#Not an intentional thing I do sometimes I just accidentally open my eyes while fully asleep my uncle does it too it runs in the family

[my-chemical-rot]

Do you know how unnerving it is to wake up abruptly in the middle of the night finding yourself involuntarily muttering aloud “before it gets better darkness gets bigger the person that you’d take a bullet for is behind the trigger…” or “there’s a room in hotel New York City… shares our fate and deserves… pity…”

[kulemiwrites]

𝐀𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐚 𝐍𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐲𝐚𝐦𝐚 | 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀-𝐙

Rating: 18+ SMUTTY CONTENT Character(s): (After the Turn) Akira Nishikiyama Warning: When I do these, they act sort of as my guidelines that I follow for when I am writing smut of the character in question. Obviously, these are headcanons but some of these headcanons are lore heavy- based on things I’ve come up with over the years. Privately or publicly. If something seems out of character or doesn’t make sense to you, that may be why! I hope you can try to enjoy it anyway. There will be mentions of casual sex as well as sex within a committed relationship. Akira can be detached and mean. Bear in mind that while gender neutral pronouns and terms of endearment are used, this was written with female anatomy in mind. 

Using the following NSFW HEADCANON GAME by fairy-tail-babes

Read on AO3!

Read the 'Before The Turn' version if you haven't already. (or read it after this one as aftercare LOL)

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

At this point in his life, he’s at his most touch starved and emotionally unavailable. It’s a wicked combination and entirely self-inflicted. He’s not above bringing people to bed simply to relieve his pent up sexual frustration. He doesn’t even have to like the person as an individual, he just needs to be attracted to them enough to get whatever he’s built up out of his system. Once he’s done with them, he wants them out of his sight. He’ll point them to the nearest bathroom and send them on their way with a half-hearted mention of calling them some time. On the bright side (?), he’s not so cold with the person who manages to crack this newly hardened shell of his, though. He’s far more affectionate with the individual he’s got feelings for. He wants them as close to him as humanly possible after. Depending on his position, he might even take a while to pull out. He’d fully settle for going soft in them until he’s gotten his fill of their warm with plenty of greedy kisses in the meantime.  

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He doesn’t really have much of a favorite part of himself around this point. He’s sort of just going through the motions every day. He looks in the mirror and he sees a man staring back at himself that looks like him but is still somehow so unfamiliar. Most of his vanity is a farce. Even if there was a part of himself he did enjoy more than others, the nagging thought that there’s still room for improvement would drown his positives. 

He likes a nice back. A “nice” back doesn’t always necessarily mean toned and slender– When he thinks of a partner with an attractive back, he imagines pretty, clear skin that looks downright erotic when it’s coated in sweat, sometimes back dimples and especially a nice, deep arch– bonus points if that arch leads his eyes to a gorgeous ass. He tends to prefer that meaningless hook-ups face away from him, so that’s how he came to develop this appreciation. Even when he’s with a serious romantic interest, he’ll slip into backshots at some point just so he can show their back some love– licking it, kissing it and digging his nails into it depending on how far gone he is.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He’s pretty much always using a condom. He’s even less open to the idea of an accidental pregnancy than he was in the past (which is saying a lot). Not only that, just because he’s brought someone to bed doesn’t mean he trusts them. There are two instances in which he’d forego protection: 1.) he has genuine intent to try and knock this person up, or 2.) he feels so strongly about them that it’s shaken him up and he’s lost all logic. He’d be acting off pure urge and instinct, reaching for protection would disrupt that. Having said all of that, he does tend to snatch his condom off anyway when he’s about to cum and jerk himself off because he’s a painter. He’ll ensure his partner’s back is painted beautifully by the time he’s done with them. If he can’t get to their back, no worries, he’ll just give them a facial. Clenching their cheeks, he will simply command “Open.” then challenge himself to see how much he can actually get to land in their mouth.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He has a nice polaroid camera and the best home video camera money can buy and while it wasn’t the original intent behind the purchase, they certainly have become useful in the bedroom. He likes to record his partner and go back to the polaroids or videos he’s collected when he misses them or is just horny. His favorite types of pictures to take are when he has them press their head against the bed, floor, etc and arch until their ass is nice and high after he’s coated them in cum.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

While he doesn’t have as much sex these days as he did a while back, he’s garnered enough experience to know how to show someone a good time if he wanted to. That’s just the key word: Want. Sometimes he cares so little about the enjoyment of the other person and more so about getting off that, all of his previous experience is sorta irrelevant. 

F = Favorite Position (Links to literal porn. Use your own discretion.)

His favorite positions generally include him taking his partner from behind. Obviously, doggystyle is a classic and one can never go wrong with that. He likes them face down, ass up– many times while pressing their face into the sheets/pillow or whatever surface he’s fucking them against. Sometimes, he’ll rail them from behind while holding a fist full of their hair. If he’s feeling a little lazy or maybe just wanting to relinquish control for a bit, he may put them in reverse-cowgirl or the hotseat. When he’s wanting something closer and more intimate with his partner, he’d spoon them if he can or maybe try the flatiron.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

It takes a special kind of person to get him to smile or laugh while he’s getting busy. He sort of zones in and shuts out everything except the hole he’s fucking. If his partner is able to bring him out of that, and get him to even crack a smile, let alone laugh– well, color him intrigued. 

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He doesn’t keep himself as maintained as he used to. He’s not particularly hair down there anyway. The hair just grows kinda long and thick. He trims every once in a while but unless it’s hot out, he doesn’t care to stay on top of upkeep. Perhaps if he was in a committed relationship, he’d try to trim more regularly? 

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

Deep down, he has an intense craving for intimacy and love but he doesn’t look to satisfy those desires with just anyone. He could fuck someone and barely look them in the eye during or after. He is rigid when a hookup touches him– stiff, and other than to push/pull or smack them around, he’s not doing much touching himself. When he’s caressing his partner's hair/face/body, whispering things to them (no matter how sweet or downright filthy), guiding their face to have them meet his eyes, practically begging them to say his name and melting into their touch, they’ll know for sure that he’s absolutely smitten with them. He hates that he becomes so weak when he’s in love but, he’d be telling a bold faced LIE if he said he doesn’t secretly revel in it.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Work stresses him beyond belief, life even more so and sometimes his mind gets so cloudy and his shoulders so tense that he needs some quick relief to put him at ease. He’ll do it when he’s wound up but also when he’s immensely horny and cannot be bothered to deal with another person. 

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks -also adding fetishes-)

Impact play- He’s got a habit of slapping and smacking his partners while he’s fucking them. Be it their face or body– sometimes he just gets the itch to light them up and listen to them whine. 

Partialism- As previously mentioned, a pretty back can really get him squirming in his seat. If his partner is wearing something that showcases theirs, he won’t be able to keep his hands off of them and would be about ready to pounce the moment they have some time alone.

Pussy worship- While he doesn’t put as much effort into pleasing every person he beds, his love for pussy hasn’t gone away. He still craves the taste, smell and feeling of a pretty pussy against his tongue and face. Tasting his partners always brought out a side of him that he decided he should be a bit more selective with who he shows that to.

JOI- Especially over the phone when he can’t get to his partner– getting to hear their voice and have them tell him what to do really gets him going. While he’s certainly a brat about it, he likes it when they’re kinda bossy and mean. 

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Wherever the pants fall, this is something that has not and may never change. While he’s quick to get a room somewhere to handle his business or call his lover to his place, it’s not above him to have a romp or two in his office. In fact, if the desire strikes mid-day, he may summon his partner to his office just to take them against his desk and then send them back on their way. 

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Confidence, especially when said confidence keeps them from buckling under him. Someone who refuses to allow him to intimidate them. Everyday, he’s walking around on a constant power trip. Men duck their heads to him when he simply walks into a room. Women avert their eyes. He’s nearly forgotten what it’s like to not be taken seriously and while it may tick him off initially, he’d still find it interesting. He’d want to know what it would take to crack them. Another thing would be someone who isn’t afraid to try and take control. He prefers to be in control of everything but someone who fights against that– some who can tame him? He’d buckle.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Humiliation is a no go. While he is intrigued by someone who can take the reins and make him follow their lead from time to time, he draws the line at being made to feel small. The thing about temporarily surrendering to someone is knowing that when he wants to be in charge again, he can and will. Deep, deep down, no matter how hard of a face he puts on, he’s still that young, insecure boy inside. He’s not into anything that triggers those feelings. 

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

If he’s single, he’s definitely receiving more than he’s giving which sucks. Like, sure, he enjoys the feel of a warm tongue swirling around the head of his dick but nothing will ever compare to the pleasure he feels while fisting his dick as he eats out his s/o. He’s not sure when he stopped doing it as often as he used to but he knows why he did. He often mourns the feeling of having a sloppy, wet cunt gliding across his face, thighs trembling against his cheeks and when he can’t take it anymore and the craving is too severe, he does know who he can call to get it out of his system. Once he’s in a relationship or even just kinda getting serious about someone, he’s reminded of why he preserves his talent. He becomes a noisy, weepy mess when he’s thrusting into his fist at the same pace that he uses to fuck his lover with his tongue. It’s not uncommon for him to call his s/o to his office just so that he can kneel beside the desk he’s sat them on and absolutely go to town on them. Sometimes getting to go home to drown his face in his darling’s sweet pussy is all that’s keeping him going. 

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Sometimes he’s so rough, one may feel they’re being hatefucked by him. So often, he’s full of pent up rage that he just has to fuck it out. He’s yanking hair, biting, digging his nails into skin, spanking as if he intends to bruise. That’s why he makes sure his partner knows what they’re getting themselves into before he fucks them. Even when he’s ‘making love’ to someone, there’s still a level of intensity that is fierce as it is sensuous. 

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Not only can a quickie be all he has time for, sometimes it’s really all he wants. If his partner is cool with foregoing the buildup and dropping their underwear at a moment’s notice, then consider them his perfect match. 

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He’s open to a lot of things so long as it doesn’t include knocking up a random or has the potential to damage the perception of the Nishikiyama family name. 

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

His stamina is still pretty high. He can last for about as long as he’d like to last so long as he’s not too pent up and the sexual tension between him and his partner isn’t extremely thick. He’s got to want to last, though. When nothing but the need to bust a nut is what’s driving him, he can be done in 10 minutes or less. Once is enough in general, but the right significant other can bring the insatiability right out of him. 

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He likes to incorporate toys from time to time. He has toys that he owns that he’d use on his partners if they’re open to it and then he also sends toys along with lingerie as gifts, wrapped all pretty and topped with a bow that he’d like to see or hear them use on themselves. Vibrators are fun, he’s more open to dildos than he used to be but his favorite things to play with are those he uses to explore his interest in impact play: floggers, riding crops…whips. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He can certainly be a tease when he wants to be. His teasing borders on degradation given the right circumstances. He especially likes to tease when he’s treating his partner harshly and they’re lost with how much they’re enjoying. He loves to see it but his mouth would tell a different story. He’d tease them for enjoying being ragdolled and treated like a worthless fleshlight. He’d make them beg for more, or beg to cum, anything really. 

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

His volume is pretty moderate. He does a lot of grunting– moaning, when he’s really emotionally invested. He talks and he wants his partner to talk back to him. He’s urging them to tell him how he makes them feel, he wants to hear where his dick is, he’s commanding them to declare who they belong to and most importantly, he’s making them call his name. He’s probably at his most noisy when he’s performing oral. It’s the #1 surefire way to hear him moan like a bitch…It’s fascinating. It should be studied, truly.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

While he loves to see his partner dolled up in some sexy lingerie, something about them going out with no underwear turns him on beyond belief. Once, he took a girl to dinner and at some point during, she excused herself to the restroom. When she returned, she stuffed the panties she’d been wearing (the panties he’d bought for her) in his pocket. He had to spend the remainder of the dinner fighting the desire to dive beneath the table and between her legs to make her cry by riling him up like that. If he notices his partner has decided to forego underwear while they’re out and about, he won’t be able to keep his hands off of them. 

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He’s a bit over 4 ½ inches and girthy, with a tasteful upright curve from the center up. The shaft itself is a warm tan color but the head is bright pink. When he’s aroused, that pink appears more reddish. He may be on the smaller side but he knows exactly how to use it. He leaves his partners trembling after using that same 4 incher to abuse their g-spot. 

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He’s more stressed than he is horny. Many times he finds himself fucking with the intent to blow off some steam rather than because he was aroused. It often leaves him feeling empty. He notices that he feels genuinely more horny when he’s in a relationship and feels more fulfilled after sex with his s/o. Perhaps it’s because he allows himself to fully be in the moment that leaves him feeling recharged. He needs as much of that feeling as he can get.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’s teetering toward being an insomniac, so sex doesn’t wipe him out like it used to. He could fuck for like 45 minutes, sweat out his pomade and still be up for hours after he’s cum. If he’s fallen asleep shortly after sex, it’s likely because he feels so at peace when he’s with that person that the thoughts that usually swirl and plague his mind are drowned out by the sound of their voice and/or breathing.

Please do not reupload/repost/rewrite but reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated. Thank you for reading!

[noyasaur]

hi! I have a question abt shifting rq

so, basically yk how people mini-shift (or whatever its called)? I see some people’s story times on shifting, and alot of them say that they shifted for a few seconds, then shifted back. When i shift, i wanna stay there for a while, not just a few seconds. So, i was wondering if there was a way that i can not mini-shift and just shift for as long as i want (if that makes sense)

have a good day!

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

hihi anon! a lot of the times, when people 'mini-shift' it isn't always intentional and happens for a few reasons. sometimes when people are shifting, they become aware of their desired reality and open their eyes before they are 'fully aware' of their dr. they might visually see things in their mind's eye, hear sounds from their dr, smell things, or they may have even opened their eyes a bit too early. thus, allowing them to become aware of their desired reality, but since they haven't 'fully' become aware of everything in that reality and aren't grounded fully, it can bring shifters back to their original reality (by the way, i know there is no 'original' reality, but for the sake of this post and my explanation i will be using this term to refer to *this* reality).

the first thing i would recommend is whenever you're reality shifting and you start to notice your senses are being engaged with things from your desired reality, don't open your eyes just yet. allow yourself to keep going on with your method, staying calm, and just trusting the process.

trust yourself to open your eyes when you know you've fully shifted and in the meantime, keep focusing on those sensations and sounds on your desired reality and let yourself fully become aware of your dr, before you open your eyes too early.

this is why it can be helpful to script/set the intention that when you shift to your desired reality, you will automatically open your eyes! or even script an indicator like something you will smell or hear to know when to open your eyes! for example, you could script that when you fully shift, you will hear your alarm clock going off. that way it's a guarantee for sure that you know you're fully in your dr and when you open your eyes, there's no chance you shifting back unintentionally to your or!

another thing that is important to do when you first shift is grounding! grounding is super helpful to allow yourself to stay aware and tethered to your desired reality and not allowing for accidental shifts back. it allows yourself to fully immerse yourself in your currently reality and stay there.

it's pretty easy to do so; once you've arrived in your desired reality, try and stay as calm as possible. look around and take notice of what you can see; walk around and start touching and feeling things. interact with your environment. what do you smell? what can you taste? what can you hear?

also, even just having the intention that you won't shift back to your original reality and you will stay aware of this reality for however long you want is enough to stay there longer for a few seconds. it's all about trusting yourself and being confident in your intentions.

once you are in your desired reality, you can stay for however long as you like! just trust yourself and don't worry about shifting back; enjoy your time in your desired reality and trust yourself enough to KNOW that you won't be shifting back and you can and will stay in your desired reality for however long you like :D

i hope this helped!! have a great day and good luck with shifting!!!

- saturn ♡

[rin-itoshi]

mc’s departure | obey me

summary: how the brothers would react to MC returning to the human world after a year in the devildom

contains: fluff , angst , ?!!!!&;@;&:idk

♯ LUCIFER

he’s the one to see you off, reminding you of the many things he had taught you so that you’d never forget.

his pride is much too large to admit that he will miss you to death and that he loves you dearly.

after you’re gone, he’s gone for hours at a time, holed up in his room with as much as work as he can take on.

he overworks himself with the intention of getting rid of the heavy emotion on his heart.

everything reminds you of him, even the paper clip on his desk that you had once found under his bed.

he gets easily irritable, feeling rather empty now that you’ve gone and left him alone in this now quiet house.

barely leaves his room, only works.

never cries but gets quite emotional when he finds a belonging you left behind.

♯ MAMMON

he cried every single night up until your departure but never showed you that side of him once

after you left, he cried non-stop, not caring if he looked like a cry baby in front of his brother’s who watched him with pitiful eyes.

once his eyes dried up, he soon never returned home as he partied all day and night.

he forced himself to attend parties after parties in order to forget about you.

it never works because everything reminds him of you.

sometimes he sits in his car and just stares into space, wondering what you’re doing now that you’re back on earth.

literally cannot stand the mention of you or your name or he may break down.

pretends to be okay but can’t go a day without getting upset about your absence.

money soon becomes pointless when he realizes no amount of cash will bring you back to the house of lamentation.

