “Hi. You look really nice.” 

You blushed. “Thank you! You look great as well. Love this top.” You reached forward, lightly tugging at his red-orange knitted long-sleeve. He paired it with blue jeans that flared at the bottom with white sneakers. His fingers were covered in beautiful silver rings, making his hands look quite gorgeous. 

“Thank you, shall we?” 

“Yeah, oh, I got you something.” You reached into your bag to take out the cased CD, and before Harry was about to protest, you handed it to him. “I made you this mixtape. Just some songs that I think you’ll like—I’m sure you know all of them, but they just made me think of you,” you said shyly. 

You weren’t normally shy and you would call yourself a pretty strong and confident person, but you had been so nervous to give this to him—even making the tape left you anxious and shaking. 

“Wow, this is…very thoughtful of you. Thank you so much.” Harry looked at the CD with the songs written in your handwriting. There were 10 songs, and Harry knew all of them. They were all…romantic songs. 

“That’s not weird, right? Y’know, making you a mixtape?” You asked unsurely. The odd feeling had popped into your mind at the last second as you watched Harry observe the CD, not giving a bad nor good reaction to your gift. 

“No, not at all! I really appreciate this. No one has ever made a mixtape for me before, so this is really nice and special. Thank you again.” He reached forward, wrapping one arm around your shoulders as both of your arms found their way around his waist. You somewhat weren’t convinced that he liked it, and he could tell just by how you were looking at him--looking for some more reassurance--that it seemed like he didn’t like it. When he pulled away, he looked at you before saying, “Really, it makes me happy that you took the time to make this for me. It’s so sweet and thoughtful of you, and I already love all the songs on here, so I’m one-hundred-percent going to enjoy this.” 

You nodded, smiling softly as he opened the door for you and you thanked him, blushing as you got in. It seemed very much like a date and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of that. 

Harry drove to the sandwich shop that waited for you both. It was twenty minutes away on the other side of the town, but Harry had been raving about it so much to you that you told him that you two should go, which Harry was more than happy to take you. 

The sound of Boyz II Men filled the speakers of Harry’s car as the two of you sang your hearts out to ‘On Bended Knees,’ putting full emotion and passion into singing. You held up your water bottle, pretending that it was a microphone, and Harry kept shifting his gaze on you, trying to keep his eyes on the road, but also wanting to look at you as you sang. He smiled to himself, absolutely loving how you were so carefree--something that he admired about you. 

His heart fluttered, curling his lips into his mouth before he did something that was quite bold of him to do. Reaching over, he grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers together. Your body was frozen, but you continued to sing, covering up the fact that Harry was holding your hand so casually. You were stiff as a board, so you tried loosening up, swaying your body from side to side, slightly averting your eyes towards him as he continued to drive. 

The moonlight cast through the car window, giving him a dim glow, accentuating his features; jawline prominent, his lashes shadowed down onto his cheeks, and his eyes were calm; the light reflecting against his glassy green eyes. Your heartbeat a million miles a minute as you looked at him. You had this appreciation and admiration for him--that you were lucky and grateful that you have him and that there was nothing more beautiful than the man sitting beside you. 

With your face on fire, you smiled as you carried on, singing with the warmth of Harry’s hand connected with yours. 

You were sitting across Harry, munching on your sandwich as you listened to him talk about how he wanted to actually find a job. He’s been sitting around, living quite wealthy as his inheritance sat safely. But he’d been getting bored. Every day was a routine for him and it was a pretty boring routine, he would say. The only places he really went to were the gym and the places that the two of you went together, but that was it. He needed a hobby, something that he could escape to that doesn’t require breaking a sweat from punching bags and mitts. 

“You said you like books, so maybe you could see if the bookstore down the street from the gym is hiring. That would be a nice little place to work at,” you suggested. 

Harry’s eyes lightened up, apart from thinking that was a great idea and the other part from being surprised that you remembered such a small detail about him when he’d talked about books briefly with you. 

“I should definitely do that, thank you. I love that bookstore, it’s-”

“Y/N?” Harry was interrupted by a man who had walked over to your table. Harry looked up, observing the guy as he was looking at you so intently. He quickly looked at you as you were looking up at the man with a shocked expression on your face, wide eyes and mouth slightly opened. 

“Uh, hi,” you said, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Your eyes glanced at Harry and he had a worried expression on his face, eyes asking if you were okay. You nodded softly, bringing your attention back to him. 

“I-I’ve been calling the gym and paging you, but you haven’t been answering any of them…” the man mentioned slyly. You were quite speechless, not expecting him to be here and not knowing what to say. 

“I, uh-”

“Can we talk right now?” He asked. You were flickering your eyes between Harry, someone that you were completely infatuated with, and the man that you were completely irritated with. But if you didn’t talk to him right now, he wouldn’t leave you alone and wouldn’t stop calling you, so you made the mistake of saying a soft ‘okay’ as you got up, looking over at Harry, giving a subtle smile. 

Just by the way he was looking at you, you knew you had regretted your decision and you wished that you hadn’t given in so easily. 

Once you were outside, you crossed your arms, in a way to seem reserved and closed off, but in reality, you really were. The uncomfortableness you felt was something you haven’t felt in a while as it felt like your stomach was boiling as bile salivated your mouth. Your fists were hidden underneath your arms, clenching, and your lips were curled into your mouth to immediately spew inappropriate sayings and vile remarks. 

“What do you want to talk about?” You asked, brows pinched together. 

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for quite a while now, but I just wanted to talk. I hate how we ended things…” he said remorsefully. You tried not to fall for the pouty look he was giving you as if he knew quite well you would fall for it. 

“It’s been six months, Max,” you reminded him. You and Max had an ugly breakup, and you had been picking up your own pieces yourself. You two had been together for nearly a year until he started to act differently. Noticing that he was going home late, staying at the bars until the early hours of the morning, and being quite rude and dismissive towards you, it ended in a screaming match where he ended up spitting out rude comments at you--calling you ugly, useless, and boring. It also caused him to confess that he was cheating on you for half the time you were together with him, and you thought that was a lie he made up just to make you angry, but a month after the breakup, you had found out that was true because you had accidentally bumped into the girl he was cheating on you with. At the time, you couldn’t blame him because the girl was absolutely gorgeous and seemed a lot of fun, but now, you know your worth and you absolutely didn’t deserve that whatsoever. 

For six months, you hadn’t seen him, but he had been leaving you countless calls to the gym phone. However, Max wouldn’t dare to step foot in the gym ever again because Don had clearly threatened him when he saw Max on the street, pinning him up against the brick wall by his shirt and yelling in his face that if he ever came close to you or the gym ever again, he wouldn’t see the end of the day. 

Don would’ve lost his shit if he saw Max in front of you. 

“This is pointless. I was fine living my life for the past six months without you. In fact, I haven’t even thought about you until you showed up. Couldn’t you see I was doing just fine? Why can’t you just leave me alone?” Your tone was scornful, not wanting to be in front of him anymore but instead the lovely man inside. 

“I just assumed you wanted some sort of closure…” 

“If I wanted closure, then I would’ve called you. But I don’t need closure. I was doing okay-” 

“With who? That man inside the restaurant?” He interrupted, brows raised. His demeanour suddenly changed just because you had given him the slightest bit of attitude. Max went from soft, wanting forgiveness to the Max that you saw last--completely offensive, rude, and a dickhead.  

“Yeah, his name is Harry, by the way. I was doing okay until you showed up!” You rolled your eyes, making your way back inside to Harry, who was waiting for you inside. 

Of course, Max wasn’t done until he got the last word, so he yelled out, “You know, whatever you’re doing with him, he’s gonna leave you; just like how I left you.” You slowly turned around, heart aching as his words had definitely done something this time. “You think Harry cares about you Y/N? Think again, he’s gonna leave you and you’re gonna be alone. You’re nothing, Y/N--not without me, at least. You aren’t worth anything, and you had to take over your dad’s gym to feel like you are. Stop fooling yourself.” 

Your eyes watered, trying your hardest not to let them slip from your eyes. You had already felt weak tearing up in front of him, so you couldn’t imagine what he would think if you bawled your eyes out. Suddenly, you heard the bell above the restaurant door chime. You didn’t bother turning around, but you somehow knew that it was Harry who was behind you. 

“Everything alright here?” Harry asked warily, eyes pointed towards you. 

“Yeah, man. See you, Y/N.” With that, he walked away, hopefully for good. Harry knew everything wasn’t alright with how you’re ready to burst into tears. As much as he wanted to follow him, force an answer out of him as to why you were in such distress, he was more worried about you. 

Standing in front of you, Harry placed an arm on your shoulder, his other hand held the brown paper bag that had both of your leftovers as he didn’t want to eat without you. Your body was tense, not because of Harry’s touch but because of the words that had taken such an effect on you, and you were doing everything to not break down in the middle of the sidewalk. 

“Hey, you okay?” Harry asked softly, bending down slightly to look you in the eyes. Your eyes were pointed down at the ground, thinking that if you looked Harry in the eyes, you were going to break. 

“Uh, c-can you take me to the gym, please?” You asked once you fully gained the courage to speak, but your voice was shaky. 

Harry immediately nodded. “Yeah, yeah, of course. Let’s go.” He put his arm around your shoulders and you comfortably nuzzled into his side as he guided you to his car. 

The drive back was silent—the complete opposite from the drive to the restaurant. Instead of happiness radiating out of your bodies, the space felt gloomy. Harry’s mind had spiraled as he drove, thinking about what that man could have possibly said to you. He was torn between wanting to be angry, but he was more concerned for you because you had never been this silent before. 

Once Harry was in front of the gym, you immediately got out before he was able to turn off the car. Using your keys, you unlocked the front door, turning off the alarm system before throwing your purse, not caring where it landed and rushed towards the heavy bags. 

This was where you let all your anger out. The place where you screamed at the top of your lungs with no care on who might hear you. This was your safe space, and if someone was going to judge you for utilizing your safe space, then they didn’t belong there. 

You screamed, punched, and kicked the heavy bag with full force as your tears had streamed down your face. Your heart was beating painfully with every scream you forced out of your body. Your punches were solid, making the bag swing back and forth, but your knuckles were starting to redden because you didn’t wrap your hands. 

Harry quickly followed you, a frown plastered on his face as he watched you let your anger out all on the heavy bag. He let you do your thing, watching from the sidelines before he waited for the right moment to cut in. 

“You. Fucking. Stupid. Piece. Of. Shit,” you yelled out with every punch. You sniffled, continuing to punch the bag, eyes glossy from your endless amount of tears. 

The friction from the leather and your bare skin was rubbing against each other, cutting and peeling open your skin. Your hands had numbed the pain, so you carried on with your punches until Harry had wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest and away from the heavy bag once he started to see redness and blood scattered onto your knuckles. You screamed, your body protesting, wanting to continue punching, but you knew you didn’t have any more energy. 

Turning around in his arms, your face was met with his chest, sobbing into his shirt. Harry’s hands soothed your back, comforting you as his heart ached from the sadness you radiated. Your bloody hands clutched his shirt as you cried, tears staining his shirt. Your whines and whimpers filled the empty gym, echoing back at you. 

Everything hurt—your heart, eyes, body, and your hands were now starting to sting. Harry held you tighter, carefully taking a seat onto the ground and bringing you down with him. You sat in between his legs and your head rested on his shoulder. 

After a moment, he felt you calm down and your body physically relaxed. Mindlessly, his hand brushed your hair back from your forehead, pressing a kiss to your skin. Harry hadn’t realized he did that until he pulled away and he hoped he hadn’t crossed a line by doing that. But when he kissed your forehead, you pulled him closer, burying your face into his neck. 

“Talk to me—tell me what you need, angel,” he said softly, wanting to help and be there for you. The nickname had completely slipped out as he’d been calling you that in his head. He’d never seen you break down at all, so this was very new to him. 

You shook your head, nickname going over your head. “Nothing. Just you.” 

Harry nodded his head, heart fluttering at your words as he held you tighter. He continued to soothe your hair and back as he heard you sigh deeply at the comfort. Looking down at your hands, he realized they were still bloody and cut up, and he knew that your cuts needed to be treated as soon as possible. 

“Can I take care of your hands? I’m still gonna be close, just wanna bandage you up.” You sniffled, nodding your head. Harry slightly smiled, carefully getting up before helping you up. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, first asking you where the first aid kit was, and you two walked to one of the offices to get the kit before going to the restroom. “Wanna sit?” He asked, patting the cold counter. Nodding your head, you placed your hands on the counter, but he quickly stopped you, taking off his jacket for you to sit on. 

“Thank you,” you softly said to him gratefully before jumping to sit on the counter. 

Harry opened the box that contained multiple and different types of bandages, an instant cold pack, thermometer, antiseptic wipes, and scissors. Harry washed his hands well before grabbing the antiseptic wipe and ripping it open. He situated himself between your legs, gently grabbing your hand to rest on his. He looked up at you, first asking you if it was okay to start, and when you said yes, he slowly and carefully started to wipe the area around the cut. 

You watched him as he cleaned your cuts; he was so focused on wiping the blood that stained your skin and was careful not to press too hard because you were starting to bruise already. As you watched him, you felt immensely grateful. It’d been a while since you had a true friend that would help you with anything and take care of you. Your feelings for him had skyrocketed, heart pounding so loud you could feel it in your ears. 

“The guy at the restaurant was my ex-boyfriend, Max,” you suddenly said. Harry looked up at you to let you know that he was listening as he continued to clean your hands. “It was a bit of a messy breakup; he called me names, insulted me, and confessed that he was cheating on me. When I saw him at the restaurant, that was the first time since the breakup, and it was like I relived that day again.” 

“Did he say anything to you?” Harry asked, holding back his anger because he knew the answer,  Harry watched through the window the entire time and noticed your posture and demeanor change, causing Harry to quickly pay and rush outside just in case anything happened. 

“Y-Yeah.” Your voice croaked. “Said I didn’t amount to anything—that I wasn’t anything without him-”

“That’s bullshit, Y/N-”

“I’m so mad at myself.” Tears were forming in your eyes again as you looked down at your lap. Redness brimmed your eyelids as you sniffled. 

“What? Why?” Harry asked confusingly. 

You shook your head at yourself. “For years, I’ve been training—learning how to defend myself for when I need it. I was raised to have a strong mindset, to not take shit from anyone because Don told me not to. But when he came around, I didn't say a word, let alone move a muscle. I hate how he made me weak. I hate how I didn’t stand up for myself.” Your voice was shaky and your tears streamed down your face as you paused for a moment. “He told me that you were gonna leave me just like everyone else in my life did,” you added. 

Harry was seething, breathing in through his nose as his face hardened. He masked his anger because his priority was to comfort you, so he tried to let go of his anger for a moment. 

“Listen to me.” He placed his hands on the outside of your legs, bending down to look you in the eyes. Your glossy eyes looked at him, a small pout on your face. “You’re the strongest person I know, alright, angel?” This time, you heard the pet name loud and clear, making your heart do backflips. “You didn’t let him walk all over you, no, you’re much more mature than him to ever start something. He wanted to see you angry, and frustrated. He wanted to add fuel to the fire, and you didn’t give him the satisfaction. You aren’t weak at all. You’ve got a strong heart, and I’m sure that punch of yours to his nose would damage it for good.” 

You breathed out a chuckle at his last statement, nodding, knowing he was right. Harry smiled, dimples showing proudly as he wiped the tears that were falling from your eyes. Giving him a half-smile, you leaned forward, pressing your face against his collarbones. He stood up straight to wrap his arms around your back. You daringly placed a kiss onto the exposed skin that was peeking out from his shirt. Harry’s face warmed up at the touch that was so soft and delicate, yet felt like it was burning through his skin. You pulled away, looking up at him as you thanked him. 

Your eyes darted between his eyes and his lips as your face was just inches away from him. His face was delicate and his beauty shined over the darkness of the world. It was as if he didn’t seem real like you couldn’t believe someone so beautiful and breathtaking was standing right in front of you. You studied every curve, movement, and freckle on his face as they all very well defined him, heightening your admiration with every look of his perfections and imperfections. 

Harry blushed under your stare, clearing his throat as he felt nervous. He pulled his face away a tad bit, offering you a small smile. “Of course. Always gonna be here for you. Now, let me just finish cleaning your hands before taking you home.” 

You nodded, letting him finish with his task. His hands were gentle as he wrapped the bandage around your hand. Your heart was filled with so much admiration and gratitude that you simply wouldn’t know what to do if Harry weren’t there today. The growing feelings had taken over your heart and mind that you were a bit scared, but nonetheless, you let them take over. 

Harry sat at the bar next to Benny, nursing a beer he had ordered ten minutes ago. It had been a while since they hung out together, but that was because Benny was trying to get his wife pregnant, so when Marianne calls, they spent their time baby-making. The other reason was that Harry was spending most of his time with you, which he loved every minute of. 

“So, a little bird told me that you’ve been going to the gym on Saturdays now,” Benny mentioned, a hint of tease in his tone. 

Harry chuckled. “Really? And who told you that?” He asked, taking a sip of his beer. 

“Starts with a D and ends with an N,” Benny laughed, giving you the obvious answer. 

“Well, I’ve been going in on Saturdays because Don always schedules our training sessions on Saturdays. Nothing else,” he slightly lied. After his first training day with Don, Harry told Don that he wanted to continue training with him because he gets a good workout with him rather than by himself, hitting the heavy bag or speed bag, so Don always scheduled for Saturdays since those were the easiest days. 

But other than the training sessions, he also got to see you on Saturdays, which he really enjoyed because sometimes after his workout, you two would grab a bite to eat or plan to hang out later that day. He liked it, he liked you. 

“Hmm, interesting. It doesn’t have to do with a particular trainer who also happens to own the gym?” Benny raised his brows. 

“Not really into Don, to be honest,” Harry joked, bouncing around Benny’s question. They both laughed, slamming their hand on the bar top. 

“Really, though. I’m happy for you. You’ve been in such a happier mood, and that’s all I want—is for you to be happy. She’s doing a great job,” Benny said honestly. Seeing his friend happy after everything he’s been through had lifted a certain weight off of his shoulders, and it seemed like he didn’t need to worry about Harry. 

Harry simply nodded, smiling as words weren’t necessary. He always felt like Benny was always concerned about him, and although he appreciated him being worried, he didn’t need to anymore because Harry was finally feeling much happier than he was before. 

“There you are.” A voice was suddenly heard next to Harry along with a hand on his shoulder. Harry tensed up, and he hadn’t in a while, but he knew that wasn’t your voice nor was it your touch. Harry turned his head to the side to find Lizette sitting on the stool next to him, giving him a smug smile. He didn’t say anything but look at Benny, and saw his eyes narrow, confused as to why Lizette was here. “I’ve been calling your home and paging you. Why haven’t you been answering me?” She pouted. 

Harry knew that pout all too well. She used it to trick you into saying yes to her and getting what she wanted, but Harry was stronger than that now; he knew how to hold his ground. 

He hadn’t seen Lizette ever since the week before he joined Don’s Box. With all of his time spent with you, he hadn’t really thought about Lizette, if he’s being honest. You had fully taken every inch and space of his mind that it was maximum capacity, but he still found a way to make space from the invading thoughts of you. 

“Just been…busy, Lizette, that’s all,” he said, not giving her his full attention as he looked at his bottle. 

“Too busy for me?” 

“Yeah, something like that.” He didn’t want to outright be rude to her because naturally, Harry was a kind and thoughtful man, so he kept his harsh thoughts to himself. 

She inched closer to Harry, close enough to where her mouth was against his ear as she whispered, “Well, since I so happened to run into you, how about we go back to yours?”

Harry took a deep breath. He felt like he was his old self again—making impulsive and not so thought out decisions that end up fucking him and his emotions over in the future. Being with Lizette was something, and it helped make him feel a little less lonely, even though she immediately left right after she got what she wanted. 

But Harry hadn’t felt lonely at the moment and in months. He had his best friend next to him, having a drink, and he had you. He wasn’t lonely at all. So, why was he getting off the stool and putting his coat on before closing his tab for the night? 

Benny’s eyes widened, looking at Harry as if he was asking what the actual fuck was he doing. Harry simply shrugged, patting his friend on the back before following Lizette out of the bar. The air was cold, but it wasn’t a delightful cold that he wanted to be in. It almost seemed kind of eerie as the gray clouds hovered over them. 

Lizette hugged Harry’s arm. “I’m glad you agreed.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek, but he immediately pulled away, taking his arm out of her hold. 

“You should go home,” he told her. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out as she was confused. “Get a ride home. I’m not taking you home nor am I going with you. I don’t want to do this anymore, Lizette.” 