♯ LEVIATHAN

curled up in his bath tub and cried himself to sleep.

stopped leaving his room in general, continuously playing games all day and night.

couldn’t look at his ruri-chan figures because they somehow reminded him of you and how much you used to admire them with him.

every inch of his room has your touch on it and it makes his heart ache painfully.

struggles to attend online school but manages to make it through the day by zoning out in class.

claims he doesn’t care about a normie like you but genuinely misses you

sends you messages, forgetting you can no longer contact him without your D.D.D

writes about how much he misses you on his blog fully aware you’ll never see it.

♯ SATAN

reading. that’s all he does.

he hides in his room and reads every single book he has stacked up along his room, even rereading them if he finished everything.

uses books to get his mind off of you—or more so the lack of you.

will sometimes get excited about a stray cat he sees but stops himself when he realizes he can’t tell you because you aren’t here.

gets angry. a lot.

the smallest things set him off and he can longer feign a smile when he hears your name or anything related to you.

he misses you so much that he wants to tear out his hair and rip apart all these book page by page.

his room is in shambles and he can’t seem to think straight anymore.

♯ ASMODEUS

loses his interest in everything.

forgets his skin care routine and lets himself go without caring about it.

forces himself to go to parties and tries to sleep with someone to feel better but when it fails, he stops sleeping around in general.

like mammon, he doesn’t come home often to avoid seeing the house he had lived in with you happily.

cannot forget about you no matter what he does, and that frustrates him the most.

wishes he had done something to stop you or at least slept beside you one last time.

neglects himself for a while.

♯ BEELZEBUB

poor bby isn’t hungry for once.

can’t seem to eat now that you’re not sitting beside him, giggling about something he had said.

spends a lot of his time doing weight training and exercising to get his mind off of you.

misses all the meals you used to make on the nights you were in charge of cooking.

sometimes forgets you’re not around whenever he’s about to go downstairs to eat dinner.

clings to belphie in hopes to fill the gap in his heart.

accidentally broke down your room door in an angry fit when your absence finally set in.

♯ BELPHEGOR

either he sleeps even more or somehow gets less sleep.

no matter what, he feels sluggish and blank.

locks himself in the attic, almost as if he was never released in the first place.

even though he hated humans, your absence affected him the most after he had grown to love you as a human.

nearly went demon mode on diavolo when he found out that you were being sent back to the human world.

partially wishes he never met you but cherishes his memories with you too much to ever wish for that wholeheartedly.

sleeps in your bed often to hold onto your lingering scent that was fading quickly.

complains to beel that you were nothing but a stupid human who turns their backs on demons like them, but he never means anything he says.

“Why is it so quiet in here?” Diavolo asks as he opens the front door of the House of Lamentation with Barbatos at his side. The man’s golden eyes scanned the entry hall, noticing how it was so eerily dark and quiet that it almost felt like something out of a horror movie. It felt like no one had lived here in over two thousand years. “Hello?”

Upon receiving message from Diavolo, everyone had exited their rooms for the first time in a while, looking like they were dragged through the mud. The state they were in made Diavolo jump with surprise, shocked to find that even Lucifer looked like he was ill. “What happened to you guys?!”

“What is it that you need, Lord Diavolo?” Lucifer asked as he ran a hand through his hair to compose himself a bit in front of the red haired man. “If is nothing important, may I kindly ask you to leave and return another time?”

Diavolo sighed, shaking his head lightly as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t know what’s up with you guys, but I brought everyone’s favorite person along with me so sing your praises now!”

Mammon huffed, “If ya’ talking about that butler of yours, ain’t nobody care right now! We got bigger things to worry about!”

Barbatos simply smiled, taking no offense to the sly insult thrown his way.

Diavolo cocked a brow in confusion. “What? Of course not! It’s-“

The person stepped out from behind Diavolo, catching the attention of every single male in the room. The seven brother’s choked, staring at the one person they had longed for these past few days.

“[y/n]!” They shouted in unison, practically flying down the stairs to get to you. Mammon was the first to reach you, wrapping his arms around your entire body as he tackled you to the floor. The other brother’s climbed on top of you two, hugging you so tightly that you feared this would be where you’d die. “You’re back!”

Diavolo chuckled boisterously. “This is amusing! You lot are acting like you didn’t know they’d return today!” His laugh came to an abrupt stop when he saw the flat expressions coming from each and every brother. “Oh- Did I not inform you?”

“Obviously you didn’t.” Belphegor scoffed with a roll of the eyes, burying his face in the crook of your neck to inhale your scent. “[y/n]...”

“Ya can’t ever leave again! I’ll seriously get angry at ya if this happens again! Ya either go to the human world with me or ya don’t go at all!” Mammon snapped, cupping your cheeks while getting dangerously close to your face to yell at you.

“I’ll severely punish you if you ever leave this manor without giving me a heads up as to where you’re off to. You’re not just an exchange student anymore. You’re special.” Lucifer explained, a panicked glint in his tired eyes as he reached out to pat your head gently with his gloved hand.

Satan sighed, pressing his forehead against your back. “If you leave again, I don’t know if I’ll be able to control my emotions, so don’t leave.”

The avatar of lust whined loudly, “my beautiful self can’t handle a life without you! Don’t ever go anywhere without me again!” He clutched onto her waist tightly.

“Don’t... Don’t go anywhere.” Leviathan said with a sad frown on his lips as he held your hand, bringing it up to rest against his cheek. “It’s so empty without you.”

“Let’s eat dinner together, [y/n].” Beel suggested, his voice full of emotions as he drooled at the thought of dinner with you.

A million emotions ran through your veins as you sat there, basking in the warmth of their touch. It was overwhelming to receive so much love all at once but it was amazing.

A smile slowly crept onto your lips as you leaned into their touch, enjoying the way they clung to you as if you’d disappear any moment now. “I missed you guys, too.”

“What a lovely reunion!” Diavolo exclaimed happily, snapping a view blurry photos on his D.D.D to send to the group chat later.

After the heartfelt moment, they quickly disappeared upstairs to fix up their appearance before rushing downstairs to the kitchen where you stood. They clung to you like bugs to a light, hounding you about your sudden departure, only to find out that you had gone up there with Diavolo and Barbatos to help the man experience human world activities he had never gotten to try before. Diavolo was sure he had told them that but seeing as they were genuinely distressed, he assumed the message never reached.

Even though they were beyond pissed with Diavolo and his carelessness, they were just glad you were back. Them being here with you really was their idea of a perfect life.

a/n: UH YEA K GOODNIGHT

[bluejayblueskies]

For the Touches Ask Game, if you can, a little Jonmartin with Touching/9?

Thank you so much, I love your writing!!! 😭💕

touches prompt list

9 - holding hands across the table

i did a season two lunch dinner date fic! cw for mentions of paranoia/stalking and murder (in typical s2 fashion)

.

They’ve been having lunch together for two months when Martin asks, with enough stuttering that it takes Jon a moment to process his words, if Jon would like to get dinner with him.

Jon hesitates only briefly before agreeing. Between finding out about Martin’s CV and the newly delivered CCTV footage, he’s almost entirely convinced that Martin did not, in fact, murder Gertrude Robinson and that his various attempts to make sure Jon eats and sleeps and drinks tea are simply a result of Martin being… well. Being nice, he supposes. If overbearingly so.

Why Martin feels the need to coddle Jon, he doesn’t quite know. But if he’s being honest with himself, he’s… not complaining. His frequent skipping of meals often isn’t an intentional thing, born instead of his tendency to get so wrapped up in his work that hours fly by without him noticing, and while sometimes he’s irritated when his flow is interrupted by Martin’s cheery greeting, more often than not it’s… a relief. To step out of the Archives, away from the feeling of eyes on the back of his neck, and pretend like he isn’t working alongside a murderer.

Maybe a murderer. He… he doesn’t know. According to the CCTV footage, Tim and Sasha and Martin and Elias all have alibis. But he still can’t shake the feeling that he gets, sitting in his office or walking down the corridors or reading through statements, that something isn’t right.

That there’s something in the Archives that’s not supposed to be there.

So, it’s… nice to get outside. And as much as Tim may joke about it—or… used to joke about it, at least—Jon does, in fact, try to eat three square meals a day if he can remember to do so. Try being the operative word. He’s been… caught up in work lately, and often he glances at the clock to see that it’s well past ten and he’s accidentally skipped dinner entirely. He hadn’t thought Martin had noticed, given that the man doesn’t live in the Archives anymore and typically leaves promptly at five along with Tim and Sasha, but evidently, he was wrong.

As Jon sits across the table from Martin at the small café they’ve chosen for lunch, he has the fleeting thought that Martin’s been sneaking back and watching him work and that’s how he knows that Jon has been missing dinner. He lets himself feel it, takes a deep breath, and pushes it away with considerable effort. No, that’s not… he trusts Martin. He does. Or he… he wants to. He’s trying.

“Jon?”

“Hm?” Jon blinks up at Martin, who’s clearly waiting for a response. “Sorry, I-I didn’t catch that.”

Martin’s cheeks are dusted a rosy red. He fiddles nervously with the black ring on his finger—a bit thicker in width than Jon’s, the metal smooth and bright where it reflects the sunlight. “Is—is this Friday okay? At—at seven? I-I can, um, meet you at the Institute. U-Unless you’d like to meet there! That’s, er. That’s fine with me too.”

“The Institute is fine,” Jon says, picking at his sandwich with a frown. The bread is damp and squishes under his fingers. “Perhaps we can go somewhere a bit less… soggy.”

“R-Right, yeah. I, um. I was actually thinking… you know that new bistro o-over in Clapham? M-Maybe not, it’s, er. It’s new. But I-I heard it has good South Asian food, which, um. I know you like.”

Martin’s face is fully crimson by this point. Maybe we should sit inside next time, Jon thinks. Or at least in the shade. The sun is rather intense. Martin picks up his mug of tea and takes a long sip, staring resolutely down at the table once he’s done. Jon waits, but it appears that Martin is done rambling, so he says, “Yes, that sounds fine.” Then, because it’s polite (and not untrue): “I am… looking forward to it.”

“O-Oh? Oh!” Martin looks at him, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Y-Yeah, um. M-Me too.”

We should definitely sit inside next time, Jon thinks as the back of his neck grows warm, the tips of his ears surely darkening. Good lord.

He doesn’t think the heat is responsible for the way Martin’s smile makes something in his stomach flutter. He decides to blame that on the atrocious sandwich because… well. It’s as convenient an excuse as any.

Because Martin is just looking out for Jon’s wellbeing. This is no different than him bringing mugs of tea when Jon is recording statements or accompanying him to A&E to get stitches after Michael or inviting him to lunch in the first place. This is not, he tells his ridiculous, over-zealous, butterfly-filled stomach, a date.

Because it’s not. Martin is simply a coworker—an employee—and a friend. Who he trusts. Maybe. Probably. And thinks about sometimes when he’s unoccupied. His hands, mostly, which look very soft and very capable. His smiles as well, each one like a gift meant just for Jon. The way he carries the heavier boxes that Jon can’t quite manage and can reach the top shelves to retrieve statements without even having to clamber up onto the bottom ones.

All completely normal thoughts to be having about a friend

So, when Jon wears the soft maroon button-down on Friday that he’s been told brings out his eyes and takes care to arrange his hair into something other than the haphazard braid he’s been managing lately and digs a bottle of peach nail varnish out of the bottom of his drawer the night before to coat his fingernails with, it’s just because he feels like it. Not because this is a date. Because it’s not a date. It’s just dinner. With Martin.

Who shows up to the Institute at quarter to seven wearing a nicer jumper than usual—cable-knit and mustard yellow, looking incredibly soft to the touch—and with small black studs decorating the lobes of his ears. He smiles widely when he sees Jon, also standing outside earlier than agreed upon, and Jon almost turns around to see if someone’s behind him. But there isn’t. That smile, unfettered and full of joy—it’s… it’s for him.

Surely, Martin is just… happy to see him leaving the office while it’s still light out for once. He’s certainly chided Jon enough times for his habit of falling asleep at his desk. (Which he’s been trying to do less lately, if only because it would be easy for someone to sneak up on him while he’s unconscious and slip a knife into his back or poison his tea or shoot him three times in the chest or—)

“R-Ready to head out?” Martin says, abruptly halting Jon’s train of thought. He tries not to look like he’d just been theorizing about his own inevitable demise as he mumbles his assent and follows Martin away from the Institute and into the still-bustling streets of London.

And if he presses close to Martin’s side while they walk, well. It’s just because every brush of unfamiliar contact against him feels overwhelming, enough so to make him flinch away. And if he takes Martin’s hand for a small period of time, well. It’s just because the crowd has thickened and he doesn’t want them to get separated. And if he feels particularly warm in his jacket when Martin laughs awkwardly at his own joke and rubs at the back of his neck, well. That’s just from exertion. It is quite a far walk to the restaurant.

The bistro is lovely. Jon typically doesn’t go for places like this—tucked between two nondescript buildings with a glass front that reveals soft, intimate lighting within and flowers planted in boxes outside—but once they’re inside and seated at their table, it’s… oddly charming. Jon shrugs out of his jacket, and even though it’s the same shirt he’s been wearing all day, Martin compliments him on it with a flush. The change from frigid winter air to the warmth of the bistro brings heat to Jon’s face as well, and he rolls up the cuffs of his sleeves to just below his elbows. Martin makes a choking sound, but when Jon looks up with a frown, he has his glass of water pressed to his lips.

“Sorry,” Martin says once he’s placed the glass back on the table. “Just, um. Uh. Tickle in my throat. A-Allergies, you know.”

Martin’s face pinches in what looks like a repressed wince, and Jon tries to be reassuring. After all, Martin is taking time out of his schedule to be here with Jon, and Jon doesn’t want to seem ungrateful. His grandmother taught him proper manners, and besides, he is… rather glad to be here.

His commiseration about his own experiences with seasonal allergies turns into a mini-lecture on the species of pollen-producing plants in their area. He only realizes he’s doing it when the waiter comes by with a cheery smile and asks if they’re ready to order.

Jon’s mouth snaps shut mid-sentence. He has not even opened his menu.

“I. Um.” Jon is about to ask for more time—which he strongly dislikes doing, as he’s had the waiting staff forget more than once about his table and he’s had to go through the mortifying ordeal of hailing them down like a-a bloody taxi—when Martin tilts his own menu toward Jon and points to an item in the middle of the page.

“They have chicken karahi and naan. I, er. I heard it’s good if you’re… interested.”

Jon blinks at the menu in surprise. “That… sounds great, actually. Er, medium spice, please.”

Martin orders his own squash curry, and the waiter takes their menus when he departs, leaving the spot in front of Jon oddly empty. Jon taps his fingers on the newly barren tabletop a few times, trying and failing to remember where he’d left off in his lecture. Ultimately, he gives up, deciding that Martin isn’t going to be interested in hearing about all of that and he’s already said enough on the subject.

Then, Martin says, “So, you were saying—about the pollen?” and something in Jon’s chest squeezes, an emotion he doesn’t know the name of. Relief, maybe, as Martin’s words manage to spark his memory and he picks up his train of thought again easily enough. Yes, that’s… that’s probably it.

The first few times they’d gone to lunch, Jon had made an effort to stop himself from rambling, as he was prone to do any time someone gave him the opportunity. He’d engrossed himself in his sandwiches and rice bowls and mediocre Chinese takeaway in order to keep from launching into an explanation of the origins of said folding takeaway containers or the documentary he’d watched recently about the Zhou dynasty. And the first few lunches had been… awkward. It wasn’t because Jon thought Martin was a murderer—he doesn’t think he’d have agreed to go for lunch if he truly believed that Martin might harm him. It was just… how things like this went when Jon was involved. He knows he struggles with casual conversation, and he’s never understood the purpose or execution of ‘small talk.’ He would be perfectly content to eat and exist in silence, except all too often he feels expected to provide some sort of conversation or entertainment, upon which point the silence becomes horribly oppressive and stress-inducing.

But he also knows that talking too much can be just as bad as not talking enough. His grandmother had always told him so. So he suffered through the awkward silences for the first few days, and Martin had let him, clearly assuming that if Jon wasn’t speaking, he shouldn’t either.

Then, around their fourth or fifth lunch together, Martin had begun to ask him questions. They were casual, genuine, and so clearly targeted at Jon’s interests that Jon was convinced that Martin was somehow following him home or searching through his computer history or—or something. On their eighth lunch together, Martin asked Jon about the newest exhibit at the museum—it had been about sharks, if Jon remembers correctly—and Jon couldn’t help asking how Martin knew that he’d gone to see it. He hadn’t explicitly asked if Martin had been following him, but he’s sure the sentiment was clear in his eyes.

The tips of Martin’s cheeks had grown red, and he’d said that Jon had mentioned a few days prior that he was planning on going. All traces of fear and paranoia had left Jon’s mind then, replaced by surprise and, beneath it, something warm and bubbly. Martin had remembered.

Their conversations had gotten a lot easier after that.

Despite how Martin seems to enjoy Jon’s long-winded tangents, he… does still make an effort not to hold a completely one-sided conversation. So, a few minutes into the continuation of his pollen discussion, he finds a natural stopping point and says, “So, er. You… like being outside?”

Not the most… articulated question Jon has ever asked. But Martin doesn’t seem to mind. His fingers curl around the bottom of his water glass, his palms smudging the condensation. “Yeah, w-when I can find the time, I suppose. I-I try to go for walks around my neighborhood if I can, if it’s not too dark by the time I get home, and there’s this park in—”

Martin cuts off with a small cough. He lifts his glass and takes a long sip, while Jon sits and drums his fingers against the table and tries not to bounce his leg too noticeably. “Sorry,” Martin says as soon as the glass leaves his lips, giving Jon an apologetic smile that somehow seems… artificial. Like it’s been plastered atop another, heavier expression. “S-Something in my throat again.” He hesitates, then continues, “There’s a park in Devon that I-I like, whenever I’m in that area.”

Devon’s quite a trip away, Jon thinks but doesn’t say. Why do you go to Devon? he doesn’t say. Is that where you go on Saturdays? he doesn’t say, because—well. It’s rather embarrassing, among other things, to admit to the fact that you’ve gone through your employee’s desk calendar because you thought he might have shot an old woman three times in the chest and had plans to do the same to you. Particularly when you are having dinner with said employee.

Ugh. Probably best not to think about the fact that he is technically Martin’s boss when he’s sitting three feet away from him at a candlelit table on what, to an outside observer, might look startlingly similar to a date.

But it’s not a date. Because Martin didn’t say it was a date, and he’s just trying to care for Jon, in that… over-the-top way that he does. Jon tries to muster up some irritation at the reminder that he’s likely being coddled, just for habit’s sake, but comes up empty.

He hasn’t been truly irritated with Martin in quite some time. He… doesn’t really know when that changed. When Martin became a source of comfort, rather than of annoyance.

“Jon?” Martin says. Right. Martin is still sitting across from him.

“Right,” Jon says, trying to sound like he hasn’t been drifting off in a hundred different directions. “That sounds… nice.”

Martin’s lips curl up into a small smile. “Yeah. I-It is. It, um. It makes the trip worth it, to be able to sit on one of the benches and just… write poetry.”

Jon has read some of Martin’s poetry, though Martin doesn’t know that. Jon doesn’t like poetry. Jon liked Martin’s poetry. These are, apparently, two truths that can and do coexist.

Jon does not mean to say, “Could I hear one?” But it appears that he is weary enough and relaxed enough and distracted enough that his verbal filter has small, critical holes in it. Damn.

Martin sputters. “U-Um, well, I-I suppose… I could, I-I do have a few, er. M-Memorized, if you—you really…” He trails off uncertainly. “You’re. Um. You’re sure?”

Well. Nothing to do but lean into it, Jon supposes. “I wouldn’t have asked if I weren’t sure, Martin,” he says, a bit snippier than he intends. The tips of his ears are hot, and he is deeply thankful that the dimness of the bistro hides the way they’re surely darkening.

“R-Right.” Martin clears his throat, looks down at the table. “I-I suppose I’ll just… do a short one?”

He proceeds to recite, in quiet, surprisingly stutterless lines, one of the poems that Jon already knows from the notebooks he’d left behind in the Archives. It’s… his favorite, if he were forced to pick one. But there is something different—something more—about hearing Martin speak the words aloud rather than simply reading them on a page. Martin pauses in places Jon hadn’t thought to pause, lingers on words he hadn’t thought to linger on, and adds a softness to the ends of lines and phrases that Jon finds himself enraptured by.

Logically, he knows that it’s not good poetry. He’d begrudgingly taken a poetry class during uni, had hated every minute of it, and had donated all of his books to charity shops the moment he wasn’t in need of them anymore. He’s read Dickens and Poe and Whitman—all the works that are considered great representations of their art form.

Martin’s poetry is nothing like theirs. His lines don’t follow the same rhythms; his words are clumsier, his images less profound. But still, even though Jon knows that it is technically not good poetry, he… he likes it.

He tries not to analyze that feeling too closely.

“So, um. Yeah,” Martin says after he finishes, rubbing his thumb over his ring. “I-It’s not really… great work, heh, you know, s-sorry.”

Jon is not the comforting sort. He’s been told that he’s too sharp at the edges, skin too full of spines and thorns. So he surprises himself, and probably his grandmother from beyond the grave, when he reaches across the table and takes Martin’s hand in his. It’s soft and big, the pads of Martin’s fingers lightly calloused from a past history of manual labor, and Jon thinks just for a moment how small his own hands look in Martin’s. He surprises himself even more when he says, honestly, “I enjoyed it, Martin.”

Martin blinks at him, eyes wide and owlish. His hand is rigid in Jon’s, like he’s afraid that if he moves, he’ll frighten Jon away like a skittish cat. “O-Oh.” It’s hard to tell in the dim light, but Jon thinks Martin might be blushing. “Well. T-Thanks.”

Jon nods once stiffly. He does not retract his hand. At first, it’s because he doesn’t think to do so, too wrapped up in the feeling of his skin against Martin’s. Then, it’s because it’s been long enough that doing so would be more awkward than keeping his hand there. He asks Martin about the inspiration behind the poem, for want of another conversation topic, and Martin talks about the trip he took to the countryside once and how it stuck with him, and Jon’s hand remains atop Martin’s. Martin takes a drink from his glass, and Jon takes a drink from his, but both of them use their free hands, as if in unspoken agreement that this is just how things are now. Jon’s hand is resting atop Martin’s and it will be until he has just cause to move it and that is just the way of the universe. Nothing to be done about it.

Their food comes, and looking extremely regretful about the fact, Martin extracts his hand from underneath Jon’s and reaches for his fork. They don’t mention the loss, and it’s quiet for a period of time while Jon eats his chicken karahi and Martin eats his squash curry and Jon tries not to openly moan at how good the food is.

Something must show on his face, because Martin smiles warmly at him and says, “Well? Was that Yelp reviewer correct when they said that the chicken karahi is ‘literally the best food they’ve ever eaten in their entire life’?”

Jon swallows a bite of admittedly very good chicken. “Well. I don’t know that I would quite go to that extreme, but it is rather enjoyable.” Reminds me of the way my grandmother used to make it, he doesn’t say. That feels like a date conversation, and this isn’t a date.

(It feels very much like a date.)

(It isn’t a date.)

“Good,” Martin says. Then, he smiles, wide and unabashed and like a ray of sunlight, and Jon quickly buries himself in his food again so he doesn’t say something foolish like I really like it when you smile at me like that or Is this a date? or I would very much like this to be a date.

They finish eating, and the waiter takes away their plates with the promise of bringing the check soon. Jon’s hands rest on the table, index finger fiddling with the edge of the cloth placemat in front of him. He’s in the middle of trying to convince himself that yes, it would be ridiculous to take Martin’s hand again, you should definitely not do that on this very much not-a-date, when Martin reaches out and takes Jon’s hand in his. Properly takes it, pressing their palms together and slotting his fingers easily between Jon’s and knocking their rings together as he squeezes gently.

“Um,” Jon says eloquently. He should very much not ask if this is a date. “What are you doing?”

Nope, that’s worse. That’s definitely worse.

“Oh!” Martin lets go of Jon’s hand immediately, and Jon does not try to chase Martin’s hand as it retracts, thank you very much. He’s more dignified than that. “S-Sorry, I thought… I, um. Never mind. I-I shouldn’t have… sorry. Again.”

“It’s fine,” Jon finds himself saying. Then, in an effort to do damage control: “I… didn’t mind.”

“You… didn’t?” Martin seems confused, which is understandable. If Georgie were here, she’d tell him that he’s giving, quote, ‘mixed signals.’ He’d never quite understood what counts as ‘mixed signals,’ and he doesn’t know that he ever will.

“I did not,” Jon confirms. “I just… I suppose I…”

He should not ask if this is a date. He really, really shouldn’t.

“Is this a-a date?”

It appears he’s found another one of the holes in his verbal filter. Lovely.

Martin’s eyes grow impossibly wider. He makes a series of sputtering sounds as Jon waits and tries not to bounce a hole through the floor with the heel of his foot. “You—you didn’t…” Martin seems to have a miniature internal debate with himself, his face cycling through a dozen different expressions over the next few seconds. Finally, he sighs and says, eyes fixated on the table between them, “I had… intended it to be. Though I suppose if—if you didn’t know it was a date, that. Um. Kind of defeats the purpose.”

“Does it?” Jon’s mouth says without his permission.

“I-I mean… you can’t really have a one-sided date,” Martin says with an awkward laugh. The waiter is nowhere to be seen, which Jon is grateful for and disheartened by in equal measure. This situation would certainly be easier with a convenient escape.

“I… suppose.” Jon worries at the edge of the placemat, pulling on a loose thread. “Though, it’s… if this were a date—or, I suppose, if I-I’d known it was meant to be a date—I… wouldn’t have acted much differently.” He pulls harder at the thread, feeling a bit bad for the way the fabric bunches around it. “I… would not have been… that is to say, I would have liked it if… rather, to say that I didn’t think about it would be, er… well, incorrect.”

Martin stares at him, clearly unable to make sense of Jon’s admittedly disjointed, half-finished sentences. Jon sighs and says, under his breath, “I am not opposed to considering tonight a date.”

Martin’s cheeks are red enough now that Jon can see the flush, even in the dim light. “U-Um. What?”

“I am not opposed,” Jon repeats, louder, “to considering tonight a date.” Lord, that’s mortifying to say out loud. How do people do this? To emphasize his point, he sticks his hand out, palm-up on the table. It’s stiff and awkward and he probably looks like a cat with its hackles raised. He focuses on the cable knit of Martin’s jumper so he doesn’t have to see whatever amused or mocking or disappointed expression is on Martin’s face as he realizes just how bad Jon is at all of this.

Martin is quiet for a moment. Then, just as Jon is about to pull his hand away and flee for the exit, he feels a touch against his palm. Martin’s hand settles tentatively atop his—not weaving their fingers together, not even properly holding it, just… pressing together, palm to palm. Jon can feel Martin’s heartbeat faintly against the tips of his fingers where they press against the inside of Martin’s wrist. “Okay,” Martin says softly, like Jon has just given him a precious gift. “Then it’s a date.”

It’s a date. Jon’s skin has absolutely no reason to prickle at those words, nor does his stomach have any reason to squeeze and sprout butterflies. He nods, a bit brusquely, and opens his mouth to say something—god knows what—when the waiter appears next to their table, somehow having both comically bad and impossibly good timing.

Martin pays, despite Jon’s insistence that he can cover his own share, and then they’re back out in the cool night air, making their way toward the tube station. The first few minutes are quiet. There’s a tension between them that feels more anticipatory than awkward. Their hands brush once, twice. Then, on the third time, Martin hooks his fingers around Jon’s and clasps his hand in his, and Jon lets out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

They hold hands all the way to the tube station, up until they have to part ways to take separate lines. Jon runs through all the things that he thinks he’s supposed to say in a situation like this—I had fun tonight or We should do this again sometime or… something—but ends up saying instead, “How long have you…?”

He trails off, squeezing Martin’s hand a few times thoughtlessly, like a warm, bony stress ball. Martin seems to infer the rest of his question, however, because he squeezes Jon’s hand in return and says, “It’s… new for me too, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Jon nods and squeezes Martin’s hand again. He thinks that’s going to become quite a habit if they keep this up. “Right.”

Martin hesitates, before letting his grip on Jon’s hand loosen slightly. “We… we don’t have to do this again if you don’t want to. I-I know things are complicated right now, and I…” He worries his bottom lip between his teeth. “I want to do this again, for… for what it’s worth. But I get it. If you don’t, that is. For—for any reason.”

“I do,” Jon says, surprising himself with his conviction. “I-I don’t… you’re right. Things are… complicated.” That’s certainly a word for it. “But I… I trust you, Martin. O-Or… I want to trust you.” He takes a deep breath. “I am making the decision to trust you.” It’s hard and it’s terrifying and there’s an animal instinct deep within Jon that’s telling him not to expose his vulnerable side, but… somehow, despite all of that, Martin makes him feel… well. Not safe, but as close to safe as he can get right now. Which is an accomplishment in its own right.

Martin exhales slowly and gives Jon a small, hesitant smile. “Thank you. I-I know that’s difficult, and I…” Martin squeezes Jon’s hand, just once. “I-I’m happy.”

And Jon finds that he means it when he says softly, “I’m happy too.”

Martin gets on his train, and Jon gets on his. And despite the ever-present itching beneath his skin and the persistent belief that something isn’t right and the knowledge that he is likely a hunted man, from the moment he lets go of Martin’s hand to the moment he closes his eyes and curls onto his side in bed, that happiness remains.

[ticklishfiend]

Strawberry Milk (My Hero Academia)

Ship : Lee!Bakugou Ler!Kirishima (Kiribaku)

A/N : this took forever to make and it's the longest fic i've posted on this account so far, but i just had a lot of fun making it!! i hope you guys enjoy it, especially the lovely krbk anon who inspired this. they actually sent a few prompts that have inspired other krbk tickle fic ideas that i'll more than likely write for soon as well, but for now i hope you enjoy this!! much love <33

Summary : Kirishima stays for a sleepover at Bakugou’s childhood home, and after accidentally pissing off the explosive teen, seeks out some professional help from someone who may know the boy best: his father. From this, Kirishima learns a quick way from the boys childhood to get him forgiveness in no time.

Word Count : 5113 (jfc lmao)

REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED!! MWAH <33

. . .

“Are you seriously mad at me over this?” Kirishima asked with a confused, breathy chuckle. He watched as his best friend pouted with arms crossed over his chest like a child, glaring daggers into the redhead from his spot on the bed.

“Yes. And I do not plan on changing that. So don’t fucking try me, Spiky Hair” Bakugou turned his body fully away from Kirishima now, who was lounged rather comfortably on Bakugou’s orange beanbag seated on the ground. Kirishima rolled his eyes at Bakugou’s childishness, though still couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty.

After months of practically having to beg the explosive teen for a sleepover at his childhood home, the blonde finally relented and allowed Kirishima to be a guest in his home for the weekend. Bakugou’s parents were actually pretty happy to have Bakugou back at the house, even if for such a short period of time, and were even more thrilled when they realized someone actually wanted to come with him. Bakugou was never really one for making (and keeping) close friends growing up, so this was something they were definitely excited over the prospects of.

He and Bakugou had been playing video games for the past couple of hours now, their most recent game that Bakugou was now practically fuming over being...Minecraft. Bakugou had gotten pretty attached to a wolf he unsurprisingly named “Prince Homicide,” but after bringing it to a cave while mining with Kirishima, the red-head had accidentally pushed it into a vat of lava, killing it almost instantly.

So that’s where the pair were now. Bakugou seething from his spot criss-crossed on the bed, now turned away from Kirishima with his arms crossed like a child towards the wall. Kirishima sighed, pushing himself off the beanbag and walking towards Bakugou’s door.

“Look, I’m gonna go get something to drink. You want anything?” Kirishima raised his eyebrows in hopes of a response.

“Die,” was all he got.

Kirishima bit back another chuckle, opening the door before turning his head back around to look at Bakugou, who was now fiddling with his sheets and grumbling to himself angrily. “Alright, well, I’ll be back in just a minute. Hopefully you’ll have calmed yourself down enough by then.”

“I AM CALM YOU RED-HAIRED LOSER!” Bakugou yelled at the door as Kirishima quickly walked out and shut the door to avoid the small blasts he could hear shooting from the boy’s palms. Kirishima just shook his head with a grin, making his way down the stairs and towards the kitchen.

When he arrived, he saw Bakugou’s father cooking dinner on the stove. It made Kirishima smile, reminding him of his own home a little, though he hadn’t been back home in a while. He did miss his moms quite a lot since moving to the dorms, and he’ll definitely have to invite Bakugou over to meet them sometime soon.

He could smell the amazing spices his father had been adding to whatever meat and noodles he had in the pot, the scent almost burning Kirishima’s nose from how spicy he could tell it was. ‘Obviously loving spiciness must run in the family,’ Kirishima thought as he opened up the fridge, alerting the father’s attention.

“Oh, Kirishima! Are you looking for anything specific?” the man asked, looking up from his steaming pot for a moment to smile at his son’s best friend. Kirishima shot a cheerful smile right back at him.