“But you came with me-”

“That didn’t mean I was saying yes to your offer. I came out here with you to get you off of me and not embarrass me in front of my friend and the entire bar.” Harry’s voice was stern as he crossed his arms. “I know you’ve never really cared about me, so please just do me a favor and leave. I’m happier now-”

“You’re happier? With some other girl, huh?” Harry nodded and Lizette rolled her eyes, expression annoyed as she was beginning to get angry and defensive. “You think she cares? Guess what, Harry, she doesn’t. She’s gonna leave you just like your mom left you, your ex-girlfriend left you. Remember when she fucked your best friend in college? That she left you to be with him? And look at them now, they’re married! They don’t give a single fuck about you! What makes you think that this girl you’re seeing does?” 

Lizette had definitely hit a nerve. Harry had gone four years without hearing the story on how his ex left him for one of his friends from uni. The situation was quite sad, and it left Harry in pieces. Not to mention, Lizette was his ex’s best friend and she somehow seduced him into regularly having sex with her, which wasn’t entirely her fault because Harry was lonely and needed to feel something to fill the void of his loneliness. 

“Don’t think you’re so easy to love, Harry. It takes a lot of effort to do that, especially with you. You’re gonna continue being scared and closed off, and people are gonna continue to run away-”

“Harry?” Lizette was suddenly interrupted by you. You were walking to the bar because Benny had invited you, thinking that it would’ve been a nice surprise for Harry and to hang out with just the three of you. But you had seen Harry and some woman on the street and his face looked angry. “Uh, hi.” 

You turned towards the unknown woman as she looked you up and down before turning towards Harry, raising her brows as she figured out who you were and who Harry had been spending so much time with. 

Harry completely blocked you out, his attention was towards the statements Lizette had made. He had been doing so much better, and all of a sudden the relapse hit him ten times harder, like his accomplishment of being okay with himself completely disappeared. 

 Was he that hard to love? He knew that he pushed people away, that’s for sure, but he didn’t realize that it was difficult to love him. Harry then thought about the people that had left him because they didn’t love him enough to stay. His ex left him for his friend, it seemed like his mum had forgotten about him, and soon enough, Benny was gonna get tired of him and so were you. 

“And you are?” You asked, scowling at the woman in front of you. Lizette smirked, seeing as there was an opportunity right in front of her. She didn’t find you 

intimidating whatsoever. 

“Oh, guess Harry didn’t tell you, but we’ve been sleeping with each other for years. Friends with benefits, if you will,” Lizette answered with some sass and a snarl to her tone as she watched your expression turn into a hurtful one. 

Your face had softened as your eyes welled up with tears, but you didn’t dare let them fall. You looked at Harry and it seemed like he was in his head, but you had no clue he was ‘seeing someone.’ It felt like you had been cheated on, even though going out as friends didn’t mean anything to a fuck buddy. All of the moments you spent with him—the laughs, storytelling, training, and tension-filled moments had connected you both to one another. It made you feel special that you were seeing a side of Harry that no one else had, but you were wrong. 

“Guess you’re the new girl he’s seeing?” 

“What’s it to you?” Your brows knitted. 

Lizette shrugged. “Nothing. Just know that Harry’s difficult and loveless. So, just get out while you can.” She reached over to touch your shoulder, but you quickly stepped back before she could. She was talking as if Harry wasn’t right next to you two, and if this was a ‘women looking out for women’ type of situation, you weren’t going to accept it because she outright just insulted Harry. 

You were livid as your eyes turned dark, stepping closer to her. “Stay away from him, or I swear to god-”

“Or what? What are you gonna do?” Lizette challenged, stepping closer. She was slightly taller than you since she wore four-inch leather boots.

“Wanna find out? Next time I see you with him or hear you talk shit about him again, then you’ll find out because I can guarantee you’ll never see the light of day.” You held eye contact with her as she looked at you with such fierce emotion. 

“Cute. Harry’s got a little bodyguard,” she scoffed, stepping back. “I should go,” Lizette suddenly said, breaking you out of your heartbreaking thoughts. “I’ll call you,” she told Harry, despite what you had just said. It seemed like he wasn’t even listening as his blank stare was trained onto the ground. She walked away, her heels clicking against the cement. The satisfaction she felt right now felt good, knowing her words had definitely affected you both. 

When Lizette was far enough, you turned back towards Harry. This time, he was looking at you in a confused state, and it didn’t seem like him. 

“I-I didn’t know you were seeing someone-”

“You should go…” he said straightforwardly. You raised your brows as you were taken back. 

“I’m sorry?” 

“You should leave. For good. Get out of my life while you can. I promise I won’t get mad.” His voice cracked and was shaky. He couldn’t even look you in the eye while he was talking because he knew that would break his heart even more, especially if you were to actually leave for good. The negative thoughts had taken over, and this was what he did—pushing people away and giving them a way out before they realized that Harry wasn’t a lovable or worthy enough person to stay around for. 

“What makes you think I’m going anywhere?” You questioned confusingly. You wondered if he even thought about the conversation you two had a few moments ago when you had told him that you were staying for good. 

“They all do, anyway. They all leave and they never come back.” His voice was starting to raise slightly, frustration and anger pouring out of his veins as his eyes were starting to tear up. A pout remained on your face as you watched the distress never leave his angelic face. “Just please go.”

“I’m not going anywhere-”

“Why won’t you-”

“Because I care! Why don’t you get that?” You raised your voice, not too loud to startle him, but enough to convey your emotions and frustrations to him. 

“Because you’re going to eventually! You’re gonna leave and use me and never love me. I’m used to it, so you could go now!” Harry was starting to cry, light sobs were coming out of his mouth as he was trying to hold them back. You took a step forward, wanting to comfort him as your heart broke at the sight, but he stepped back, not wanting your touch. 

Your heart sank when he stepped back away from you because he had never done that before. You two were always comfortable with one another that both of your touches had felt like security. Your tears had streamed down your face, quickly wiping them. 

“Harry, I’m not gonna leave…” 

“It’s fine. You don’t know what it’s like for someone to leave and never come back. You don’t know what it’s like to feel completely loveless that someone physically had to get out of your life and not want to be in it anymore. You don’t know what it’s like!” He spoke firmly as he cried, tugging his curly locks in frustration. 

“I don’t know what it’s like?” You spoke loudly, and Harry looked up at you. “I know exactly what it’s like because my own mother left me when I was eleven-years-old, and I have no idea why!” You vented, sniffling. “You don’t think I know what it’s like to constantly wonder what you’re doing wrong because the people that were supposed to be there for you completely vanished? Because I do! I know that feeling quite well. So, don’t tell me I don’t know shit because it seems like we’re in the same boat.” 

Harry was speechless. Sure, you two had been close and had talked about your lives and childhood, but this was something that you two had to dig deep for because it wasn’t something you regularly spoke about nor did you tell new people that you’d just met. 

“I-I’m sorry I had no idea…” 

“You couldn’t have had any idea, Harry. But just know that that day my mom left me still confuses me. The look on my dad’s face when he told me that mom left still haunts me. The crying I did since I was eleven hurts me because she didn’t love me enough to stay.” 

“Y/N…” 

“It’s fine, I get it. I know we’ve known each other for only a few months, but I did not expect this from you, especially because of all that we’d talked about. I’d say I’m the newest person in your life but I’m also the closest, besides Benny. So, don’t shut me out.” Your heart was beating through your chest and all of your emotions began to pile up like they were leaves, falling from the branches of the trees. 

Harry looked defeated, knowing that you were right. He sniffled, not knowing what else to say because all he felt was a painful feeling in his chest since Lizette had gone up to him at the bar. 

When he didn’t say anything, you just nodded, knowing that it was best to give him some space so he could realize that you were here for him and that you weren’t going anywhere. 

“Call me when you wanna talk…” you told him before turning around. Harry watched you—he knew that he should go after you, not be scared and let you in, perhaps tell you that he’s practically in love with you, but he doesn’t move, feet glued to the ground. 

When you were only a few feet away, you turned back around, knowing that you hadn’t gotten your final words out yet. Harry looked up when he heard footsteps approaching him. 

“Fuck whatever people say to you; trying to degrade and bring you down because whatever they say, it’s not true. I will always be there to defend you, Harry. Don’t think I won’t be because I will always be on your side.” You paused for a moment. Your heart was fully opening and was beginning to be vulnerable. Trying not to let it overwhelm you, you continued. “Don’t think you’re not easy to love because you are. You’re extremely easy to love, y’know that? I would know because…I love you. And that’s crazy to say because we’ve only known each other for a short period of time, but I can’t help what I feel. So, there you go.” 

Before Harry was able to say anything, you walked away, and he could hear you sniffling and crying. Harry’s mouth was ajar, completely speechless and shocked, but his heart fluttered as he took in your words. You really loved him, he thought. No one had said those words and really meant them or they hadn’t felt real to him when he heard them, so the shock that he felt was new. 

You were far enough where Harry couldn’t see you. He hadn’t even moved an inch, and he knew that later on, he was going to be very disappointed in himself for not chasing you down and telling you that he loved you too. But for now, he needed to take it all in and hope that when he did tell you, it wouldn’t be too late. 

Taking a deep breath, you walked inside to your apartment, sniffling as you went straight to the bathroom to take a long and hot shower. Before you left your place to go to the bar, you had been contemplating your appearance because you wanted to look good. Nerves were all over your body as you were getting ready, and you sulked at how the events had completely turned tonight around. 

When you were out of the shower and changed, ready to get into bed despite the night only being nine in the evening, your pager beeped. Picking it up off the bedside table, the message was sent from Harry, reading ‘143.’ You raised your brows, reading it again and reading it once more. Your heart was pounding, studying the numbers to make sure you read them right. The simple code for ‘I love you’ was printed on your pager and you wanted to scream. 

Before you could actually scream, there was a knock on your door. You walked quickly, opening it as Harry was standing behind it, holding his pager out as he smiled softly at you. You had just finished crying in the shower, so your eyes were red and a tad bit swollen, but you were close to crying again because of how overwhelmed you felt. 

“Did you mean it?” You asked hesitantly, holding your pager up. 

“Of course I do. Did you mean it?” He retaliated back, wondering if you meant your three words as well. 

“Of course I mean it, Harry. Why wouldn’t I?” You asked, wiping the tear that had slipped down your face. 

“Because I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much that it hurts,” he claimed in one breath, feeling the tension and weight that he held in his shoulders release. “You’re everything to me, and you make my world less frightening. I just see your pretty smile and my day completely turns into a great one. I don’t wanna waste a day not telling you that now, and it feels pretty damn good to say it.”

You slightly nodded until you remembered one of your concerns earlier. “What about Lizette?” 