“Oh, just some water would be fine!” he nodded, grabbing a water bottle from one of the fridge drawers, before remembering the seething boy upstairs waiting for his return. He grinned. “Actually, what does Bakugou normally drink here? At the dorms he usually has protein shakes but you probably don’t have those just lying around,” Kirishima chuckled, sitting his water bottle down on the kitchen island to look at his friend’s father.

“Well, the boy doesn’t usually like to admit it but he’s quite keen on strawberry milk,” he smiled with a nod as he went back to stirring his pot, glancing over towards Kirishima with a grin.

“Shoot, really? Didn’t peg him for the strawberry milk type of guy,” Kirishima giggled, looking back in the fridge and noticing the few bottles of strawberry milk they had lying on the shelf, probably bought when they found out Bakugou was coming home for the weekend. “He’s kinda mad at me right now so I figured I’d make a peace offering.”

“Not a bad idea, kid. I’ve had to do my fair share of those over the years. Katsuki’s always been the rather...angry type,” Masaru’s eyebrows furrowed downward towards his pot, shaking his head as if thinking of all the times the boy must’ve lost his temper at his old man.

“What did you used to do when he was little? Y’know, whenever he got all...aah!” Kirishima accentuated his little growl imitating Bakugou by shaking his hands angrily in front of him, just like how Bakugou usually does when he’s about to blow someone to kingdom come. This made Masaru laugh, shaking his head and adding a few more spices to the pot.

“Well...as of now, I usually just let his mother handle everything. But when he was little, Mitsuki and I would usually just tickle the little guy ‘til he giggled all that anger out,” Masaru smiled at the fond memories, glancing over towards Kirishima who held a wide-eyed, shocked but excited expression on his face. Masaru chuckled, pointing his spoon towards the teen. “But you did not hear this from me, understand?”

“Oh, totally, I got your back 100% Mr. Bakugou,” Kirishima saluted the man with a grin, making him laugh once more with a fond shake of the head. Kirishima lowered his hand, finally grabbing the strawberry milk from the fridge and sitting it on the counter with his water, promptly shutting the fridge door. “So...that didn’t make him angry or anything? He wouldn’t, like, explode you and Mrs. Bakugou to ashes or something?”

“Well I’m still here to tell the story, aren’t I?” Masaru gestured to his body with his spoon, Kirishima nodding with a chuckle. “Nah, he used to love it when we did that! Sometimes I think he’d pretend to be angry on purpose just so we’d play ‘Claw’ with him.”

“Claw? What’s Claw?” Kirishima asked, now leaning on the counter with his head propped up on his hand, listening intently as if this was the single most interesting thing he’d ever heard (because in all honesty? It very well might’ve been).

“Oh boy, Claw was his favorite. I would always hold his hands down so he couldn’t get away, while his mother would make a claw hand and tickle it into his stomach and ribs. It always had little Katsuki in stitches,” Masaru was very obviously enjoying remembering these fond memories of his son, seeming like he had almost completely forgotten about these fun little moments until Kirishima had brought them all back to light. “We always did it when he was being bratty, but not bratty enough to deserve a time-out. Sometimes, though, he wouldn’t even have to do anything bad, he’d just come out and ask for Claw when he felt playful. It was always so cute,” Masaru grinned widely, looking over towards Kirishima and promptly pointing his spoon back at the boy. “And, again you didn’t hear any of this from me, but…”

He paused, almost debating whether or not this was a good idea. He was finally swayed on his decision, however, when he saw the bright look of excitement in Kirishima’s eyes at the prospect of an actually happy Bakugou. He couldn’t help but cave.

“...but if you wanna really get him laughing, his worst spots are the spot riiiiight under his armpits, and the sides of his thighs. You get him there and he’ll be forgiving you in no time.”

Kirishima nodded with a large, toothy grin, swiping the drinks off the counter and practically bouncing in his spot as he backed his way out of the kitchen. “Thank you so much, Mr. Bakugou. It was truly an honor to know you, but I’ve got a death sentence waiting for me upstairs.”

“You get him, kiddo!” Masaru shouted towards the teen as he scurried his way out of the kitchen and towards the stairs giddily.

Kirishima was practically cheesing when he made his way towards Bakugou’s childhood bedroom, and had to mentally and physically calm himself down before entering so as not to alert Bakugou of his devious scheme.

He pushed the door open, finding Bakugou to now be leaning with his back against the wall, arm propped up on his knee as he scrolled mindlessly through his phone. He scowled upon hearing Kirishima’s entrance, not even bothering to look up towards the boy as he grumbled, “Damn, I was hoping you were gonna stay down there all night.”

Kirishima rolled his eyes, tossing the milk onto the bed beside the blonde and hopping onto it himself. Bakugou’s eyes widened at the sudden movement beside him, eyes darting down to the drink on his bed before scowling back up at Kirishima. “How the fuck did you know I like this shit, I never drink it at school.”

Kirishima grinned, opening up his own water bottle. “Oh, just a little birdy,” he giggled, taking a sip of his water and watching as Bakugou begrudgingly took his own drink and started opening it as well.

“This doesn’t mean I forgive you, moron. These are just...really good,” Bakugou wasn’t looking at Kirishima, obviously still angry as he went back to staring at his phone instead of paying the redhead any mind.

“C’mon, man, I didn’t mean to! It wasn’t on purpose!” Kirishima practically pleaded next to him, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder which was immediately shrugged off rather aggressively. “Look, I’m sorry. Would it make you feel better if I helped you find a new wolf?”

“Are you kidding me?! I’m not playing this shitty game with you anymore, you fucking suck at it!” Bakugou had a scowl on his face that looked like what he was saying was the single most obvious thing in the whole world. Kirishima just sighed, closing up his water and throwing it down on the bed.

“I’d hate to make you, Bakugou, but you may just force my hand,” Kirishima shook his head slowly as if in disappointment, only making Bakugou’s brows cross in confusion.

“The fuck do you mean ‘make me,’ you idiot?! You can’t force me to do shit, and I’m not fucking playing this game with you,” Bakugou pushed, and to anyone else it definitely wouldn’t sounded like he meant it. But Kirishima knew Bakugou far, far too well. He could hear the competition in his voice, see the spark of want in his eyes that just said ‘please fight me on this.’ He wanted a challenge. Kirishima could see that. And boy was he gonna give it to him.

“Oh, but can’t I?” Kirishima’s voice sounded almost taunting, and once he saw that Bakugou was looking at him with competitiveness painted all over his face, he brought both of his hands up to wiggle fingers menacingly towards the boy.

Bakugou instantly knew what he meant. And if the fact he immediately closed his drink and sat it on his nightstand was no indication that he wanted this to continue, the way he backed up on his bed cautiously with wide eyes instead of immediately fighting Kirishima back most definitely was.

He was excited.

“Kirishima, don’t you fucking dare,” Bakugou pressed through a lie, his eyes never once looking away from those still wiggling fingers taunting him in the air, as if too embarrassed to look Kirishima in the eyes and completely give it away that he wanted this, he wanted the fight. He didn’t have to look for Kirishima to know, though. The redhead was still able to see Bakugou’s face even if Bakugou wouldn’t look at him, and he could see the giddiness behind his wall of caution, which only pushed him to continue.

“Then let’s play the game, Bakugou,” Kirishima grinned as Bakugou gave him no response, only backing further away until finally Kirishima pounced, tackling and fighting Bakugou to the bed. This was the least Bakugou had ever put up a fight with him. Kirishima knew how Bakugou fought, he knew just how skilled and precise his moves always were, and he was giving Kirishima practically none of that. Though he did technically fight his way down, he was still inevitably completely tackled and pinned by the redhead, which almost never happened in their regular spars and play fights.

Kirishima forced Bakugou’s arms up above his head, the hardening hero-in-training using his quirk to keep the boy’s hands pinned there for good. His body hovered over Bakugou’s, a rather compromising position if they were to be walked into, but neither boy cared about that in the moment. They were too focused on the excitement and unadulterated giddiness bubbling in the pit of their bellies, and as Kirishima gazed down at Bakugou with a look of mischief in his eyes, Bakugou knew he knew. Kirishima knew Bakugou wanted this, and now the blonde was aware of that. Bakugou couldn’t quite tell if that made this better or worse.

“Fine then. We can play a different game. How about…” Kirishima paused, mocking as if in hard thought as Bakugou’s lips twitched, his eyes wide in a skittish anticipation. Kirishima finally let out a small pretend gasp, looking down at Bakugou before raising up his free hand in a claw shape. “...Claw.”

Bakugou’s eyes could not have been any wider. His cheeks were stained pink, and he squirmed under Kirishima’s pin, “No, nonono don’t you dare fucking touch me you red piece of shit, I swear to god I’ll fucking-HNG!” Bakugou choked on his words, eyes slamming shut as he felt five meticulous fingers skittered over his now bare tummy, as Kirishima must have pushed up his shirt while Bakugou was too busy threatening. Those nails were fucking torturous against his skin, his nerves lighting up and sparking with a specific feeling he hadn’t felt in what had to be years now. It was so bad, so so bad, but...god, he didn’t realize just how much he had missed this feeling until now.

“Uh oh,” Kirishima’s voice held a teasing tone that made Bakugou shake his head, still trying desperately to hold back any and all giggles that threatened to crawl from his gut. Kirishima chuckled darkly. “Looks like someone’s a little ticklish, huh?”

Bakugou only continued to shake his head from side to side, tugging at his pinned arms with no real fervor behind it. Kirishima couldn’t help the smile on his face seeing the boy like this, so flustered and obviously having a good time at something so cute. He could tell Bakugou was desperately trying to contain his giggles, which was definitely his average pride slipping through, but there was no way Kirishima was just going to let that slide.

With a smirk evil enough to send shivers down the blonde’s spine, Kirishima finally dug in, vibrating all five of his fingers into the boy’s taut abdomen. Bakugou howled, arching his back and kicking wildly behind Kirishima as loud giggles and squeals escaped his ever-excited being.

“NAHAHAHA! KIRISHIMAHAHAHA!” Bakugou screamed, those fingers never relenting in their claw-shaped torment on his belly. “SHIHIHIT AHAHAHA!”

“Damn, Bakugou, you’re really ticklish,” Kirishima chuckled, massaging his fingers into the boy’s muscles, causing his to spasm like he’d been shocked, screaming and kicking and cursing all the while.

“FUHUHUCK YOHOHOU AHAHAHA!” Bakugou guffawed, twisting and turning his body every which way as if he was trying to escape the mirthful torment Kirishima was putting him through. Suddenly, all at once, the tickling stopped, and Bakugou let in a gasp of air he didn’t even realize he needed. He opened his eyes and glared at Kirishima hovering above him, the redhead daunting a sinister grin that made Bakugou’s tummy do summersaults.

“What did you just say to me?” Kirishima questioned menacingly, bringing his free hand up to now hold Bakugou’s wrists in both hands, quickly bringing them both down under his knees with no fight from the blonde, who seemed to be frozen in...fear? Excitement? Either way, his eyes were blown wide, his chest heaving slightly from the attack and small titters still threatening to escape. But Bakugou was never one to back away from a challenge, no matter his condition. He couldn’t help the small twitch at the corners of his lips as he looked up to Kirishima in competition.

“I said: Fuck. You,” Bakugou spat out, and Kirishima could feel his body tense under him after he spoke the fierce words, almost like he was bracing himself for the inevitable. Kirishima shook his head with a grin, raising both his hands up in the air to once again wiggle tauntingly towards his victim.

“Oh, you are so gonna regret that,” Kirishima chuckled, lowering his hands down slowly towards the boy’s quivering belly. His stomach sucked in as if trying to evade the wiggly fingers, Bakugou’s eyes large and never looking away from those claws hovering over his sensitive torso.

Finally, his fingers touched down, skittering over the boy’s lower tummy and making his breath hitch, pursing his lips tightly and slamming his eyes shut at the teasing sensations. Kirishima’s fingers wandered and scribbled all over the boy’s torso, and for a few seconds Bakugou was able to keep his reactions at bay. That is, until Kirishima skittered on a spot right at the base of Bakugou’s ribs, causing the boy to jolt with a small yelp. Kirishima couldn’t contain his chuckle at the reaction.

“Ohoho, there it is,” Kirishima drawled, pinching at the spot that made Bakugou squirm. Bakugou growled, almost like he was trying to keep any cute little giggles to himself, but those incessant pinches just wouldn’t let up, and in seconds time he was a giggling mess under Kirishima’s touch.

“Nohoho! Fuhuhuck shihihit!- AHAHAHAHA NAHAHAHA!” Bakugou practically screamed when he felt Kirishima vibrate his index and middle finger into that spot at his lower ribs right where it meets his back. He arched his spine up, kicking fruitlessly behind Kirishima’s body and cackling like a child all the while. “YOHOHOU BAHAHASTARD! YOHOHOU FUHUHUCKING SHIHIHIT!”

“Well that’s really no way to talk to your best friend, now is it?” Kirishima tsked, clawing at Bakugou’s ribs and eliciting more screeches and cackles from the sensitive teen. “You’re so much more ticklish than I thought you’d be, I am loving this.”

“STAHAHAP SAHAHAYING THAHAHAT!” Bakugou shook his head back and forth, clenching his fists hard under Kirishima’s knees as if trying to keep himself from exploding the both of them both to ashes.

“What? That you’re ticklish?” Kirishima tilted his head with a smirk, pinching up and down the boy’s ribs rapidly, making his laughs soar up in pitch. “Cause, I mean, you are. You’re like, super duper ticklish! But it’s fine cause it’s totally cute,” Kirishima said the last bit without really meaning to, blushing slightly at his blunt statement, but deciding against ending the ticklish torment over it.

“NAHAHAHA! I’M NOHOHOT CUHUHUTE!” Bakugou denied through his cackles, continuing to shake his head in playful anguish. “FUHUHUCK OHOHOHFF!”

“Hmm...I don’t think I will. In fact, there’s a few more tickle spots I wanna try out, so you’re just gonna have to keep a-giggling for me, Bakubro,” Kirishima chuckled, taking his hands off the boy for a moment to give him a breather. Small breathy giggles and titters continued to spill from Bakugou’s lips during his rest, his head leaning back against the pillow in almost exhaustion. Kirishima leaned forward, placing both of his hands beside the boy’s head, leaving his face to hover over the boy’s own blushed one. Bakugou’s eyes widened a bit at the invasion of personal space, but never made an effort to push him off. Kirishima tilted his head like a curious puppy, “You’re okay, right? You don’t like, totally hate this? Cause I can stop if you really want me to.”

Bakugou’s cheeks were splattered pink, his eyes averting their gaze from the boy on top of him. He squirmed a tad under Kirishima’s straddle, shoulders hunching up slightly in embarrassment. “I mean...it’s not...the worst thing in the world…” Bakugou grumbled into his shoulder, eyes still refusing to meet the red-head’s own.

Kirishima grinned down at Bakugou, using one hand to gently cup Bakugou’s chin and turn his head to face his own. “I knew you didn’t hate it. I just wanted you to say it out loud,” he giggled at the blonde’s flustered and shocked expression, before quickly shooting his hands down to squeeze at Bakugou’s ribs with extreme ticklish precision. Bakugou shouted a cackle at the sudden change, his head shaking from side to side and eyes scrunching closed once more.

“OHOHO YOHOHU MOTHERFUHUHUCKER!” Bakugou guffawed, clawing at the sheets under Kirishima’s knees. Kirishima just giggled, working both of his middle fingers in between the tight spot where Bakugou’s arms were clamped against his ribs, digging into the spot just below his underarms that Masaru had told him about.

Bakugou shrieked, kicking harder than before as wave after wave of loud, unfiltered squeals and cackles left his chest.

“SHIHIHIHIT! FUHUHUCK OH MY GAHAHAD! NAHAHAT THEHEHERE! NAHAHAT THAHAHAT SPOHOHOT YOU FUHUHUCK!” He screamed through his laughter, opening an eye to glare at Kirishima through his mirthful tears. Kirishima sported the biggest, shark-toothed grin he could probably muster, and it sent fluttering butterflies throughout the inside of Bakugou’s entire torso.

“Aww, is this spot bad, buddy? This spot tickle?~” Kirishima cooed, his fingers never relenting as they wiggled and dug into that one torutrous little spot that had Bakugou howling.

“FUHUHUCK YOHOHU! YEHEHES! IT T-AHAHA! IT FUHUHUCKING TI-HEHEHE!” Bakugou couldn’t even get the flustering word out through all of his cackles and squeals, which amused Kirishima to no end.

“God how are you so adorable like this,” Kirishima sighed, finally bringing his fingers back down to teasingly scribble and wiggle all over Bakugou’s bare tummy. Bakugou dissolved into a puddle of high-pitched, breathy giggles, that had Kirishima fawning over him in seconds. “You’re so giggly, and I didn’t even know you could giggle before this!”

“Shuhuhut uhuhup!” Bakugou practically whined through his giggles, his cheeks so pink and warm Kirishima could just melt in the cuteness of his flustered face.

“Oooh, I wonder if your belly button is ticklish too,” Kirishima eyed the little navel that bounced through Bakugou’s laughter, one of his fingers travelling over to circle around the button teasingly.

“NO! Nohoho, dohohon’t! Plehehease!” Bakugou pleaded, though Kirishima knew it was all just a front.

“Wow, I’ve got THE Katsuki Bakugou begging right now? Who knew I’d ever see the day!” Kirishima chuckled, worming a teasing nail into the navel and causing Bakugou to shriek and jerk underneath him. “Aww, it’s like a little giggle button!”

“Dohohon’t sahahay that stuhupid shihit!” Bakugou tittered, goosebumps forming all over his tummy from the feather-light way Kirishima scribbled over the skin.

“Alright, oneeee more place I wanna try, then we get back to Minecraft. Deal?” Kirishima moved his fingers to scribble slowly up and down the boy’s sides to let him respond, delighted at the way the movement made him squirm.

“Fihihine, whatehehever,” Bakugou braced himself for the final attack, gasping when he felt Kirishima’s hands leave his sides and rest on the top of his thighs. “Shit, shihit, shit, wahahait-!”

“Oh, this is a good spot, isn’t it?~” Kirishima teased, squeezing the muscle once to see Bakugou jerk and shriek under him. “Yup. Looks like a good one to me.”

“Ohoho plehehease, I cahahan’t, it’s so bahahad-” Bakugou whined, squirming and giggling despite Kirishima’s tickling on his thighs to even start yet.

“You’re a super ticklish guy, Bakugou, but you’re also super tough and manly. I know you can take it!” Kirishima hyped him up with a smile, just making Bakugou groan and roll his eyes with a snicker. “C’mon! Tell me you can take it!”

Bakugou huffed, gazing over at Kirishima’s face that plastered that stupid goofy grin of his. God why does he have to be so cute, Bakugou thought as he sighed with another eye roll.

“Fine, whatever, I can take it, just...fuckin get it over with already, you’re killing me heRE-HRGN! FFFAHAHAHAHA OH SHIHIHIT!” Bakugou keened, cackling and thrashing himself from side to side as both of Kirishima’s hands massaged into his upper thighs. The sensation was torturous, beyond torturous, his nerves were on fire and his muscles were pulsing under those terrible wiggling fingers, but if he could choose it, he’d feel like this forever if it were by the hands of that stupid fucking redhead.

“Damn, this must tickle bad , huh? You’re losing your mind!” Kirishima giggled, squeezing at those sensitive muscles like his life depended on it.

“FUHUHUCK! YEHEHES IT’S SO BAHAHAD! KIRIHIMAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEASE!” Bakugou pleaded and begged, tiny droplets of mirth finally pooling at the corners of his eyes despite his best wishes. Kirishima could tell the blonde was finally reaching his limits, and slowed his fingers down until he was just resting his hands on top of the boy’s thighs comfortingly, rubbing up and down the sides to soothe the still giggling boy.

Kirishima smiled down at Bakugou who was still coming down from his giggle high, titters that could light up a whole room spilling from his lips and making Kirishima’s heart swell. “You alive, man?”

Bakugou coughed out his last giggle, still breathing heavy before giving Kirishima a lazy nod. Kirishima giggled, gently climbing off the boy and laying down beside him on the bed. Bakugou brought his hands up to rub at his still flushed face, and Kirishima couldn’t keep his eyes off of him. The red-head was grinning ear-to-ear, and he could tell that under the palms of those calloused hands covering Bakugou’s face, the blonde was too.

After a few more moments of comfortable silence, Bakugou brought his hands down, turning his head to face Kirishima with a small smile still visible, only on the corners of his lips. “You almost killed me, you bastard.”

“Sorry, you were...you were just really cute like that. I’ve never seen you giggle before,” Kirishima chuckled sheepishly, eyeing Bakugou’s nearly forgotten drink still sitting on the nightstand. He pointed over to it, Bakugou’s following the direction of his finger. “You should probably get a drink, you were laughing pretty hard there.”

Bakugou huffed, his cheeks flushing only slightly at the comment, but he still rolled over to grab the drink and turn back around to face the redhead. “Shut up, I can’t help it.”

“Yeah, I know...too ticklish for your own good, huh?” Kirishima snickered, Bakugou punching his shoulder playfully while taking a sip of his milk. Kirishima rubbed the spot Bakugou punched with a grin. “I’m being serious, though. You really did look cute like that.”

Bakugou’s eyes refused to meet Kirishima’s. His hands cupped tightly around the bottle in his lap, thumbs fiddling with the plastic wrapper encasing it. Kirishima could see how flustered he looked despite their eyes not meeting and he almost felt a little guilty. But Bakugou finally glanced up towards Kirishima, and for the first time ever, the blonde looked...shy. “Do you really think that or are you trying to fuck with me right now? Cause it’s not very nice to fucking flirt with someone if you don’t mean it.”

Kirishima’s eyes widened a little at his bluntness to call it what it was; flirting. “Well, y-yeah. Yeah I meant it. For real,” Kirishima said, but he could tell Bakugou wasn’t sure if he meant it. Kirishima furrowed his brows, cupping Bakugou’s chin gently like he had while attacking the boy just minutes ago, turning his head so their eyes would meet. He stared intently at him, making sure his expression was as genuine as a person could be. “I’m serious, Bakugou. I...I think you’re really attractive,” Kirishima saw how Bakugou’s eyes moved, how he felt frozen under his touch but still somehow looked like he wanted to squirm. “You’re cute and super manly, which I didn’t even know could be a real combination until I met you. You’re...you’re my favorite person, Bakugou.”

They sat like that for a moment. Kirishima brought his hand back down to rest in his own lap, but their eyes never left each other. That was, until, Bakugou’s eyes drifted downward towards Kirishima’s lips. Kirishima’s heart faltered for a minute at the gaze, feeling hair standing up at the back of his neck. Bakugou’s eyes darted back up to Kirishima, a tilt forward in his head that asked Kirishima ‘is this okay?’ Kirishima just nodded with half-lidded eyes, before Bakugou slowly leaned forward, his own eyes closing as their faces finally met in the middle when Kirishima pushed his own head forward.

Their lips brushed shyly against one another, as if cautious and unsure if this was an okay thing to do, before Kirishima pushed into it, forcing their lips together. Bakugou brought a hand up to cup at Kirishima’s cheek, Kirishima doing the same to Bakugou. Bakugou felt like he was going to melt, or explode, or disintegrate or...or just keep kissing Kirishima until he couldn’t breathe.

After what felt like an eternity, they pulled apart, breathless and hazy. Kirishima opened his eyes first, and when Bakugou opened his and looked at Kirishima with those shy little eyes he didn’t have before, Kirishima couldn’t help but dissolve into a fit of giggles. His laugh was always too contagious, damnit, and before he knew it Bakugou was giggling along with him and he didn’t even know why.

When he finally caught his breath, Kirishima slumped back against the pillows of Bakugou’s bed, Bakugou following him to lay there and stare questioningly. “Sorry, sorry, it’s just...you tasted like strawberry milk.”

Bakugou paused for a moment, before chuckling, shoving at Kirishima playfully as they both snickered. “You’re a fucking dork.”

“Hm, maybe,” Kirishima giggled as he brought his face back closer towards Bakugou’s, meeting their lips once again in a soft kiss that lasted forever.

Kirishima would definitely have to thank Mr. Bakugou later for that helpful information about his son, because now their night tasted like strawberry milk and giggles, and Kirishima didn’t want anything else in the entire world than just that.

. . .

A/N : hope you guys enjoyed that, sorry its so fucking long LMAOO i got very carried away. it took me a while to write and ive got a fucking headache so imma go lay down now, MUCH LOVE!! <33

[bleachhaven]

Hey there! Congratulations on your followers milestone! 🤩 Can I get headcanons for Byakuya using his beautiful elegant hands to please his female s/o? I’m sorry!!! I have a serious hand kink when it comes to that man

Finally! A request for my very first Bleach crush! Thank you!

—

Kuchiki Byakuya and his Elegant Hands headcanons (SMUT)

Byakuya has soft hands, with long and slender fingers. His nails are carefully maintained at the appropriate length (which is barely any length at all honestly. Short and neat is the noble way!), his skin smooth like porcelain and even any scars left behind by an accidental brush with his zanpakuto only add to the beauty and pure elegance of his hands. He has very noble hands. That is the only way to describe them. And you can’t help but tell him that sometimes.

Every time you see him maneuver his Senbonzakura through training exercises or battles...his hands gliding through the air, almost as if performing a dance...The way his fingers move, gathering power for kido... It makes your heart race and skip a beat!

Watching him practice his calligraphy is pure torture of the worst (or best) kind. The way his hand holds the brush as the tip slides over paper in careful, measured strokes, you can’t help but think of his hands on you...in you...teasing you with that same precision. With that same gentleness.

If you wake up early enough, you’d get the opportunity to see him get dressed and carefully put his kenseikan on. The way he smooths his haori and dons each piece of clothing...the way he assembles the kenseikan with practiced and sure motions...it kills you. You want him to undress you with the same attentiveness with which he dresses himself each morning. You want those hands to smooth over your bare skin instead of that pristine white haori. The fingerless white tekko upon his hands, tease you mockingly, enticing you just by existing.

Sometimes he will catch your intent look and wonder why you’re looking at him that way but when he asks you, “Is something the matter?” You end up simply squeaking your denial. More often than not, he has caught you staring at his hands and had been forced to recheck if he has ink smeared across his fingers.

It doesn’t take Byakuya too long to put two and two together though. Your focus on his hands and you randomly complimenting how soft his hands are or how freaking noble his hands are for no logical reason give you away entirely. He is startled to realize his beloved has a hand kink. But at the same time, he is curious to use this knowledge to please you

One night, after your evening stroll together through the manor gardens, he decides to execute his planned seduction when you are alone in your room. Right at the opportune moment, when he has you right where he wants you, he casually mentions that you look tense. Before you could turn around to say anything, he reaches out to touch your shoulders and begin to gently massage the tension away. The two of you are in front of the full length mirror in your room, just as he had planned. He can see every reaction upon your face but even more, he can feel your gaze upon his hands as he administers his seemingly ‘helpful’ ministrations upon your unsuspecting shoulders. As the tension seeps away from your very long work day, a tension of a distinctly different kind sneaks in, leaving goosebumps upon your sensitive skin.

“Are you cold?” He asks, fully aware of just what he is doing to you. That it is definitely not the cold that has your nipples pebbling.

You watch with bated breath, as his hands smooths over your clothed curves to reach the ties that hold them in place. He has them undone and the sight of him working on that knot has your mouth dry. And his hands glide back up, teasingly slowing upon your breasts, resting upon your nipples without quite pinching them.

“Byakuya...” you whisper as you try to turn around to maybe kiss him or get him as naked as he has you. You want him desperately, and you can feel his need press hard against the small of your back through his clothing too.

But he is having none of it. His hold on your naked hip tightens and holds you in place, facing the mirror. “Look,” he instructs, and your eyes meet his on the mirror’s reflection. “Look at what I am doing to you. Look at what my hands are doing to you.” With those words, his left hand moves past the curls to slide across the slit, his fingers almost entering you but not quite just yet.

It was an erotic sight. He was fully clothed in his Gotei uniform, even with his haori on, as he had joined you straight from a late meeting at the barracks. You were stark naked in front of him, without even a stitch of clothing on. The contrast of his gloved hand was an enticing contrast upon your bare skin.

While you were taking in the sight, he slid one finger inside of you. Longer than yours, and reaching a deeper part of you that you could never reach on your own whenever you dared to touch yourself. He’d pull out, and slide back in, working three fingers in...stretching you. Filling you. Making you moan with need.

Knowing that he had you at his mercy, the hand holding your hip abandoned its post to find the little nub of pleasure. He knew just the right amount of pressure to apply. Just the right way to move his fingers around your clit to maximize your pleasure. It was not just Senbonzakura he could maneuver effortlessly with his hands. He played you like a violin, strumming on all the right strings.

It was too much. His fingers inside of you. His other hand on your clit. Most of all, unlike the other times you two engaged in this kind of thing, this time you had complete visual of just how his hands looked on you while he was intently focused on making you cum. It was just way too much to handle. You burst apart, reaching your peak, and it might have been the most intense orgasm you had ever experienced.

Once you finally come down from it, he is watching you through the mirror, enjoying every expression on your face — the awe, the wonder, the pleasure...the satisfaction.

He is dead serious when he says, “You always say I have such noble hands. I wanted to see just what they were capable of.” It leaves you gobsmacked for a moment and you almost miss the self-satisfied smug smile on the corner of his lips.

—

Got to admit. I got carried away with this and writing it has me distinctly hot and bothered 🥵

—

This was written for the

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...and requests for that are now closed.

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[havethetimeofyourstyles]

in which you and harry steal each other’s stuff that eventually leads to more.

a/n: hi beauties! here is my fic for @stylesharrys​ 10k challenge! my picture of harry is the one above, enemies to lovers, and prompt is: ‘can you use your mouth for something other than talking?’ dedicated to my appreciation for great teachers & wanting to become one, but not happening lol

thank you to my girls @bopbopstyles​ & @harrystylescherry​ for beta reading <3

enjoy 23.4k (LONG AH) words of teacher!harry x teacher!reader, (kind of) enemies to lovers, angst, smut, plus a bit of twist in between!

TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK OF STEAL YOUR HEART! i’d love to hear your favorite moments and thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

It was seven in the morning when you quickly sneaked over to the front desk where the cubbies for mail sat unbothered.

Call it a Monday ritual, where Nina would chuckle at your playfulness as you would take your fellow coworker’s mail and put it someplace else as said coworker would take something of yours and do the same.

Every Wednesday, he would take your bottle of milk from your own personal mini fridge and place it in different refrigerators throughout the building, leaving you to wander around to fifteen different classrooms as you raided their fridges and embarrassingly apologize for being in their business. But they would laugh it off knowing you and Harry always played games like that.

You could use different milk for your coffee that other teachers have, but since you’re lactose intolerant, you’d rather not, especially during work.

And today was no different for you. Every Monday, you would steal Harry’s mail from his mailbox and place it somewhere else; whether it’d be in your classroom or someone else’s classroom—sometimes you would even put it in other people’s mailboxes.

It may be immature of you both to be messing around in a school environment where you’re both teaching third graders how to behave and be nice to one another, but after working alongside Harry for six years, there was bound to be some kind of way to keep the workplace fun and light, but also remain somewhat professional.

But stealing each other’s belongings had begun a year after both of you started working at the school because after you two had met, things were a bit rocky, and somewhat still rocky as of now. You remembered the day so clearly when you accidentally stumbled upon his classroom.

You were nervous for your official first day because it was the first time you would have a class to yourself. You were rather proud of your achievements as you now had your own classroom at twenty-four. It was a different feeling when it was your own; when you were a TA for the high school down the street, but you rarely got to do any teaching because Miss Landson would never miss out on a day of teaching, so you were only really limited to grading papers and helping her students if they went up to you and asked. But you had no experience teaching in front of a whole class.

To say the least, you were nervous.

You had walked into your classroom to find it already decorated, and you assumed it was from the teacher prior who had just retired and didn’t take all of her decorations down. And although you brought many of your own decorations to put up, you didn’t mind it. It was nice to start off your first day not looking at empty walls, as they were filled with all sorts of decorative stars and colorful fliers.

Hesitantly, you took a seat in the comfy and cushioned chair, putting your bag down right beside the legs of the table, and spun around slowly as you tried to ease your nerves. Once you had fully spun around and made your way back to the correct position in front of the desk, you abruptly stopped spinning as you noticed a man standing in front of you with his arms crossed.

“What are you doing?” He had said with his brows furrowed. You looked at him as if you were a deer in headlights, feeling like you got caught doing something bad.

“I, uh…just getting a feel for the chair?” You sat up straighter, realizing that was such a bad and stupid answer.

“And why are you doing that in my classroom?” Your eyes widened at that, making you immediately stand up from his chair.

“I-I’m so sorry. I must’ve gone to the wrong classroom,” you hurriedly opened your folder that contained a copy of your contract, school rules, a map of the school, and the room number that you were supposed to be in.

“You must be the new teacher, correct?” He asked as he raised his brows, but still looked at you as if he was scolding you.

“Yeah, that’s me,” you said with a chuckle, hoping to try and lighten the mood as your face had reddened. Harry only nodded, and you felt his stare intimidate you, so you quickly gathered your belongings and walked around the desk. “Uh, nice to meet you,” you took your hand out as you told him your name, and you felt him hesitantly reach for it. But nonetheless, he shook it, and his heavy ring covered hand met your delicate two ringed one.