“Lizette was someone I used to sleep with. I haven’t seen her nor slept with her in months—before I even met you, I promise. And I’m sorry for assuming that you didn’t know what it felt like for someone to leave and that you had to tell me under those circumstances. But just know, that I’m not gonna leave, unless you tell me to, that is.” Every bit of him was opening up and he wasn’t hiding away. He was being completely vulnerable and it had scared him a bit, but when his words came out, he felt himself get better. 

You looked at him through your glassy eyes, vision blurred for a moment until you adjusted them and clearly saw the gorgeous man in front of you. His eyes were filled with tears as well, and you thought, how could someone still look so pretty while they cried? But that was Harry for you; someone who was genuinely beautiful no matter what. Someone who had a heart of gold and a flashing smile that made your heart swoon and knees weak. 

You simply reached your hand out and Harry walked towards you, into your apartment as he came close to your face as your bodies were pressed up against one another. The back of his fingertips gently brushed the side of your face, admiring the beauty that stood before him as he opened his heart up completely, not wanting to go another day without saying those three words back to you. 

The corners of your lips turned up and your tears were replaced by happy ones. You had walked away from Harry after you said I love you because he was looking at you like he had seen a ghost, not a friendly one, but more of a scary one. So, hearing those words were just music to your ears. 

“You mean that? That you love me?” You wanted to hear it again and again and again. 

“Ever word. I love you, angel,” he repeated, adding your nickname. He pressed his forehead against yours, inches away from your lips. 

“Never stop calling me that,” you instructed him, smiling. The first time he had said it, you came to the conclusion that you absolutely loved hearing that name come out of his mouth, especially if it was specifically for you. 

“Only if you never stop telling me that you love me,” he slightly smirked, dimples poking out. He was so immensely happy that his heart could burst just because of the love that he felt for you. 

You giggled. “I love you, baby-” 

“I, uh, wait. Do you mind…not calling me that?” He hesitated, and you raised your brows confused. “Someone else called me that, and I just don’t like hearing it. Never have since it came out of her mouth,” he explained shyly. 

A sudden realization came to your face as you realized that Lizette probably called him that. “Okay. I won’t call you that, ever…darling.” Harry’s lips began to slowly turn up, already liking that name so much better than the other one. He hugged you; and you smiled, closing and opening your eyes to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Your arms snaked around Harry’s waist as he cradled your delicate face in his hands. 

“Never stop calling me that,” he repeated your words as you two smiled and laughed until your jaws started hurting. 

His eyes flickered down to your lips and back up to your eyes. You pursed your lips, blushing as you watched his eyes glance back up and down. You rubbed the tip of your nose against his, pulling him closer; hearts beating in sync as butterflies filled your stomach. 

He brushed his lips against yours before fully connecting them, feeling every spark and shiver that traveled down his spine. You smiled into the kiss as the softness of his lips moved and molded against yours, feeling completely in bliss. The way his lips slotted perfectly with yours made you saturated and dizzy off of his love and touch. Butterflies were still in your stomach, but they were calm like they had been fluttering around for this moment, his touch, in order to relax. 

Pulling back, he smiled down at you, eyes love-struck, before giving you another kiss, and pulling away and kissing you again once more. 

“Kissing you is my new favorite thing,” he stated, drunk off kisses. You breathed out a giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck as you breathed in his scent. You felt his breath against your neck, feeling completely happy and content in each other’s arms. 

There was no fear in the air; just the two of you with open hearts and arms, welcoming in the new and profound feeling that you both took in, knowing that it’s going to change everything for the better. 

You pulled him inside and Harry kicked the door closed with his foot. His arms were holding you tight as you walked back to your bedroom. Opening your mouth slightly, Harry took the chance to meet your tongue with his, swiveling and tasting each other causing a shiver to run down your spine. 

You pulled back when Harry laid down on the bed, taking in the gushy feeling you had as you smiled. 

“Want you,” you simply stated. 

“You have me, angel.” 

“I know, but I want you. Need you,” your eyes pleaded for his touch, to feel him inside of you, for him to make you feel good. You desperately craved for his hands on all of you, his mouth kissing every inch of your skin, and his love passionately pouring out of his veins. 

Harry nodded, smiling. “Need you too. Need you forever,” he said, connecting your lips again as he hovered over you. 

You two kissed for a while, giggling against each other’s lips and having his weight on top of you as your hands roamed his back. You bucked your hips into his, feeling the hard-on that was growing in his pants, which made Harry grind into your center, moaning softly into your mouth. 

“Please do something,” you said, and he nodded, getting off of you before taking his jacket and shirt off swiftly. His tattoos were showcased in front of you and all you wanted to do was kiss every single one of them. “You’re beautiful, Harry,” you complimented, and he blushed, a soft ‘thank you’ came out of his mouth. Next was his pants, and before he was able to take his briefs off, you stopped him, telling him that you wanted to do it. 

You got off the bed, switching positions with him as you were now standing up as Harry laid down on the bed. You smiled, eyes glancing all around his body. He suddenly felt shy and intimidated under your stare, but he knew he had no reason to be because you were simply admiring him. This time around when it came to physically be vulnerable with someone, he knew he didn’t have to worry anymore when it came to you. 

You took off your lilac nightgown, exposing your body to Harry’s eyes. Your nipples had hardened due to the exposure to the cold. His eyes glimmered as he gazed at your stunning and beautiful body. Every curve and inch was something he tried to remember, and he was quite speechless at the sight. He reached out, gently grabbing your hips as he roamed his hands up your body and to your breasts, grabbing both in each of his hands. 

He looked up at you and you smiled down at him as he placed his mouth on your left pebbled nipple, sucking and licking it as his hand fondled with the other. You laced your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp as he did so, switching over to your right nipple. 

Harry pulled away, looking at you. “You’re an actual angel. You’re so beautiful.” 

“Harry…” you blushed. 

“You are, angel. So beautiful. Can’t believe I get to see you like this.” He kissed the valley of your breasts and down your stomach before getting up and pushing you down onto the bed with ease. He settled in between your legs, arms hooked under your thighs. 

Continuing kissing down your stomach, he reached the hem of your underwear, looking up at you before asking, “Can I take these off? Wanna make you feel good—the same way you always make me feel good.” 

“Please. Take them off. Wanna feel your mouth on me,” you pleaded as your arousal heightened. You wrapped your legs around his back, eagerly pulling his head towards your center, making Harry let out a chuckle. 

“Easy, angel. Not going anywhere.” Harry kissed your stomach once more before pulling off your beige underwear. You were glistening below him; you made a complete mess in your panties. “Fuck, you’re so wet. This all for me?” 

“Mhm. All for you, Harry, please,” you whispered impatiently. Harry’s dirty talk had only increased your need for him as it was quite surprising to see this side of him since he was more on the shy and reserved side outside, but nonetheless, you loved both sides—you loved him. 

Harry leaned down, pressing multiple kisses to your inner thighs, nibbling on the skin gently. You bucked your hips as he trailed his kisses towards your pussy that was eagerly waiting to be touched and licked. When he got there, he pressed a kiss to your clit before kitten-licking your sensitive button, making you softly moan. 

His tongue licked into the entrance of your pussy, gathering your arousal on the tip of his tongue to lubricate your clit even more. 

“Fuck,” you groaned as your hands found his curly locks, tugging at them gently. 

“You could do that harder, I don’t mind it,” Harry told you before going back to eating you out. You pulled harder and Harry deeply groaned against you, sending vibrations up your body. 

His hands wandered around your body, feeling the softness of your skin against his hands. Your skin had formed goosebumps due to his touch, and Harry smoothed out your skin so you were warm. He sucked on your clit quite harshly, earning a moan of his name from your lips as he grabbed both of your tits in his hands, squeezing them. 

You placed your hands on top of his, squeezing them with him, and Harry almost came at the sight of that. There you were, moaning his name out, getting your pussy eaten, and squeezing your tits on top of his hands. A sight he truly was lucky enough to see. 

Harry pulled one hand away to rub your clit as he tongued around your wet hole before tongue fucking you. He rubbed your clit at a moderate speed, enough for you to thrust your hips off the bed. Harry pulled his other hand that was still on one of your breasts away to pin your hips down onto the bed. 

“Stay still for me, angel,” he instructed, voice deep that made you even wetter. “You taste so good. Could eat you out all day.” 

“Harry…” you trailed, whining desperately for your release. “W-Wanna…cum…need to.” Your sentences were broken and Harry thought that was a good sign, knowing that he was doing so well you couldn’t form a proper sentence. 

“Tell me what you need. Let me know, so I can get you there.” 

“F-Fingers,” you told him, and he immediately brought his fingers to your clit, rubbing it before inserting two fingers inside your pussy. He thrust slowly, curling his fingers up to feel your walls.

He felt you pulsing around him as your legs were wrapped tightly around his back as you screamed his name over and over again. 

“C’mon, love. Give me one,” he encouraged, thrusting his fingers a bit faster. 

Once he hit the spot over and over again, you saw stars. Your vision had gone white for a few seconds, and you felt dizzy. The pleasure that ran through your body was overwhelming in the best way possible and you choked out a few sobs. It had hit you like a brick that you saw coming, but you were still surprised and shocked by the impact. 

Your hands held Harry’s hair tight that he thought for a moment that you might actually rip it off. Harry rubbed your pussy as you came down from your high, licking your orgasm that was seeping through your cunt, taking every drop of it. He looked up to see your head thrown back, chest heaving, and a vein that was bulging against your skin. He kissed your thighs while his other hand trailed across your body. 

When you finally were able to catch your breath, Harry kissed up your body, leaving the softest and loving kisses to your skin as you were quite sensitive. You grabbed his face, bringing his lips to yours as you immediately stuck your tongue in his mouth, swirling it with his to taste yourself on him—a mixture of his taste and your orgasm all on his tongue had made you wetter. 

Harry was grinding himself against your leg, trying to relieve some pressure. 

“Want you,” you told him once he pulled away, looking at him intently. 

“You sure?” 

“Absolutely. Please? Only if you want to-”

“I definitely want to. Just wanna make sure you were sure,” he breathed out a chuckle. 

“Course I want to.” There was a bit of silence between you two as you were simply just admiring him as he hovered over you. “Are you gonna fuck me, Harry?” You broke the silence, and Harry broke out of his trance, shyly giggling before getting off the bed. 

He peeled away his briefs, cock standing straight up from the slight painful restraint. He was big—girth and length wise, and you felt your mouth salivating from just looking at him. He got back on the bed, in between your legs as he sat on his knees. Spitting on his hand, he grabbed a hold of his dick, stroking it to relieve the pressure. The view was beautiful in every single way possible, and you didn’t dare to bat an eye because you didn’t want to miss one second of it. 