“You too. I’m Mr. Harry Styles,” he introduced himself.

Once he had said his name, chills had immediately risen onto your skin as he looked at you so intently. You couldn’t deny that he was incredibly handsome, green eyes piercing into yours, and most likely a year or two older than you, based on how well dressed he was. Everything about him had made you swoon for him.

But that had quickly changed later in that school year of your first year teaching.

It was January, after the Christmas break, when you noticed that some of your things in your classroom had gone missing. Just some basic school supplies such as your gold stapler and all of your expo markers were not in your classroom. You thought that it was impossible your students had taken them because they were in your class when you had left the last day you had gone on break.

It wasn’t until you were helping out with the rest of the staff, putting up decorations for Valentine’s Day when you noticed a certain someone had your gold stapler in his hand as he stapled heart shaped cutouts onto the bulletin board.

“Mr. Styles!”

“Oh, hello there. How are you on this fine Thursday afternoon? Did you know that one of my students-”

“You took my stapler!” You said, and he looked at you confusingly, so you looked at his hand so he would know what you were talking about.

“This is my stapler,” he held it up.

“I don’t think so because my gold stapler was taken from my class and now it’s gone, and I know you don’t have a gold-”

“Snooping in my classroom, are you now, Miss?” He said, interrupting you and a clearly amused look on his face.

“Uh, no, but-”

“Then how would you know I don’t have a gold stapler?”

“I-I…don’t,” you said softly because you really didn’t know as you were assuming.

“Then it’s settled. You must’ve misplaced your stapler,” he told you as he continued stapling decorations to the wall. You huffed as you had walked away, continuing what you were doing.

It wasn’t until a week later, your gold stapler had magically appeared on your desk when you walked into your classroom, and you noticed that a red stapler was on Harry’s desk, when you had buddy classroom meetups, and not in fact, a gold one. And you knew it was him, but decided not to confront him about it as you carried on with your day, happily using your stapler.

So, from that year, fast forward to five years later, taking each other’s things had continued on. Taking his mail and your milk had only started last year, and it’s been fun as you both found new hiding spots and watched each other lose your minds when trying to find them. It was nothing serious, really, and neither of you made an effort to stop.

“Where are you going to put it this time?” Nina asked, amused. You pursed your lip, thinking as you gathered all of his mail in your hands.

“Hmm. I was thinking under my refrigerator, but-”

“What do we have here?” A voice you recognized as Harry said as he snuck up on you, causing you to squeal and jump, making you drop his mail. “Think you dropped something, or is that my mail?” He said as he looked down at the dropped mail.

“Son of a bitch. What are you doing here so early?” You rolled your eyes as you bent down to pick up his mail. He usually arrived at the school around 7:30, and school started at eight.

If it were any other day when you weren’t his annoying coworker and fellow class buddy, he would’ve loved the sight below him, but he had to remind himself to snap out of his thoughts and get it together.

“Now, we are in a workplace where there are children around. Don’t be using that kind of language,” he teased, but proceeded to answer your question. “But I had to print some of the worksheets that I forgot to do on Friday, so here I am. And you know the printer, always getting jammed when you print too many.”

“Seems pretty irresponsible to me if you forgot on Friday,” you turned your head towards Nina as you chuckled, but only found her eyes dreamily staring at Harry, which caused you to roll your eyes. But you didn’t blame her; he was very attractive, but the fact that you both are always messing and annoying one another didn’t completely make your heart swoon for him.

“Says you; the one who gave them a worksheet that was supposed to be for the month later,” he said back. Your jaw slightly dropped, impressed that he still remembered that considering that that happened your first year at the school.

“Ugh, whatever,” you scoffed as you crossed your arms, mail still in your hands. Harry chuckled as he looked at his mail underneath your arms, so he went to grab them, causing you to uncross your arms.

“Think this is mine. Thanks for grabbing them for me,” he said sarcastically, and you sighed, bummed that you weren’t able to do your morning ritual by hiding his mail and watching him struggle while finding it.

You watched him walk away as he flicked through his mail, and as you were about to follow him because your classroom is right next to his, he turned around and stopped walking to look up at you.

“By the way, you look nice today,” he said, looking you up and down in a non-creepy way, before walking away to his classroom.

You slightly raised your brows as you were taken off guard by the compliment, but a tint of pink had creeped up your cheeks as they began to warm up. Turning around to look at Nina if she heard the same thing you did, she was already looking at you with a blushing and giddy smile as you whispered to her, “did he just say that?” To which you earned an immediate nod of her head.

With your lips curled into your mouth, you walked back to your classroom, to get on with the day as you tried not to gush over the words of the curly headed teacher next door.

The rest of the week passed by quickly, and per Harry’s ritual, he moved your milk on Wednesday from your fridge to his fridge.

You had never thought about looking through his fridge since he would be quite obvious with knowing that it was in his room, but once you were getting cranky after looking through everyone's mini fridge and the lack of coffee, you had marched in his classroom and told him you gave up. And he chuckled, getting up from his desk as he walked over to his fridge before opening it and giving your container of milk. You took the milk, shaking your head as you walked back to your classroom as Harry followed.

“You know, I think we’re going to have to find something else to hide because I’m running out of places to stash your stuff in before they rot because you’ve been taking forever to find them lately,” he teased as he leaned against one of your student’s desks.

You rolled your eyes, pouring a splash of milk in your coffee. “I’m not taking forever,” you denied.

“Yeah, you are and you know it.”

You gave up arguing, silently agreeing. “Alright, you can pick something else, but I’m going to still do your mail. It’s fun searching through your monthly catalogs,” you said with a chuckle, and he dramatically gasped.

“It’s illegal to look through someone else’s mail!”

“Please. Like you don’t look through mine?” You said as you sipped your coffee, looking at him with testing eyes, and he was caught red-handed.

One day, you were walking to the cubbies and once you got there, you caught Harry sneaking a peek at one of your fashion magazines that you subscribed to. And since you have enough subscriptions that are being mailed to your home, you decided to mail some of them to the school.

“To be fair, it fell out of your mailbox. I was just simply putting it back,” he explained, and you smirked as you told him okay with a testing look.

The next week, there was a meeting with the rest of the staff after school was out of session in the multipurpose room. You took a seat next to Stephanie, or Mrs. Bale, as Harry sat in the row in front of you on the end with Mr. Ken. He was a bit older than Harry, already had that salt and pepper kind of hair and you thought he pulled it off really well, but he was already attractive to begin with.

“Thank you, everyone, for sticking around to attend this meeting. It’s Friday and I know everyone wants to go home, so I’ll keep it short,” Mrs. Morgan started, “So in one week on Saturday, there is a very special anniversary coming up, and that is the school’s 40th anniversary!” She said excitedly as she clapped her hands.

There was small chatter as everyone let out ‘ooh’s’ and ‘ahh’s’, saying how that’s exciting and a big milestone.

“And we would like to do something to celebrate that—nothing huge, but I’ve already coordinated with a hotel to let us rent out their conference room for next week, and I’ve also hired an event coordinator to grab some decorations. But as for helping set up, I need everyone’s help for rearranging that.” Everyone nodded, not thrilled with the fact that they had to help out with organizing this event. “Just maybe if you can take the time of your busy lives and exhausting job, if some of you can, that would be great.”

Mrs. Morgan then started talking about what would be served, and to sign up if any of the staff were vegan or vegetarian. She also talked about games and photo booths, and expected everyone to participate and be a good sport because it would be a lot of fun when there are more people involved in the activities.

“Also, it is formal wear because the conference hall is a very luxury hotel that overlooks the coast. And besides, you get to dress up, so that’s always fun!” She said cheerfully as she was clearly very excited for the event.

The meeting didn’t go past twenty five minutes as people mainly chatted or asked questions on the location and capacity.

“Alright, everyone is free to go. If you’d like to sign up to help your dear principle set up for next Friday, please sign this clipboard right here.” She waved the clipboard in the air and set it down on the stage as the staff and teachers got up, and headed out of the multipurpose room and some stayed back to ask questions or sign the clipboard.

You stood up from your chair as you gathered your purse and backpack where you keep various folders of your student’s class work, homework, quizzes and tests.

“Gotta get to the kiddos, finally,” Stephanie said as she began to walk, and noticed that you weren’t following. “You coming?” She asked as she turned around.

“I’m just going to sign up for next Friday. I’ll see you on Monday,” you bid her goodbye.

“Oh, you’re an angel for wanting to help out. I’ll see you next week!” She said her goodbyes as she walked out of the room, and you walked towards the stage to sign your name up for setting up the event as well as writing your name down on the list of vegetarians, although you are pescatarian.

You scanned the list to see if there were any teachers you were close with signed up, but so far not many you really know personally, just the occasional hello and how are you. There were only about three people who signed up so far, including you, and you hoped that more people who write their name down and you also hoped the conference hall wasn’t that big because there were only three people helping out, then it would probably take a while to decorate and set everything up.

As you put the clipboard back down onto the edge of the wooden stage before taking one last glance at it, you turn around to be met with a hard chest, causing you to halt back slightly, and soft grunt coming out of your mouth.

Harry was staring right at you as you looked up, you gave him a look as you wondered why he was in your way and standing behind you so closely.

“Watch it, Mr. Styles,” you said, trying to pass by him, but he shifted towards the right as you took a step to your left, making you both face to face again.

“You were the one who bumped into me, Miss,” he said back with a smirk on your face.

You simply rolled your eyes, exhaustion taking over your mind as you’d rather not bicker with him at the moment. He noticed your tiredness, and kept his mouth shut and his games to himself as he let you walk by him. He picked up the clipboard, glancing down at it as he saw your name written down on the third line.

He felt a bit bad that only three people signed up to help out next Friday, especially considering the first two people were Kyle and Saya (Mr. and Mrs. Terrance) who both are way older, and it would be dangerous for them to lift anything heavy. Plus, he probably knew that you would take care of everything if they couldn’t lift anything, but he didn’t want all the work to be unloaded on you, so he decided to grab the pen and write his name down. He also signed his name on the vegetarian list as well.

Once he turned back around, you were already gone, so he lugged his black leather briefcase with him to the parking lot where he saw you walking towards your car. He snuck up behind you, making you squeal and gasp.

“You need to stop sneaking up on me,” you said as you caught your breath and fished for your keys in your purse.

“Thought you liked it?” He asked sarcastically, and you scoffed.

“Aww, annoying,” you stated.

“Aww, you too,” he said right back in the same tone as you, making you playfully roll your eyes, making a small chuckle fall from your lips.

“What do you want, Harry?”

“Just wanted to say that we’re on the event committee for setting up next Friday,” he said, and you raised your brows.

“Oh, goodie. More moments where you get to mess with me,” you told him in an unexcited tone as you gave him a look that told him you found him annoying.

“Please, you like when I tease you,” he said in a more low tone; his voice was deep as shivers ran down your spine.

His words had come out naturally, and his eyes slightly widened at what just came out of his mouth, hoping you didn’t take it the wrong way because it can be taken differently. And you didn’t miss what he said, especially how he said it.

You hadn’t noticed the position you were both standing in and if someone were to walk by, they would definitely have some eyes on you; your back was against the trunk of your car as he stood quite close as he looked down at you while you looked up. It was like you were back to the day you first met him when you stumbled into the wrong classroom and he stared you down until you got up out of your chair. But this time, he was much closer and it seemed like he was definitely not annoyed at you.

And the slightest bit of sweat had run down your neck as you felt hot under his gazing green eyes and the bit of sun was shining right down on you both. You felt a bit nervous under his stare as it can come off quite intimidating, but through the years of knowing Harry, you knew how to bite back.

“That’s too bad though, isn’t it?” You asked, and he raised his brows. “That you would never know if I liked being teased or not.”

With that, you didn’t even wait to hear his response as you shifted to the side, turning around to walk to the driver’s side. He opened his mouth, but nothing seemed to come out of it as he was shocked to hear your words.

A smirk was present on your face as you chuckled a bit from his reaction before you said, “I’ll see you next week, Mr. Styles.”

The weekend flew by with the slightest bit of drizzle, but luckily, Monday came in with sunshine. You were able to steal Harry’s mail successfully and hide it in the cabinets of the lounge room, but you were disappointed because he found it within ten minutes, and probably because you made the dumb mistake to put it where all the sugar is, so that was your fault. 

On Wednesday, you were surprised to see your milk in your fridge until you remembered Harry telling you that he was probably going to steal something else of yours that doesn’t require your milk spoiling. So, you skeptically searched your room as you tried to find something that was obvious that he stole, but you saw everything in place and nothing that you knew was taken. 

With a confusing expression on your face, you continued on with your day. 

It wasn’t until after lunch when you noticed something was different when you sat in your chair. Looking around, you felt like something was off when you leaned back. Your students were chatting as the movement of the chairs slid against the floor. You gave them about ten minutes to get situated because you weren’t one of those teachers who didn’t allow your students to use the restroom after lunch because they “should’ve gone at lunch.” 

So, you sat there wondering what felt so off about sitting down as you had five more minutes left until you had to teach. But once you figured it out, you gasped, telling your students that you would be back in three minutes and that you were going next door. 

Luckily the setup of the inside of the school is one large room with big divider walls for each classroom, so you didn’t have to go outside and you could practically hear other classrooms as well. 

Stomping over to Harry’s classroom, you walked in and he was sitting on his chair with a smirk on his face as he had his hands on the back of his head, telling his students to take out a math worksheet. He had heard you tell your class that you were leaving for just a few minutes, and he immediately knew that you were headed to his class. As you walked over to his desk, he turned towards you with a sly grin. 

“Oh, hello there. To what do I owe this pleasure of you visiting me?” He said in a very obvious tone, knowing that he’s done something. 

You took a deep breath, “You stole my footrest.” He slightly turned his head to the side as if he didn’t know what you were talking about. “You know, the one under my desk?” You clarified, and he opened his mouth as he realized what footrest you meant. “Where is it?” You really didn’t want to disrupt everyone’s class looking for it, so you just asked him. 

“Hmm, I’m not sure,” he said, and he was really getting on your nerves.

You didn’t want to put up with him, so you didn’t answer back as you took a look around his room until you noticed that he was way too comfortable in his chair. Looking at him weirdly, you walked around the desk to where he was sitting to find his sock covered feet resting on your footrest. 

“Ugh, Harry!” You slightly pushed his chair, causing it to roll to the side a bit. 

“Isn’t this what you do? Take your shoes off when the class is working?” 

“Yeah, doesn’t mean you get to do it too,”  you said before you bent down and roughly pushed his feet off, grabbing your footrest. 

“Woah, if you wanted to get under my desk, you should’ve just said so,” he said with a smirk. You rolled your eyes as you scoffed, quickly getting back up and backing away from his desk.

“Shut the fuck up,” you said quietly for only him to hear as his students were distracted doing their classwork. 

“Language. See you Friday night, by the way,” he said before you made your way out of his classroom and towards yours. 

It was only Wednesday, and you thought the days couldn’t go by any slower. 

Friday rolled around, and you already knew it was going to be the longest day of the week. 

With work, and staying two hours after to wait and head to the venue to help, you already knew you were going to crash easily once you got home. And on top of it, Harry was going to be there as well, so you kept the interactions with him limited during work hours because you simply just did not want to put up with when you had a long day ahead of you. 

It wasn’t like you hated him--because you really didn’t. You tolerated and are civil with each other, and you’ve never gotten a chance to get to know him because all you two do is steal each other’s things. Besides, you really had no reason to hate him because you do the same thing to him. 

Luckily, he sensed that you didn’t really want to talk to him, so he knew to not bother you. He figured that you were having a long week, and he made it worse by stealing your footrest on Wednesday and to make matters even more worse, he bickered with you and made innuendos that you didn’t appreciate. So, ultimately he felt a bit bad for that and left you alone. 

Work seemed to go by pretty quickly, and you were already on your way to the venue; the time reading 4:30 p.m, and you hoped setting everything up didn’t take long. Did you regret signing up? Maybe as exhaustion took over you as you drove. But you know that you wouldn’t later on once you had finished decorating. Plus, you felt bad that there were only two people who signed up before you. 

The venue was about thirty minutes away from the school, and when you walked in, the conference hall was completely empty besides the uncovered tables and chairs, but luckily, it wasn’t a huge room. But there were no decorations yet or centerpieces, and you felt like it was going to take a while. Harry arrived right when you did along with Kyle and Saya. 

Mrs. Morgan had assigned you all different jobs so the work would be faster and everyone would finally go home. You were assigned to draping curtains in the entrance and on the window. Harry was in charge of carrying tables and boxes in and out of the storage room of the hotel. Kyle and Saya were placing table cloths on the tables and seat covers, along with placing centerpieces. 

Everyone was working hard for about an hour, and you were on a ladder, reaching for the top of the door frame to hang one side of the curtain. Thankfully, you decided to switch your mules from work to sneakers because you probably wouldn’t have worked as fast as you were. 