Wanting to take over for him, you reached forward, replacing his hand with yours as you slowly stroked his cock for him. Harry had a smug smile on his face but soon changed into a face of pure pleasure as your hand worked against him. His mouth was open as he let out a soft moan, looking down at your eyes as you were looking up, completely loving his reaction to your touch. 

“You’re so pretty, Harry,” you complimented as you continued to touch him. Your other hand reached forward to fondle with his balls, rolling them into your hand as Harry whimpered. “Love seeing you like this. Most gorgeous man I’ve seen in my life.” 

“Please, angel, you’re being too nice…” he managed to groan out, hands gripping your thighs. 

“But it’s true. Look so pretty when you’re like this, but also when you’re hitting the heavy bags. When we go out to eat and you mindlessly drink your entire drink while waiting for the food. But I think you’ll look extra pretty than you already are if you cum.” Your words of declaration were getting him on the edge as you stroke him. The way your voice slightly changed as you looked up at him with the most innocent eyes made him thrust into your hand, gripping the flesh of your skin as he threw his head back. 

“You think so?” 

“Mhm. Gonna be so pretty when you cum all over my body, my tits. Can you do that? For me, can you do that? Please?” You were completely begging for it, but even with all the begging, he knew that you had all the control right now. 

Your feet rubbed his calves up and down, and it was the simplest touch, but it heightened Harry’s need to let go. 

“Wanna cum for you, yeah.” His breaths were heavy and harsh as your touch was focused on his tip, wrapping your delicate hands around the head where he was most sensitive. 

Harry’s moans stuttered as a series of profanities slipped from his lips, spilling onto your stomach and breasts. You smiled to yourself as you studied his face when he came undone; his mouth was open, occasionally biting his lip, and eyes shut closed as his head was thrown back—he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen, and the fact that you got to see him like this was an honor. 

When he came down from his high, he slowly opened his eyes, meeting yours, staring right at him. You smirked, body covered in his orgasm, and he thought that was a picture worth taking. You were gorgeous covered in his pleasure that you caused, and you seemed to love it too since you made no effort to wipe it off. 

Boldly, he leaned down, dragging his tongue from your stomach to your tit, spending the most time on your breasts as he nibbled and licked your nipples, collecting his orgasm from your skin and held it on the tip of his tongue until he reached your mouth. You willingly opened your mouth as his tongue delved right in, feeding you his cum. 

You two passionately kissed, tasting him ever so sensually. You moaned into his mouth, thinking about how the sight of Harry licking his orgasm off of your body was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen. With your hips jerking up, you felt yourself getting wet again and in need to release once more. 

You whimpered, pulling away. “Please. Need you so bad.” Harry nodded, agreeing. 

“Condom?” He asked, and you immediately reached over to your bedside table, ripping open the condom before rolling it onto his dick that was still hard. 

Harry curled in his lips, watching you. You gave him a few extra strokes for good measure, earning a soft moan from his mouth. He took his length in his hand, running the tip up and down your slit, collecting your arousal and lubricating his cock. He gave you one last look and you nodded before he slowly pushed in, indulging in your wetness and softness. 

A moan came out of both of your mouths, feeling completely full and warm for one another with the stretch Harry had on you. He planted his elbows on both sides of you, holding himself up over you as he slowly began to thrust. 

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Feel so good for me.” He placed a kiss on your lips as he whispered. He found a rhythm as he started to move faster, rocking his hips against yours, making you moan. 

It was a feeling like no other, and it was the amount of love you two had for one another that made this experience much more special. Love was practically oozing out of both of your veins, filling the room to its maximum capacity as the both of you moaned out in pleasure. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms looped around his back, hugging him closer to you as if he couldn’t get closer. You whined into his ear, the sounds of your pleasure were music to his eyes, sending a shiver down his body, making him jerk. But that jolt had hit your g-spot, and you screamed out in ecstasy. 

“Right there. Keep doing that. Keep fucking me,” you managed to say. Harry maintained his pace, going deeper, and fucking you into oblivion as you kept crying and screaming his name out. 

Harry’s lips attached to your neck, nibbling and licking your skin, leaving a few decent size love bites that he was sure to admire when they’d fully formed. Your nails had raked down his back, leaving a burning but pleasurable sting down his skin, letting him know that he was doing an amazing job. 

“You like that?” He groaned into your ear, leaving chills rising onto your skin. 

“Mhm. Just like that. Don’t stop. I-I’m so close.” You threw your head back into the pillows, and Harry took the opportunity to attack your exposed neck with kisses again. Your hands found Harry’s hair, tugging at his curls as he kissed you. That encouraged him to fuck you harder and faster, repeatedly hitting your special spot. “O-Oh…” 

“Come on, angel love. Cum for me, please. Wanna see you make a mess around me,” he encouraged you. 

With a few more thrusts, you were done. You had fully and completely released around him as your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks. Your vision had gone white for a few seconds, head dizzy, and your breaths were caught in your throat as your hips involuntarily jolted, meeting his thrusts that were fucking you through your high. 

Harry started to thrust sloppily, burying his face in your neck as he spilled into the condom. His hot breath was against your skin as he started to slow down, coming down from his orgasm. 

The room was silent as the only sounds present were the heavy breaths and the post-orgasmic whimpers coming from your mouth as you two held one another. Your nails gently scratched down his back, contrasting to the desperate and needy scratches that you had given him just a few minutes ago. 

Harry lifted his head up, meeting your eyes before connecting his lips against yours, tongue meeting first before your lips moved in sync so passionately and lovingly that you both unspokenly agreed to never taste another pair of lips again. 

“I love you so much,” Harry said, resting his chin on your chest. 

You smiled down at him, eyes gleaming as you looked at your love, your entire heart, the man that had stolen your breath and heart just by one look. 

“And I love you too.” 

Waking up to the warmth of the body next to you was your favorite thing in the morning—had been for six months now. The sight next to you was something you wouldn’t get used to as you always found yourself feeling so lucky every single time you woke up next to him. 

But a pout formed onto your face when you saw that the space next to you was empty. The crinkled yellow sheets were left, missing a certain person that you had been excited to see this morning since you closed your eyes the night prior. 

Turning over to your bedside table, you grabbed your pager, seeing if you had any messages, and one specifically stood out to you, making you sleepily smile at your pager. 

“Goodmorning, angel,” Harry greeted as he stood in the doorway of your bedroom. He was wearing a gray sweatsuit, holding a white paper bag in one hand and a smoothie tray, that held two smoothies, in the other hand with a loving smile plastered on his face, making his dimples poke out. 

“Mm. Hi, darling.” Your arms reached forward, gesturing him to come to you, and he gladly did, situating himself on your body as you wrapped your arms around him. 

You two stayed like that for a moment, basking in the presence and gratitude of one another. It was nice until your stomach started growling, making Harry chuckle. 

“C’mon, gotta feed my girl before we head to the gym.” He got off of you, helping you up and out of the bed before helping you make the bed. He walked over to the kitchen before you went to the restroom, and when you walked out, Harry had your breakfast set on a plate. 

You two made light conversation, mostly enjoying the silence and tastiness of the food before you got ready to go to the gym. 

When you walked into Don’s Box, you were immediately greeted by a few of the members, giving you high fives, as well as saying hi to Harry. The entire gym had found out you two were together when they started to notice Harry coming into the gym almost every day and staying until the gym closed, so a few people had their speculations. Don was certain you two would get together from the very beginning, and he had told you that the only reason he was trying to act intimidating when Harry first walked in was that he sensed that something would happen, and he was right, something did happen. 

Benny was ecstatic; jokingly telling Harry that he could now spend time with his wife since you had taken all of Harry’s time now, which Benny earned a push from Harry towards the ropes of the ring. Benny’s wife was also pregnant and wanted Harry to be the godfather, which Harry immediately took on that responsibility and role. But that also meant since you and Harry were planning on staying together for the long run, you were becoming a godmother as well, which you were very excited about. 

You climbed up into the ring as Harry followed. You had a day off, and no one needed your attention other than Harry, so you helped him put on his gloves after you wrapped his hands in tape, and you put on your mitts, making sure they were tight before clapping the mitts together—Harry punched his gloves together, making sure they were comfortable. 

You raised your brows at him teasingly. “Ready, darling?” 

“Ready as always, my angel,” he responded, and you smirked. 

“Give me a good one. Give me 1.” 

talk to me about your favorite moments, your thoughts and feelings about this pls! thank you for reading <3

[shitty-marvel-fan732]

Hi can I request a peter parker x barnes-Rogers reader (steve and Bucky's daughter) and me and Peter find out I'm pregnant with Peter's baby and we try to keep it a secret but everyone is suspicious of us cause I've been really poorly lately and Peter is being overprotective and one day Peter accidentally says "don't do that it could hurt the baby" or "and everyone freaks out and me, Peter and my dads have a long talk but everything is fine thanks xx

Unexpected

Pairing: Peter Parker x Barnes-Rogers! Reader

Requested?: Yes!

Word count: Almost 7k

Warnings: Pregnancy, some angst but thats it I think?

Author's Note: Yessssss this was so fun to write! Very excited to be back to posting on this page again. Thank you so much for the request! Hope to start adding in more content soon, so if yall have any requests feel free to send them in! And if you have requests sent in already, know that I love you and I will be getting to clearing out my inbox here pretty soon 🥰

Taglist: @just-that-bi-girl , @winterfrostsarmy

---------------------------

In retrospect, the entire team should have realized what was going on with you a lot sooner. To their credit, most of them had noticed that something was different about you, but other than Nat and Wanda none of them had a guess as to what exactly that was. 

The men appeared completely clueless in respect to the cause of the recent changes in you. Even Clint, a married father of three, hadn't caught on even after he'd seen you leaving the bathroom having clearly just thrown up. Tony had been the closest to figuring it out of the all men, having noticed your odd mood swings and crying fits as they became more and more frequent. He noted the same behavioral pattern as he'd found himself stuck in after the Battle of New York, and secretly worried for your mental well-being. He hadn't felt comfortable enough to broach the topic with you just yet though, instead opting to watch you from a distance for the time being. 

The women, however, seemed to understand almost instantly what was going on. Nat had figured things out once she realized that you had been skipping training lately and noticed that you and Peter barely appeared to leave one another's sides for even a moment. Wanda based her guess almost solely upon the fact that she could just feel that something was different about you; your entire energy had changed in the last few weeks and she noted it even before Peter had. Both women had their suspicions, but had seemingly agreed to keep their thoughts to themselves until you were ready to tell the team what was going on. 

Your dads were a different story altogether. 

It took Steve and Bucky much longer to notice something had changed with their daughter, Steve longest of all. Either you'd done a great job of avoiding your Pops or he'd been incredibly unobservant (or more likely both), but he hadn't seen anything that he would've considered out of the ordinary for you. 

That is, until today. 

"AAAAUUUUUUGGGGH"

Steve was on his feet in an instant, sprinting into the kitchen at the sound of your enraged scream. He skidded to a stop and surveyed the room with a trained look for the source of danger, but found none. In fact, you and Sam were the only two in the space as far as he could tell. Sam's back was pressed snugly against the furthermore countertop as you practically cornered him, the older man clearly caught off guard by your sudden burst of rage. You flung your hands around wildly as you yelled, one gripping a box so tightly that your knuckles were beginning to turn a concerning shade of white.

Completely bewildered, Steve watched in stunned silence for moment as you fumed and screamed expletives at the slightly-terrified looking Sam, without any clear indication as to what had happened. 

"I CANNOT FUCKING BELIEVE YOU, YOU GODDAMNED ASSHO-"

"Y/N Barnes-Rodgers!" Steve scolded you finally, momentarily stopping your verbal assault. "What in God's name is going on here?" 

Your eyes turned to your Pops' briefly before flickering back to glare in Sam's direction. 

"Pigeon-brain ate the last of my oreos," you seethed, walking forward and jabbing an accusatory finger to Sam's chest, his hands instantly flying upwards in surrender.

 Steve felt his jaw drop in utter disbelief.

“You-,” 

“What’s with all the commotion in here?” Bucky interrupted, striding into the kitchen much as Steve had moments ago and joining his husband's side with a confused look on his face. Steve crossed his arms and frowned at their daughter. 

“Apparently our daughter is screaming at Sam because he ate her cookies.” your Pops explained tersely.

“Not cookies, oreos,” you muttered, glare never wavering from Sam. You furiously threw the offending empty package roughly at his still bewildered face in lieu of another expletive. Sam was evidently so bewildered, in fact, that he didn't even flinch as the box hit his head and bounced pathetically to the floor. 

Bucky raised his eyebrow. 

“And that’s why you’ve been screaming like that?” he confirmed. You nodded, arms crossing your chest stubbornly. 

Bucky shrugged, looking towards his husband with a look of indifference. “Makes sense.”

“No, it absolutely does not make sense,” Steve lightly scolded, glancing at Bucky with a pointed look before returning his gaze to you. “Y/N you’re completely overreacting. Apologise to Sam right now.”

Your mouth dropped open, and you gaped at your dads with an expression that was equal parts betrayal and rage. 

“No.”

“No?” Steve repeated incredulously. He stared at you with disbelief, looking between you and Bucky like he was hoping he’d somehow misheard you. You met his glance with an equally stubborn look as you planted your feet solidly beneath you and tightened the cross of your arms. “What do you mean, no?”

“You heard me,” you spat, unwavering. 

Sam merely looked confused as he watched the two of you argue, if albeit still a bit scared, but Bucky was sure his shock was evident on his face. You never back-sassed your Pops, not even when you were really angry, and Bucky only felt his disbelief grow at the prospect that your attitude was all due to a few cookies. 

"Y/N, you don't get to tell me no," Steve ground out carefully, voice stern with a rare sort of parental authority he seldom had to use with you. In fact, Bucky was pretty sure he hadn't actually heard him use this particular tone since way back when you were a toddler testing the limits of your dads' patience. But unlike your three-year-old self, you didn't back down at your Pops' disapproving tone; in fact, you met his intense stare with a flippant roll of your eyes, deepening your dad's shock at your abrupt behavioral shift. 

"He fucking knows what he did, everyone knows those oreos are mine," you snapped, eyes alight with a kind of fury the likes of which your dads had never seen from you before. 

"Language!" Steve gasped at his daughter, his authoritative tone giving way to a spluttering one of complete disbelief. 

"FUCK OFF!" you shouted instantly. 

"HEY!"

Bucky had officially had enough. Irritation blossomed deep within his chest at the hurt he saw wash through his husband's eyes at your vulgar screech. Teenaged angst was one thing, but it was entirely another to blatantly disrespect Steve like you were. He still didn't know what was really causing you to act like this--because no way in hell could this be all over some oreos-- but he'd definitely passed the point where he even cared. 

"Doll, that’s enough. Clearly you're upset, but you cannot speak to your Pops like that," he practically growled. You turned your attention to your dad with the same kind of indignant irritation in your eyes, a flash of fresh anger rolling across your face at the sight of Bucky's equally irate expression. 

"You can fuck off too," you spat.

 Bucky's jaw clenched dangerously, the muscle in his cheek jumping and twitching as he took in his daughter's crass retort. Sam had long since left the scene, the nearly suffocating tension officially too much for him to take. Steve's eyes went wide for what felt like the millionth time since he'd first walked into the kitchen. If he hadn't known something was wrong before, he undoubtedly did now. 

You may not disobey him often, but you never snapped at Bucky. 

Steve had long since accepted that, though you loved the two of them the same, you'd always liked Bucky more. A daddy's girl from birth, you and Bucky had always been inseparable-- so for you to now scream and curse at him like this was like a flaming-red flag in Steve's mind. 

Something was definitely wrong. 

"Excuse me?" Bucky hissed. The two of you faced one another, arms crossed and expressions grim. You planted your feet even more solidly underneath you, staring your dad down with a fury so intense it was almost palpable. If it weren't for the overall tension of the situation, Steve might've teased the two of you for your near-mirrored positions. 

"Y/N? What's going on, I thought I heard yelling?" Peter asked as he practically skidded into the kitchen. He immediately joined you, face morphing into a look of utter concern at the sight of yours and Bucky's standoff. Steve braced himself, mentally apologizing to Peter for the verbal assault that was surely coming his way. 

But it never came. 

It was as if all the unwarranted anger was sucked from your body in a rush as soon as you caught sight of your boyfriend. Your face crumpled into an anguished expression, and Steve could see how the tears welled up in your eyes instantaneously. Peter clicked his tongue in pity and you thrust yourself instantly into his awaiting arms. He gripped you tightly, and you eagerly buried yourself further into his embrace. Face smashed tightly against his chest, you began to sob uncontrollably.

Your dads gaped at the scene, wide-eyed. 

"S-sam ate my oreos a-and now everyone's mad at me, and I j-just wanted my snack!" you all but wailed, voice muffled by Peter's body. 

Bucky blinked once as he turned to his husband, total confusion written all over his features. Steve just gaped in response, unable to formulate a semi-coherent thought, let alone words. 

"Oh angel, it's okay," Peter cooed softly into your hair, hands rubbing up and down your back soothingly as you continued to cry. "I can go and get you more oreos; don't cry Y/N/N, I'll just run down to the store right now to get you some."

Lifting your head from his chest, you seemed slightly placated and hopeful as you sniffled and looked up at him. 

"C-can I come with you?" you asked him shyly, tear-stained cheeks turning a slight shade of pink at your childish request. Peter smiled fondly down at you, clearly happy to see that you were feeling better. 

"Of course, it'll be nice to walk with you," he smiled sweetly at you and lightly kissed your nose. You giggled as you removed yourself from his embrace before walking over to your dads. 

"M'sorry I shouted daddys. Love you guys!" you apologized in a chipper voice before kissing both of the men's bewildered cheeks. 

The two supersoldiers both stood in stunned silence as they watched you leave hand in hand with Peter, who briefly shot them an apologetic look before the pair were gone. Steve thought he heard Peter mumbling something to Y/N as they left, but the only words he could pick out were "not good to get so worked up", which only confused him further. 

"What in the hell was that?" Bucky grumbled, face still crinkled with bewilderment. Steve simply shook his head. 

"I have absolutely no idea. I've never seen her behave like that, have you?"

"Nothing like that, but she was acting funny the other day too," he frowned, recalling the scene he'd walked in on just a few days prior. "She was full out sobbing on the couch a few days ago over a toilet paper commercial."

Steve gaped at his husband. 

"Sh-she...what?"

"Doll have you seen your Pops? I can't find him any-"

Bucky's question died in his throat as soon as he hit the threshold of the TV room. You were curled up on the couch, arms wrapped around your knees as sobs racked through you. Peter sat next to you with his eyes crinkled in concern and hands rubbing gently at your shoulders as you cried. 

"Y/N what's wrong, why are you crying?" Bucky asked. Feeling his protective instincts kick in instantly,  he couldn't help but search the room with his eyes in search of any danger. Finding nothing, he narrowed his eyes at your boyfriend.

"Did he do something?" Bucky demanded. "Parker I swear to God if you hurt her I-" 

"What? N-no I didn't do anything Mr. Bucky I swear!" Peter spluttered, eyes widening in fear at the terrifying look in your dad's eyes. 

"Bullshit, then why's she crying like that? Of course you did someth-"

"N-no it's not P-peter dad!" you interrupted tearfully. "There was an ad on TV that just made me emotional okay? You know, the one with the boy crying in the bathroom and his dad offers him toilet paper for his tears?"

There was a beat of silence. 

"Doll, you really mean to tell me that you're sobbing over a toilet paper ad?" Bucky asked, brows furrowed in disbelief. You sniffled as you nodded, and fresh tears began to pick your eyes once more. 

"Yes! I mean it's just so inspiring," you blubbered. "I mean how often do you actually get to see a teenaged boy cry on TV? Never, cause toxic masculinity standards in this stupid patriarchal society we all live in say otherwise! And not only does the dad accept that his son is crying and is allowed to feel real emotions, he sits down to talk with him about them! I just got so happy thinking about all the little boys who will see this ad and feel the validation that they're normal for feeling sad every once in a while!"

Bucky just stared at his daughter with a blank look for a moment; he looked like he was unable to formulate a single response to the information he'd just been given. 

"Well that's...uh….that's great I gue-"

"I can't believe you would just assume that me crying just had to be because of something Peter did," you interrupted, angrily brushing the leftover tears from your face. "It's so unfair, you always blame him for everything!"

"I-uh," Bucky stammered, flustered by the sudden change in your emotions. You scoffed and stood quickly from your spot in Peter's embrace, crossing your arms petulantly. 