Kyle and Saya followed the hotel manager to a different storage closet to get more table cloths for the food table as Harry was still carrying chairs into the room. But you were having trouble draping the sheer curtain over the curtain rod. 

You were completely alone in the room as sweat dripped down your back from how hard and fast you’ve been working until Harry came into the room with his sleeves rolled up as he carried four chairs that were stacked on one another. You hadn’t seen him come in as you were still trying to hook the curtain, and you always didn’t realize the ladder was slowly closing in as you kept moving around. And Harry quickly put the chairs down, rushing over to you as he saw the ladder tipping and you were still working. 

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as the ladder completely tipped over, causing you to fall off the ladder. You thought you were going to be met with the hard ground, but instead you were being caught in someone’s arms as you two hit the ground. Grunts came out of both of your mouths from the impact of the fall. Luckily, the ladder fell sideways rather on the both of you because that would have been a painful mess. 

“Oh my god,” you groaned, looking over and seeing Harry lying flat on his back with his eyes closed and one of his hands on his back. “Holy shit. Are you okay?!” 

Harry moved on his side to put pressure on his back as he was in a bit of a fetal position. Your body was sat against his as your back was against his stomach. 

“Fuck, that hurts,” he groaned out. 

“Harry, let me see if I can get some ice,” you were about to get up when he placed his available hand on your knee, stopping you from his touch. 

“No, don’t leave. Just…need a minute,” he said softly as his eyes were still closed. You nodded, staying in your seated position against him as you took your hand and rubbed his back. It was quite sweet, considering how you both normally acted towards each other, but you felt really bad that he was the one that had to take the pain. 

After a few minutes, he opened his eyes, looking up at the ceiling and remembering where he was. He sat up on his elbows, and you stood up to help him up. 

“You sure you’re okay?” You asked cautiously, not wanting him to collapse on you. 

“Yeah. Just a bit sore, but it’ll go away. Feel like I’m old and got a bad back now,” he tried to joke, hopefully lightening up the situation, making it humorous. But you were still worried as you held onto his arm to hold him up just in case. 

You scoffed amusingly, “Please. You’re thirty years old. You’re not gonna feel that until you’re maybe fifty.” Harry chuckled, telling you that you were right before you let go of his arm. “By the way, thank you for catching me. I didn’t even notice the ladder tipping over until it fully did. But I, uh, feel really bad that you had to take the fall,” you said, scratching your neck. 

“Eh, don’t worry about it. This pain will be temporary,” he brushed it off before taking a seat on one of the chairs for a moment to relax and not immediately go back to a strenuous task. 

“Let me know if you need anything, okay?” You said before walking away slowly, and he nodded. 

You two hadn’t been so nice or caring for each other like this, so it was definitely a new approach to it. But you didn’t mind it. Playing games with each other was fun, but you wished you had that sort of friendship where you could talk to him and not banter or bicker like a married couple because you think he was a genuinely cool and nice person, even though he really got annoying sometimes. Guess you just attracted annoying people, then. 

You took another glance at yourself in the rearview mirror to make sure your makeup and hair was okay before you got out of your car. You stood still next to your car, trying to see your reflection from the window as you fixed the top of your dress. A blush colored cami dress was looking amazing on your body with the straps crossing each other on the back with a slit on the side. You wore nude heels and dangly diamond earrings to accessorize. With your hair pulled back into a low bun, you thought you looked very nice--beautiful even. 

There weren’t many times when you got to dress up for the fun of it nor does your job require you to go full glam when going into work. But you think some of your students will love seeing you dress all pretty because they would always compliment you on your outfits. 

You walked in just on time, not wanting to be too early when no one is there or too late, but the perfect time. There were a decent amount of people already as the room was filled with teachers, staff, and some people from the school district; all celebrating the anniversary of the school. Everyone was dressed gorgeously--like you, probably having a blast wearing fancy clothes that was hanging from a hanger, waiting to be worn. 

The place looked great, and you were really happy with how everything turned out. The lights were dimmed a tad bit as LED lights were pointed towards the wall as music played softly through the speakers. 

Stephanie found you once you walked in as she took you to the bar because luckily, tonight’s event was an open bar, all thanks to Mrs. Morgan. 

“You look bangin’! That color is amazing on you,” Stephanie complimented as she hyped you up. She was practically the only person you’ve gotten really close with when you started teaching. While you were somewhat close to the other teachers, you and Stephanie hung out outside of school and gossiped your hearts away. 

“Please, you’re too kind, but thank you. You look great as well,” you said back after you did a little turn for her, causing you both to laugh as you sipped your mojito. 

You two chatted for a bit as she asked about setting everything up last night, and you told her about the incident between you and Harry. 

“See, I knew you would fall for him,” she said, making a pun out of it. 

“Ha ha, very funny. I really did feel bad for him though.” A slight frown pulled onto your face and Stephanie chuckled before you saw her brows raised. 

“Ah, speak of the devil,” she said, and you turned around to find Harry in a lovely double-breasted cream colored suit and a light blue shirt under it. You try not to ogle him too much because you know that he’ll catch on and tease you about you checking him out, so you look at him quickly to find him already staring at you. 

“Evening, ladies. Already talking about me?” He smiled as his dimples popped out, making you swoon for him a tad bit more tonight, but you quickly snapped out of your thoughts.

“She was telling me about your little incident yesterday,” Stephanie said, and Harry nodded. 

“Yeah, how are you by the way? Are you still doing okay?” You asked, placing your hand on his arm before quickly pulling it away as you realized that you hadn’t asked him if he could be touched, but he smiled softly as you at the action. 

“I am, thanks for asking. I took some pain reliever medication and iced my back, so I’m fine. Just a bit sore, but all good,” he reassured, and you simply nodded, glad to hear that he was somewhat better than he looked yesterday. “I’ll be around. Gotta mingle and whatnot,” Harry said before walking away. 

After an hour of mingling and eating dinner, you were sat with Stephanie at a circle table along with Harry, Penelope or Miss Nguyen, and three other teachers who were in a deep discussion over wine. Going against your liking, Penelope was being a little too flirty with Harry, and you had no idea where this tinge of jealousy came from. You were hoping to sit next to him and Stephanie, but your plate was moved to the seat over as you went to get napkins. So now, you were on the left of Penelope instead of Harry. 

You saw her touch his arm as you did when you first arrived, but this time, she didn’t pull her arm away, and you thought he might’ve liked her arm there. With sneaking glances at the two of them as Stephanie watched some of the staff play the activities, you took a deep breath and stood up from your chair. 

“I’m going out to get some air,” you told Stephanie, not looking back to look at Harry rather wondering if he was watching you as you walked out. 

You took a step outside through the side doors of the venue that led to a balcony of the hotel. The hotel was on a hill overlooking the coast, and the sun was at its peak of saying goodbye for the day. The golden light illuminated everything around you as you felt calm, watching the sunset as you leaned against the railing before undoing your bun and letting your hair fall free. 

“Hey,” a voice from behind you said, and you quickly turned around and saw Harry standing a few feet away from you with one hand in his pocket while the other was holding a drink. 

“Hi,” you said back, turning back to the coast as Harry walked to stand beside you, watching the sunset as well. 

“S’pretty, innit?” 

“Yeah, it really is,” you responded, not turning your head to look at him, but being captivated by how the view in front of you looks. 

“You look amazing, by the way,” he complimented, and you blushed. Hard. You turned your head towards him as you caught him eyeing you up and down, and you felt intimidated. 

“You look great as well. I love your suit,” you said, hopefully to cover up your nerves. He said a thank you to you, and you turned your head back to the view as Harry continued looking at you. 

And you didn’t notice Harry looking at you the entire time as you watched the sunset. You didn’t know how entirely gorgeous you looked as the gold light was being melted onto your skin, making you look more beautiful than you already are. You also didn't know that Harry couldn’t simply stop staring at you because he was taken back and practically speechless with how the slightest bit of wind that was blowing the right way, which made your hair flow perfectly. You were the epitome of beauty, he thought, and he captured a mental picture to remember you in this moment because it was surely his favorite. 

“My ex never really liked watching the sunset,” you suddenly said, and Harry looked over at you. “I’m sorry. That was really random.” 

“No, no. It’s okay. You can talk about anything,” he encouraged. 

“Well, he never really liked watching the sunset with me. Always said that it was a waste of time and it was boring, but I don’t think so.” 

“It’s really not boring at all,” he said. 

“Yeah, I agree. But people have their own opinions. The earth deserves to be watched over.” You looked straight into the sun as it wasn’t bright enough to blind you anymore as you watched it turn into an orange tone. 

“Why did you two break up, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“We just fell out of love with each other. We were together for three years, and the last few months of our relationship, there wasn’t any love. He stopped taking me out on dates, and when I asked if he wanted to go out, he always said he was busy. I believe he never cheated on me, but he just wasn’t in love with me anymore, and I can say the same for him—I wasn’t in love with him anymore. So, we had a mature talk and figured it was best to part ways,” you explained. 

“And are you happier because of the breakup?” 

“Much happier,” you simply said, and it was the end of that conversation. 

You didn’t know why you were telling Harry about your past relationships, but there was just something about the sunset where you could be your most vulnerable self. 

After a few moments of admiring the earth and its wondrous ways, Harry spoke. 

“Do you mind doing me a favor?” He asked. 

“What’s that?” You turned your head to look at him as you asked. 

“Do you, uh, mind taking a picture of me?” He asked nervously, not knowing how you were going to react to a random question. Your brows raised as you nodded slowly. You didn’t expect him to be the type to be in front of cameras or want his picture taken, but you did it for him anyways. 

“Oh yeah, of course,” you said, and his face perked up as he smiled softly. Harry took his phone out of his pocket and opened the camera icon before handing it to you. You took several pictures of him so he would have options to choose from, but he was standing completely still as he looked into the camera. “Maybe, like…move around?” 

“What d’ya mean?” 

“I don’t know, like give me some different poses,” you said, and a soft ‘oh’ came out of his mouth before he started to stand differently, occasionally giving you a smile. 

You tried hiding your face behind his phone as you looked at him through the screen, snapping at every chance you think that’ll be a great photo turnout. But you already know that either way, the photos will come out great no matter what. 

After a few more clicks, you smiled and gave his phone back to him as you stood there, watching him scroll through the photos before typing on his phone rather quickly right after. You thought if he was sending them to someone or sending them in general, and you wondered if it was a significant other. 

Trying not to look into it too much, you turned around towards the doors, and asked him, “Do you want to head back?” He looked up from his phone, putting it away. 

“Oh, yeah. Sure,” he followed you through the doors and towards the room where everyone was dancing on the dance floor. Harry had immediately parted ways with you as you saw him walk towards the bar while Stephanie dragged you on the dance floor. 

You kept the going down and throwing it back very minimal as these were the people you worked with, and only stepped side to side, swaying your hips just a tad bit. 

Harry, on the other hand, had already downed three tequila shots within six minutes, and including the drinks he had before he went outside with you, he was pretty buzzed. He watched you dance with Stephanie, and chuckled at how you were restraining yourself. He thought you were adorable. The whirling thoughts of his mind when he watched you take his picture was stuck in his head. Head to toe was splashed in the golden light giving you the most goddess-like look as a slight smirk was plastered on your face as you took his picture. Yeah, you were the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. 

It was a strange feeling to feel like this when it's been years of plotting against each other, and he hadn’t felt like this in a long while. The thumping of his heart had told him that he was falling. Just the mere vision of looking at you had made a butterfly in his stomach appear. You just had that effect on him. And it wasn’t like he was complaining, but he was definitely terrified of that feeling. 

So, that’s why he’s had three, now four, shots of straight tequila to ease his nerves and calm his mind as he watched you on the dance floor with a fifth shot in his hand. 

The music had turned into a much slower one, and the staff that brought their staff or significant other had taken over the dance floor as you walked back to the table to sit down. Stephanie brought her husband, who she immediately dragged to the dance floor, and you watched them smile and look at each other with hearts in their eyes as they swayed. You smiled, observing their faces and how in love they looked, somewhat wishing you had that as well. You hadn’t had a serious relationship in a long while--the last one being before you started teaching. 

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to find Harry smiling down at you with his hand out. 

“Would you like to dance?” He asked. You didn’t immediately grab his hand nor did you say anything; you just looked up at him in shock that he asked you. But after a few seconds, you grabbed his hand and nodded as he led you to the dance floor. 

Once you two were facing each other, you hesitantly wrapped your arms around his shoulder as he wrapped his around his waist. His hold wasn’t too high or too low, but it was placed on the right spot for you to feel comfortable, and you appreciated that. 

As you two swayed to the soft classical piano ballad music, your eyes were elsewhere; looking at the other people dancing and the people sitting to find that no one was watching you both and that didn’t matter. So, you trained your eyes towards Harry, and of course, he was already looking at you. Being under his stare was something you were somewhat used to, but when it comes down to it, it made nerves along with the flutter of your heart appear. It was as if he was looking deep into your soul, trying to figure something out, and it remains once he’s found what he’s looking for. 

“I was surprised you asked me to dance,” you said suddenly. You felt him pull you a bit closer, so your stomachs are pressing against one another, but not your chests, and your face was very close to his, making butterflies in your stomach present as you wondered if he had the same feeling. 

“Why’re so surprised?” He genuinely asked as he swayed you both in a slow circle. 

“Thought you might’ve asked Penelope to dance.” 

“Why’s that?” His brow crinkled, wondering what brought these questions to mind. 

“I mean, you were awfully close to her during dinner,” you said honestly, and Harry let out a chuckle, which you didn’t find amusing like you usually did. “What’s so funny?” 

“Are you jealous?” His face inched closer to you, and you could smell the alcohol on his tongue. With how fast he was downing those shots, it was slowly starting to kick in. 

“I’m not jealous. It was just an observation,” you said. 

“No, I think you’re jealous. Didn’t like seeing me give another teacher attention, huh? Just wanted to give it all to you, is that it?” He asked with a hushed tone in his voice. You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He was full on teasing you as you tried to ignore the arousal that was forming inside of you. 

“I’m not, okay? I was just genuinely wondering because you know, you think I’m annoying and whatnot, so I was surprised you asked me to dance,” you tried brushing it off, and Harry scoffed shaking his head. 

“You’re saying a load of bullshit right now, and you don’t even know how I feel. Can you use your mouth for something other than talking?” The words had come out like rapid fire, and he is fully blaming it on the alcohol because he would never say something like that sober. And you know he wouldn’t say something like that to you, so you found it humorous as you were a bit shocked you heard those words come out of his mouth. You looked at him with your brows raised and your jaw slightly open as it somewhat curved into a smile as you tried not to laugh. Harry hadn’t said anything else, neither had you, but you did give him a shoulder shrug as if it was telling him ‘we’ll see.’ 

The song had ended, and you and Harry made your way off the dance floor and to the table. It was nearing 8:30, which means the party was almost over in thirty minutes. So, you decided to leave a bit early to grab some dessert on your way home since you didn’t really like the selection at the party. 

“Think I’m gonna head home now,” you told Stephanie who made her way to the table. 

“Aww, okay. We’re gonna head out soon too. But drive safe and I’ll see you on Monday.” You two hugged each other, telling each other that you both had fun tonight before grabbing your clutch. 

“Uh, I’ll see you on Monday,” you told Harry. 

“I’ll walk out with you. I’m heading home as well,” he said, and you nodded your head as he took a last sip of his drink before you two headed outside of the hotel. 

The air was chilly as the sound of the coast was heard under the starry night that was above. You shivered slightly, turning to Harry as he was taking his suit jacket off and holding it out for you to wear it. 

“Oh, it’s okay,” you waved off. 

“Please, I insist,” he said, and you nodded before turning around, facing your back towards him as he slipped his cream colored suit jacket on your shoulders. 

The piece of clothing was warm and smelled like his usual tobacco vanille. As you were wearing it, you felt a sense of comfort, like Harry himself was hugging you, and you cherished the feeling of it, even if it wasn’t the real thing. 

“I’m parked over here. I can drive you-” you pointed to the left of the parking lot. 

“Oh no, it’s okay. I took an Uber anyway. Just gonna wait here for a few,” he said as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, blinking a few times from the bright screen. He was clearly buzzed, and couldn’t really think straight, so you took his phone out of his hands. 

“Let me drive you home. It’ll give me a piece of mind, yeah?” You offered, and by the look of your face, you were persistent, so he nodded, following you to your car. 

You started driving down the hill and onto the main street before you said, “Is it okay if I stop by the Sweet Treats before I drop you off?” You asked, referring to the dessert place about two miles away from your place. 

“Yeah, of course. S’bit early, so you can go wherever,” he replied as he leaned his head on the shoulder of the seat, clearly a bit sleepy. You let out a chuckle as you continued driving as Harry drifted to sleep. 