"It's true dad, you're always looking for something to yell at him for! It's so biased and unfair," you practically yelled. "Honestly it's such prejudiced bullshit. Some kind of outdated 'lock up your daughters' rhetoric that I can't believe yo…"

At some point during your impassioned speech you began stomping away from both your dad and Peter while still ranting. As your shouts became fainter and fainter Bucky found himself directing his dumbfounded expression at Peter instead. In a rare show of solidarity with your boyfriend, Bucky silently begged for an explanation as to what on earth had just happened. 

Despite the way his heart was hammering wildly in his chest Peter remained silent. He offered only a passive shrug to your dad before he clambered to his feet and began following after you. If Bucky hadn't been caught so off guard he surely would've been suspicious at the visible sweat that was beading on Peter's forehead and the way the young boy's hands trembled as he quickly left the room, the question of what was causing your mood swings laying thickly unanswered in the air. 

"What the fu-"

"She...a toilet paper ad? Really?"

"Yep, a friggin' toilet paper commercial," Bucky nodded solemnly. Steve blinked once, shaking his head. 

"So what did you do?" he asked incredulously. 

"Nothin'," Bucky shrugged. "She was so damned worked up that I figured she needed some space, and by the time I went to talk to her she'd already seemed completely fine. Thought it wasn't worth upsetting her all over again."

Steve snorted. 

"Yeah right, you were just too scared you would make her mad again," he chuckled. 

"Hell yeah I was," Bucky admitted freely, crossing his arms and shooting his husband a defiant expression. "You've seen her, you know how terrifying she can be when she's pissed!"

Steve chuckled once more, shaking his head fondly. 

"Mmmm, and I wonder where she got that from."

Bucky narrowed his eyes and scowled at the implication, a surly look overtaking his features. Steve couldn't help but laugh outright at the expression on his husband's face; it was the exact same face you always made when you were annoyed, right down to the little pout in your lip. 

"For the last time Stevie, she doesn't get that from me," he grumbled. 

"Sure Buck, whatever you say," Steve laughed. 

Though your odd behavior and mood swings were at least now on both your dads' radar, neither had any clue as to the actual reason for your sudden changes. The pair of them chalked up the incidents to little more than teenaged angst, however they had no idea how wrong they were nor just how soon they were about to find out what was really going on. 

---------------------------

"I don't understand Y/N," Steve stated carefully. "Why exactly don't you want to go with the team?"

You shifted your weight from foot to foot anxiously, huffing out a breath in mock annoyance and very real frustration. 

You'd been in the training room, lightly working out with Nat and Wanda when your Pops and Tony had walked in to announce that there was an urgent mission that apparently would require the entire team. Internally cursing your timing, you'd tried to sneak out of the room unnoticed, but as your luck would have it, your dad caught you. Now you were stuck arguing with your dads, the attention and curiosity of everyone in the gym directed at you. 

Your heart was thrumming wildly in your chest as you furiously racked your brain for some way, any way, out of this assignment and this conversation without an actual reason. 

Well, a reason you were actually willing to give, that is.

"Why does it even matter?" you snapped, hoping that no one clocked the tremor in your voice. "It's not like you guys even need me anyways."

"Doll, you always jump at the chance to come with us," your dad interjected. "So what's so different about today?"

"I just don't want to," you whined, lying through your teeth. "I'm tired and I don't feel good."

"But you were literally just training?" Sam pointed out. You narrowed your eyes at him, irritation bubbling under the surface of your anxiety at the contradiction. The older man shrank back a bit under your firey gaze, the previous incident in the kitchen clearly prominent in his mind as he stepped behind Wanda. 

Clint snorted. 

"If you could even call that training," he mumbled under his breath. Your jaw dropped. 

"What is this, gang up on Y/N day?!" you sassed as your arms flew to cross your chest defensively. Your Pops shook his head. 

"We're just worried Y/N/N," he reassured, brows furrowed with concern. "You've been behaving very strangely lately, and this is just one more thing."

"Yeah doll," Bucky nodded, agreeing with his husband. "So what gives?"

Your pulse sped up once more at the direct question, a sickening feeling rising in your throat like bile at the realization of just how suspicious your dads were. Unable to think clearly through your panic, you did the only thing you could think of. 

You scoffed in fake disbelief, rolled your eyes, and began stomping out of the room. 

"Y/N Barnes-Rodgers!" your dad shouted in an indignant and angered tone. "We are not done talking about this!" 

Damn. 

"What?!" you whirled around, stomping your foot like a child. "I just don't want to go this time okay?"

Bucky's face turned red at your open defiance, but Steve interrupted before he could even open his mouth to snap back at you. 

"No Y/N it's absolutely not okay," he scolded. You felt the burn of unshed tears prick your eyes as they searched desperately around the room, mind racing to think of an excuse that would get you out of this situation. 

"But-"

"No, no buts Y/N," your dad barked, clearly having composed himself enough to speak once more. His arms were crossed as he glared at you, and the stubbornly annoyed look on his face was enough to make the tears in your eyes begin to fall. A feeling of utter entrapment and fear settled in your chest like a suffocating weight as you felt the hot, fresh tears stream down your cheeks. 

"Doll, are you crying?" your Pops questioned incredulously. "What on earth is going on with you?"

"Nothing! I just can't go today," you blubbered, past the point of being able to hold back your sobs. 

"You can't go, or you won't go?" Bucky asked pointedly, evidently not swayed by your tears. 

"It doesn't matter," you cried desperately. Your dad's eyes bored into yours directly as if he was searching your brain to find out what you were holding back from him. 

"It clearly does matter, otherwise you wouldn't be acting like this," he continued harshly. "I'm not sure what it is you aren't telling us, but I don't even care at this point. Stark said he needs everyone and your Pops told you to go, so you need to get yourself together and go and get ready."

The tears were now cascading down your face in giant streams and your face was growing warmer by the second. You darted your gaze back and forth between the other team members' faces, still searching for some kind of last minute way out of this situation. Finding only curious or concerned expressions, you turned back to your dads with wide eyes. You felt your mouth go dry as your lips open and closed wordlessly, the severity of your current predicament weighing you down more and more by the second. 

"I-"

"No. I don't want to hear another word from you Y/N," your dad snapped. "Go and get ready for the mission now."

"But she can't go!"

Time stopped for a split second as the entire room's heads snapped towards the desperate shout.

Peter had only just entered the training room, wondering where everyone was, when he caught the tail end of your dad's order. He couldn't help but blurt the first thing that'd come to mind, the implication of which only dawned on him afterwards. As he rushed to your side he shot you a sheepish look, and you internally cringed a bit at his slip. 

Even though you were certain Peter's involvement would only further reduce your already slim chances of getting out of this mission without a full confession of what was really going on, you couldn't help but feel an inkling of relief as his eyes locked with yours. His hand immediately intertwined itself with yours once he'd reached you, and your belly fluttered with a warm tinge of comfort with the simple touch.

True, things were probably about to go sideways for the both of you, but at least Peter was here to go through it by your side. 

"Excuse me Parker?" your dad spat incredulously, eyes blazing with anger at your boyfriend's outburst. "I don't recall asking you for your opinion on my daughter or what she can or can't do."

Peter stood a little taller as he looked Bucky straight in the eyes with an unprecedented amount of determination. 

"She can't go." he practically growled, eyes stern and unyielding as he openly defied your dad. He was standing a half-step in front of you, tense back partially shielding you from the rest of the team as he spoke.

 Even with his face turned the opposite direction you could see from his profile the way his brows were furrowed and how dark his normally chocolate brown eyes had gotten. You felt a slight shiver run up your spine at the fiercely protective energy Peter was radiating, and your heart felt a bit lighter at the way he stood up to your dad on your behalf. You squeezed his hand in an effort to ground him, and he softened marginally as he glanced back at you.

Your dad however looked as if he might combust soon based on the way his eyes bulged out and his face turned a concerning shade of red. 

"What's that supposed to mean Peter?" Steve interjected carefully, his hand reaching up to rest comfortingly on his husband's shoulder. 

"It means exactly what we said," Peter said firmly. "Y/N cannot go on this mission today."

The team watched the interaction between you, Peter, and your dads with their heads bouncing back and forth between the four of you like they were watching a tennis match. Not a word had been uttered from a single one of them, and yet they stood completely transfixed as they waited patiently to see the outcome of the argument. 

"And why, pray tell, is that Parker?" your dad hissed, scowl etched across his features. 

Peter's eyes traveled to yours, irises swimming with a silent question. Realizing that there was no way out, you took a steadying breath as you nodded softly and squeezed his hand once more in reassurance. Peter smiled at you fondly before dropping his smile and turning back to your parents. 

"She can't go because...it could be bad for the baby."

You could've heard a pin drop in the training room. No one made a sound, no one even dared to breathe. The shock in the room was palpable, but you couldn't be bothered to even glance at anyone other than your dads, their reactions the only two that mattered to you in this moment. 

Though you'd expected a rather explosive reaction from your parents (especially from your dad), you were met instead with blank stares. Your dads were simply staring at you and Peter in stunned silence, and their lack of a response actually frightened you more than the screaming you'd been anticipating for weeks now. The beat of silence seemed to stretch on eternally, though in reality it was probably no more than thirty seconds. You watched nervously, your hand becoming sweaty in Peter's as you waited. Finally, your Pops blinked and opened his mouth cautiously. 

"Bad for the wha-"

"I SWEAR TO GOD PARKER THAT'D BETTER BE SOME KIND OF DISGUSTING PET NAME FOR MY DAUGHTER."

Ahhh. There it was. 

Your dad had clearly broken through his frozen thoughts enough to respond, and you would've laughed if you weren't so terrified. He looked positively furious; his eyes were darker than you'd ever seen them and his face had darkened from red to an almost purple color that looked painful to say the least. His murderous gaze was hyper-fixated on Peter, and you couldn't help but step in front of your poor boyfriend in an effort to take some of the heat off him. 

Peter, evidently, was having none of that, and he frowned before pulling you backwards and tucking you into his side tightly. If you hadn't been so focused on your dad right now you might've rolled your eyes at his over-protectiveness. Instead you allowed yourself the comfort of his embrace as you took a steadying breath. 

"It's not," you responded as calmly as you could manage while your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your throat. "I'm pregnant."

Silence enveloped the room once more, and you could've sworn it was even more awkward than the first time. It must've been, because you could see Nat and Wanda ushering the rest of the team out of the gym out of the corner of your eye. You weren't quite sure if you were grateful for the privacy or more scared of how your dads would react now that you were alone.

Your dads stared at you and Peter with wildly different expressions. Steve was staring off into space and looking as if he was either going to throw up or pass out soon, and Bucky still looked as if he was about a half a second away from murdering Peter with his bare hands. To his credit, Peter was still standing by your side with the same look of determination as before despite this, but you could feel the way his pulse was hammering through his veins as he too carefully surveyed your dads' reactions.

You stood quietly, trying to be patient as you watched them, but the suspense and anticipation quickly became overwhelming and you couldn't help but blurt,

"Say something!"

Though both their gazes snapped up to your face with your plea, yet neither your dad nor you Pops said anything. You were suddenly overcome with the urge to explain yourself. 

"I know that you're probably in shock or angry or maybe both- and honestly that's completely fair!" You rambled breathlessly. "I know we're still only eighteen, but I really think everything's gonna be okay? Really, I do. And I'm so sorry about today, believe me this isn't how we planned on telling you at all bu-"

"You're not coming on the mission," Steve interrupted, his voice completely devoid of emotion. "Nor is Peter. Your dad and I will be back later, and we're all going to have a long discussion."

It felt like all the air was sucked out of your body as you watched your Pops pull your dad towards the training room exit. You hadn't been fully sure of just how you were going to tell them, but never in your wildest dreams did you imagine that it would come out like this. Tears once more welling up in your eyes, your heart sank as you realized just how disappointed and angry they were. 

"I love you," your voice cracked as you called to their retreating forms, unable to bear the sight of them leaving without reminding them. They both paused in the doorway, and without turning back both muttered that they loved you too before they were gone. 

As soon as they left you immediately twisted yourself and thrust your face into Peter's chest, the tears flowing steadily as you sobbed. He wrapped his arms tightly around your shaking form, lips finding the crown of your head and hands rubbing soothingly across your back. 

"Th-they hate me now," you whispered brokenly into Peter's soft hoodie in between sobs. "They hate me Pete, they're n-never going to forgive me for this!"

Peter shushed you quietly, gentle lips kissing your hair as he began to sway you back and forth slowly. 

"They don't hate you angel," he soothed. "They're just surprised. Disappointed in the timing maybe, but they'll get over it. I promise."

"I never wanted it to go like this," you cried as you pulled your head from his chest slightly. Peter's hands left your back for a moment to come and rest on either of your cheeks. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead before retreating upwards to look deep into your eyes. 

"I know you didn't sweet girl, but it did," he said gently as he brushed away some of your tears with the pads of his thumbs. "It did and it's going to be okay. We'll talk to your dads when they get back and clear everything up. And no matter what, you and I are going to get through this together, okay?"

You sniffled softly, nodding sadly. Peter's eyes were swimming with guilt and dejection at the sight of the empty expression on your face. He didn't know how to comfort you in this situation, but it was like every molecule in his body was demanding he do so. He leaned down once more to press a loving kiss to your forehead, then your cheeks, your nose, and finally your lips. 

You sighed, head retreating back to his chest once your lips disconnected. Sadness was still swirling in your stomach and you just longed for the feeling that being in Peter's arms brought. He seemed to understand perfectly- as he always did- pressing his cheek to the top of your head and wrapping his arms tightly around you without a word. The two of you stood there for a while, bodies entangled as you continued lightly swaying back and forth. Peter's hands continued to roam up and down your spine and your tears began to slow and dry. 

Eventually you hummed, stepping back and up on your toes to press an appreciative kiss to Peter's face. He smiled as a faint pink tinted his cheeks at your display of affection. You giggled, slightly amazed that even after everything you two had done, something as simple as a peck on the cheek could still make him blush.

"Thank you," you said quietly, looking up into his eyes. He quirked an eyebrow at you in confusion. 

"For staying with me through all that. I mean it's you, so I wasn't really worried...but my dad can be really frightening. So thanks," you half joked. 

Peter chuckled lightly as he pulled you back into his arms once more. 

"Of course angel. Told you, I'm never going to leave you. Even if your dad is super scary. You two are stuck with me now. I'm never ever going to leave you or our baby," he vowed quietly into your hair as his hands reached down to rub the small but growing bump in your tummy lovingly. "We're gonna get through this all together, as a family."

You felt tears well up in your eyes once more, but this time out of sheer love and happiness.

 Damned hormones. 

"You're gonna be such a good daddy Peter," you whispered gratefully. Hearing the slight crack in your voice, Peter pulled you away from his chest gently to wipe your tear stained cheeks once more. 

"Hey now, no more tears today," he scolded playfully as he tugged you across the room. "When's the last time you ate something? We have the whole kitchen to ourselves now, and I bet my babies are hungry!"

You chuckled lightly as you allowed him to pull you along with him towards the kitchen. All the while, he chattered happily about the new article he'd just read about the specific nutritional needs pregnant women have, and your heart swelled at his thoughtfulness. You were still apprehensive about the upcoming conversation with your dads, but you were definitely feeling better. As much as their approval and involvement would mean to you, you'd come to the conclusion that as long as you had Peter by your side everything would work out alright. 

Somehow.

---------------------------

"Petey, are you sure you don't need any-"

"No! Nope. I've got this," your boyfriend interrupted stubbornly. You signed, hand absentmindedly rubbing across your swollen stomach as you watched him struggle with the latch on the new crib the two of you were setting up. 

Well, the crib that Peter was setting up. 

It'd been a few months since the team had found out about the newest upcoming addition to the Tower, and you'd decided that it was time to begin decorating the nursery. Tony, of course, had offered to have someone come in to do all the heavy lifting, but Peter was insistent that he be the one to set everything up. His protectiveness over you and the rapidly growing child you were carrying had only increased as the months went on, so much so that you were lucky now if he'd even let you stand for long enough to watch him put the baby's furniture together. It was endearing, really, how much he cared for the two of you, but you'd be lying if you said that you weren't becoming a little frustrated with how little you could do to help. 

"Really Peter, I can help," you grumbled, annoyed. "I'm pregnant, not disabled."

"Of course you could help angel, but I don't need help," he grunted, eyes never leaving the mass of parts around him. "You already have to do all the work of growing and housing our baby, the least I can do is build the crib!"

"Housing?" you teased, quirking an eyebrow.

"You know what I meant," he grumbled, and you couldn't help but chuckle at his growing frustration. 

Peter was clearly losing his grip just a bit as he struggled to make sense of the instructions that had been provided with the pieces. He sighed, throwing the pamphlet down on the ground before trudging over to where you stood, leaning against the changing table that he'd put together a few days ago. 

"I've engineered web-fluid from absolutely nothing, re-built computers from scratch and yet I can't even manage to put this stupid bed together," he whined as he dropped his head down onto your shoulder in defeat. "M'gonna be a terrible father."

"Ohhh bubs," you cooed sympathetically, smile falling quickly and heart lurching at the tone of pure dejection in his voice. 

You wrapped your arms around him, one snaking around his back and the other cradling his head. Your fingers began instantly carding through his chocolate-brown locks as he nuzzled his nose lightly into the junction of your neck and shoulder. His hands wound their way around your waist too- or as well as they could with your round tummy in the way- and his own hands began absentmindedly tracing patterns over your bump.

"Peter you have to know that isn't true," you soothed, kissing his cheek softly. "You're going to be an amazing dad."

He hummed non-commitally. 

"You think you're not?" you challenged, fingers halting their dance against his scalp. "Do the thing."

He raised his head from your shoulder, brows furrowed in confusion. 

"What does that have to do with-"

"Do the thing," you interrupted sternly. He sighed and knelt down, grumbling inaudible complaints as he went. Once he was face to face with your bump he placed his hands on either side, thumbs rubbing soft circles into your stretched-out skin.

"Hi baby, it's me, your daddy," he spoke softly into your stomach, lips so close that you shivered with each breath that ghosted over your clothed belly. "I love you so much."

The baby responded instantly at the sound of Peter's voice, feet jabbing out and kicking excitedly from within just underneath where his hands lay. You felt your heart skip a beat at both the feeling the movement in your belly and the sight of the dopey smile that lit up Peter's handsome face as he felt his child's kicks. You rubbed over his hands lovingly and smiled down at him.

"See bubs? He starts throwing a party in there every time you do that. He loves you so much already, that's not gonna change," you reassured him softly. Peter's smile dropped just a little. 

"But the crib-"

"Fuck the crib," you responded stubbornly. "You are the most caring, sweetest, and most thoughtful person I know Peter. You're going to be the world's best dad."

"Whoa whoa, believe we're the ones with the mugs that claim that title," a voice chuckled from the doorway. 

You smiled fondly, eyes darting to find the sight of your Pops leaning casually against the frame of the door with your dad standing just behind him. Both had amused smiles on their faces, and you grinned widely. Even Peter smiled as he rose to his feet and wrapped one of his arms around your back to pull you into his side. 

"Okay, third best dad in the world then," you amended, grinning. 

"That's better," your dad piped up, smiling. "Now what's this I hear about a faulty crib? Sam said he can hear Peter cursing all the way from his room."

Peter groaned, tilting his head backwards in exasperation as you laughed out loud. 

"It isn't faulty, I'm just an idiot," Peter grumbled. Everyone but him chuckled, and your dad walked further into the room. He clapped a hand on Peter's back as he grinned at the younger man. 

"Normally I'd agree with you, but I know if I do Steve will bring up how Y/N had to sleep in the bassinet for like 6 months because we couldn't figure out how to put her crib together."

"You mean you couldn't figure it out," your Pops snorted from his place in the doorway. "As I recall, I was not allowed to help with the furniture because you were determined to figure it out on your own."

Bucky shrugged, seemingly indifferent to his husband's insinuation. 

"Whatever. Point is, I wanted to see if you wanted some help putting it together. Thought I might be able to give you some tips," your dad continued. Peter's smile widened, and he nodded eagerly before your dad knelt down to help try and make sense of the directions.

The discussion after the incident in the training room had gone much better than you would've ever imagined. Both your dads had been relatively calm once they'd returned from their mission, and surprisingly there had been no screaming, no crying, and no threats towards Peter from Bucky like you'd been picturing. The four of you had sat down together and had a long, mature discussion of what your plans were in terms of raising and caring for your child, and by the end your dads had even seemed enthusiastic about the prospect of being grandparents. Their involvement and excitement had only grown in the following months to the point now that you felt silly for ever having been frightened to tell them. 

And now as you stood watching your boyfriend and dad work together to put your child's room together, tears began collecting in your eyes and you felt your chest warm with feelings of overwhelming love. Steve, noticing your tears, moved to wrap his arms around you and you leaned your head against his shoulder. Rubbing your belly lovingly, you couldn't help but feel a wave of gratitude wash over you for the men in your life and love for the little one that you'd all be meeting soon.