When Harry woke up, he looked around out the windows and found himself alone in the car until he saw you quickly walking towards your car with his suit jacket still around you. And all he could think was how great you look in his clothes. 

“Ah, you’re awake. I got you a cupcake and two cookies. Didn’t know what kind of flavor you like, so I just guessed and got you chocolate,” you said once you got in the car and handed him his box of sweets. 

“Oh, thank you. That’s very kind of you,” he smiles as he opened the box, and the sweetness of the desserts filled his nose. 

“Now, I’m going to need directions to your place,” you said as you started the car. 

Harry navigated you to his house, telling you to turn right here and turn left there. But you needed to make sure, asking him, “Wait, right here?” 

“Yeah, here,” he chuckled, playfully rolling his eyes as you were driving slow so you don’t miss the turn. And luckily, there were no cars behind you. 

Once you finally parked in front of his house, you noticed that he didn’t leave that far from you because you’ve been in this neighborhood before as your cousin lives a few houses down; it was probably a five minute drive to your place. 

“Thank you for the ride, and the dessert,” he said, turning his head towards you, and making no effort to get out of the car yet. 

“You’re welcome. Couldn’t let you be in an Uber while intoxicated--just doesn’t sit well with me,” you said honestly. Harry nodded, telling you that he appreciated it as he looked at you deeply.

“Also, about what I said when we were dancing--I’m sorry about that. That was out of line of me,” he apologized, feeling quite embarrassed from his words, and knowing that he was going to think about what he said and beat himself up over it after you leave. 

You let out a breathy chuckle, “No worries. It was quite funny. But maybe I could use my mouth for something other than talking.”

“W-What?” He gulped nervously, slightly turned on from your teasing. 

“Maybe one day you’ll find out,” you said with a sly smirk on your face as you watched Harry scratch his neck and run his hand through his hair nervously. “Goodnight, Harry,” you bid him goodbye, and that was his cue to get out of your car already. It wasn’t like you wanted to kick him out, but you wanted him to think about your words for the night. 

And since it was still too early to go to sleep, maybe you’ll think about his words to.

It was Monday, a month later after the anniversary party, and you had Harry’s mail in your hand as you decided to stuff it into your filing cabinets that hold future worksheets and your students’ progress. 

It wasn’t until lunch when you were having the pasta you made the night prior as you watched a fashion competition on Netflix when you saw Harry stomp into your room. 

“Where’s my mail?” He asked immediately, not bothering to say hi to you. 

Ever since the party, your moods had changed towards each other. Of course, you both still messed with each other and annoyed one another, but the mood and energy between you two was different. And you didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. 

“Gotta find it, Mr. Styles,” you said as you took a bite of your food as you eyed him. You could tell he was beginning to get frustrated with you, but you didn’t see a reason to stop because it’s the same way with you when he hides your stuff. 

“Just hand it over. I’m not in the mood to put up with this right now,” he rolled his eyes as he huffed. 

“Now, those aren’t the rules. You made me find it until you just laughed and pointed at me, so now you have to-” 

“I swear to god, just give me my damn mail!” He said in a loud tone, not technically yelling, but enough for you to stop talking and finally notice how angry he looked. “Fuck, just give me my fuckin’ mail, so I could get out of here,” he added, waiting for you to make an effort to give him his mail, but you were too in shock by his words and tone that you didn’t move. “Well?” He said, arms crossed, and you snapped out of your thoughts and got up, walking over to your filing cabinet. 

Once you handed him his mail, he immediately snatched it, flipping through it as he walked out of your classroom with no thank you, and you swore that you heard him mutter ‘fuckin’ annoying’ as he walked out causing your stomach to drop. 

You sat back down in your chair, pushing your glass container away and turned off your phone as you took deep breaths, trying not to make a big deal out of it. But of course it was a big deal to you. You had thought that your relationship with Harry was doing okay, and you weren’t at each other’s throats, but that hope had all washed away within a minute as he raised his voice with you as if you were a little kid. 

Normally, you wouldn’t take bullshit like that, but this one seemed to hit differently as your eyes started to tear up and your hands started to shake. You got up from your seat, fast walking to the staff restroom before you let it all out. Your tears made its way down your face as you covered your mouth as muffled sobs echoed through the tiled walls. 

A week later, you headed straight to your classroom, deciding that you weren’t going to move Harry’s mail around. 

There was an awkward tension between you two, and Harry’s at fault for it. He knew that he shouldn’t have raised his tone at you because it was completely unnecessary, and he knew better than that. He ultimately felt really bad for talking to you like that, and he didn’t even say please in a calm manner, which he should have. 

Last Monday when he got back to his desk, he immediately knew that he was wrong for how he spoke, so he had gotten up and walked back to your classroom, only to find you already headed for the staff restroom. And he hoped you weren’t crying, but he had a feeling you were. 

After that day, he had gone into your room to try and apologize the entire week, but you would either be talking to a student or avoiding him as you saw him enter your classroom, so you exited, saying an excuse just to be out of his presence. He frowned as he watched you walk away, but it was very understandable and he didn’t blame you whatsoever. 

Now, after a week of pondering what to say to you, Harry walked over to his mailbox to see all of the envelopes in his box. With a small frown, he turned towards Nina who was watching him, and he saw her shrug as she continued doing her work. He walked to your classroom to find you on your laptop, round tortoise framed glasses sat on your nose, and he thought you looked absolutely adorable. Sitting on the side of one of the students’ desks in the front row, you didn’t even bother to look up at him. 

“Hey,” he said. “Can we talk?” 

“About what?” You asked, still not looking at him, but obviously knowing what he wanted to talk about. 

“Please, look at me?” He pleaded, and he saw you take a deep breath in, taking your glasses off before looking at him. “I-I’m sorry. For last week. It was so unnecessary to talk to you like that and I regret it so much. You didn’t deserve that at all.” 

You nodded, “You’re right. I didn’t deserve it. But can you explain to me why you talked to me like that?” 

“I was waiting on something from my cousin back home. He had sent me some stickers that he made for the class, and I really wanted to give my students them already. And when I couldn’t find my mail, I got frustrated and annoyed, and I took it out on you, which I shouldn’t have,” Harry explained, and your face remained neutral. 

“You know, I would’ve eventually given it to you if you would’ve asked nicely, but you raised your voice and called me annoying when this is the kind of game we play. And it’s not an excuse to talk to me the way you did,” you said sternly, but also calmly. Harry felt like he was a kid getting lectured, which he thought this is probably how you looked like when your students got in trouble, and he thought that it was great how you’re so calm. 

“Yeah, it’s no excuse whatsoever. I feel really bad, and I’m really sorry,” he offered a small but sad smile as you looked him in the eyes to see if he meant it, and thankfully, you didn’t find a spec of lie. 

“I forgive you,” you said, and Harry lets out a deep breath. “But that doesn’t mean you go around talking to me or anyone like that ever again when they don’t deserve it,” you added. 

“Yeah, of course. It was just that moment, and I’m sorry it was you. But thank you for forgiving me,” he beamed gratefully and you nodded. “But just know that I think you’re more than annoying,” he confessed suddenly. 

“Do you?” You asked calmly, but on the inside, your heart was racing. 

“Yeah, way more than annoying. I mean I’ve known you for years, and I see you everyday. And I can’t believe this is the time when I’m about to confess this right now, but…” he took a deep breath before saying, “I like you. I really do.” Harry pursed his lips as you were looking at him with a shock expression, but your eyes were saying something else. 

They were almost telling him that you were happy to hear those words, but you didn't expect it and it was shocking to hear because of how sudden and how things escalated so quickly, but there was a hint of sparkle in your eyes, and for that, he remained hopeful. 

“You, uh, you like me?” You asked, wanting to make sure you’re not dreaming, but also wanting to hear it again. 

“I do. I like you. And I know it’s crazy to say it because the way we acted and treated each other seemed otherwise, but lately I’ve just been thinking about you nonstop and it’s driving me crazy,” he said with a small smile, still remaining hopeful.

“Harry-” 

“I totally understand if you don’t feel the same way,” he interrupted. “Because I mean who would like someone that messes and bickers with you every chance they get. But maybe that was the reason why I did it.” 

“What do you mean?” You asked curiously. 

“I guess… when I first met you, I thought you were way out of my league. And I know I put this front up to seem like I’m intimidating, but I’m not! I was actually intimidated by you,” he said honestly, and your eyes widened because you thought it was insane that this handsome man in front of you was intimidated by you. “And I kind of just wanted a reason for you to talk to me and see if we had this bond, and for some reason, I did a childish thing and stole your stapler-” 

“I knew it! You kept insisting that it was yours, but all of sudden ‘yours’ was gone and mine suddenly appeared,” you said excitedly causing him to laugh, which of course, made you join him as well. 

“Yeah, it was kind of immature, wasn’t it? But you started taking my things as well, and I was happy with that because at least we were interacting and talking y’know?” You nodded with a smile on your face. “And I may have acted cocky and whatnot, but I was just scared. I haven’t felt like this in a while, so I hid my feelings, and I couldn’t even believe myself when I confessed that I liked you, but I just needed to say it.”

“Harry, you know you should’ve just told me. But I get where you’re coming from. I was actually really intimidated by you, and I couldn’t believe I walked into the wrong classroom and practically trespassed,” you chuckled at the memory that was so long ago, but it was still so fresh in your mind. 

“It’s okay. You can trespass any time,” he joked. 

“But as time went by, I tried to deny my feelings for you, and then we started talking and it was less banter and more teasing, I knew I couldn’t push it away, so I accepted it,” you said, and he nodded his head with a look as if he’s trying to figure something out. 

“So, what you’re saying is…” he said, wanting to hear the full thing loud and clear. 

You laughed before you said, “I like you too, Harry.” 

The brightest smile was plastered on Harry’s face; dimples popping out with the crinkle by his eye present. You’d never thought you’d be the reason Harry would smile like that, let alone at you, but you weren’t complaining at all. His smile was contagious as you both let out giddy giggles, matching each other’s beaming grins. It was also beautiful as his cheeks had a tint of pink to it while running his finger on the tip of his nose, trying to hide his happiness. 

Suddenly, there was a knock on your door, turning both of your attentions to it, and Harry went to answer it since he was closer. When he opened the door, he found a small boy at your classroom doorstep, and you got up, walking over to your student. 

“Dawson? What’s up, buddy? Why’re you here so early?” You bent down as you talked to him, and you noticed that he had a sad frown on his face. “Are you okay?” 

“My mom dropped me off here early, so I’m here,” he said sadly, looking down at the floor. School started in about forty five minutes, which was usually too early to drop kids off as parents started dropping them off about twenty minutes before school. 

“Okay, that’s completely fine. Come in, yeah?” You stood on your feet, and moved out of the way to let him inside of the classroom. 

“I was wondering if I could talk to you?” He said once he put his backpack on his assigned chair. “You said that we could talk to you about anything, right?” 

“Yes, of course. Anything you like,” you said, reassuring him with a smile, and he nodded. 

“I’m going to head back to my classroom,” Harry said, and you nodded before Dawson spoke up. 

“No, wait!” He called out, and Harry stopped walking, giving your student his full attention. Dawson turned to you and asked, “Can Mr. Styles stay? He’s really nice when we have our buddy classroom days.”

You smiled at the young boy, “Of course he can--that is, if he can. Anything to make you comfortable.” 

“I’d be happy to stay for you, Dawson,” Harry offered him a smile as you walked over to the table in the back of the classroom that’s used for group work and teacher-students discussions. 

You sat at the octagon table, Dawson sitting on your right and Harry sitting on your left. You had completely turned your body towards Dawson as your back was facing Harry. 

“Dawson, since this is the first time we are speaking to each other one on one,” you turned around towards Harry, and softly grinned, and you turned back towards Dawson. “Well, two on one. But just know that whatever you say will stay between the three of us, and it will not leave this classroom, okay?” 

“Okay,” Dawson said softly. 

“Now, what’s on your mind?” 

Dawson began to tell you and Harry about how he feels neglected by his mother because of the reason that she’s starting to drop him off earlier than normal and not coming home until later as his aunt picks him up. He then told you two that he just feels a bit sad that he never gets to see his mom that much anymore, and how his father is rarely around, so he was quite torn. 

You felt your heart sink as you listened to him, making sure to not interrupt him as you and Harry listened to his words intently. 

“Okay, I’m done,” Dawson said, eyes a bit swollen from the tears that had fallen out of his eyes, and Harry got up to grab him a tissue box. 

“Dawson,” you started, “I’m sorry you have to go through that. Have you told your mom how you felt?” He shook his head as aggressively wiped his face with the tissue. 

“Never see her anymore.” 

“What about when she drops you off at school?” 

“I’m always eating breakfast in the car, so I never get a chance to,” he placed his elbow on the table as he leaned his face against his hand, while the other hand traced the outline of the polished wood. 

“What about your aunt? Have you told her anything?” Harry pitches in, and you slightly turn your head towards him, gratefully he’s being involved. 

Dawson’s face changed to a much lighter one as if he had a realization to what Harry had said. 

“Oh, I-I haven’t told her anything.” 

“Maybe if you’re comfortable, you can talk to her when she picks you up, and I’m sure she’ll tell your mom if you’re not comfortable doing so,” Harry said, and Dawson nodded in agreement. 

“I want you to know that, your mother not being there for you at the moment or your father not being in the picture does not have to do with you. Don’t think that it has to do with you, okay? You’re good enough and you’re an amazing person that I’m so lucky to have you in my class,” you said, emphasizing your words so it was stuck in his mind. 

“You’re a great student, and my class and I are happy we’re that we’re classroom buddies,” Harry adds with a bright and reassuring smile on his face that lightened the mood, and added a smile on Dawson’s face as well. 

“C-Can I give you two a hug?” Dawson asked, standing up from his chair. 

“Of course, come here,” you scooted your chair back, opening your arms as you welcomed him into your arms. 

You knew that he really needed this hug by how tight he was hugging you, but you didn’t mind, glad to comfort him for as long as he needed as you rubbed his back as he buried his face into your shoulder. Once he let go, you rubbed his shoulders for good measure before he walked around you and over to Harry. 

Harry widely opened his arms before Dawson placed himself between them as they both gave each other big hugs. You heard Harry whisper how proud he was of the boy in his arms, and your heart swooned at the sight, making you blush and practically have hearts in your eyes as you witnessed their moment. 

There was a moment when Harry looked up from Dawson’s shoulder to look at you. A hint of gleam sparkled in both of your eyes as you looked at each other. Although you’ve just confessed your feelings for each other, you knew that this was going to be completely special. 

You were sitting on the small couch that was in the back corner of the room. You were quite proud of this area of your classroom as you wanted to make it a comfortable place for your students to read or take a break at as you decorated it with a cream colored couch, a floral rug, and hung fairy lights along the wall. 

Sometimes you would take a seat on the couch during lunch when you were getting tired of sitting on your chair where your desk was, so it was a nice change up. 

With your container filled with your lunch on your lap as you looked down at your laptop, sat beside you and earphones in your ears, you saw Harry walk in with his lunch in his hands, a beaming grin on his face once he saw how comfy you looked. 

“Hey,” he greeted, taking a seat next to you on the couch. He completely turned his body towards you with his arm on the back of the couch as you did as well. 

“Hi,” you said with a smile. “What’s for lunch?” 

“Salmon with some veggies. I made it last night,” he said proudly, and you looked at his meal and ooh’ed. “Try some?” 

“Course I will. But you also just want me to boost your ego even more because I’m sure it’s good,” you teased. 

“Maybe. Open up f’me, yeah?” He said, cutting a piece of salmon and sticking a piece of green bean on his fork before bringing the fork up to your mouth. 

You tried not to think of his words so literally as there have been many times he would talk as if he was in the bedroom, not that you know anything about what he’s like in the sheets nor how you know his lips feel against yours. But you’re not complaining about his word choices; they do get you a bit turned on, but you simply couldn’t do anything about it. 

With your mouth open, he fed you a bite of his lunch and a ‘mm’ was heard from you as you chewed. 

“Wow, that’s really good,” you complimented the chef as you wiped your mouth with a napkin. 

“Well, thank you very much, darling,” he said, and you blushed. 

It’s been a month since you and Harry have known how you two feel about each other, and it was full of two days out of the week, eating lunch together. He had stumbled into your classroom one day, and asked if you wanted to have lunch together, and you said yes. So, lunch dates stuck, whether it’d be your classroom or his because he also has a comfy corner in his classroom with a record player next to the couch. When you two didn’t feel like staying inside, you would grab a bite to eat together. It also definitely made finding a place to eat much easier since you two found out you were both pescatarians. 

The mood is definitely different with each other as you two have slowly gotten to know one another as you tell each other about your childhood, past stories, interests, etc. You already knew that he was such a kind person, despite the bickering, but truly talking to him had confirmed your assumptions. 

Within the month had also made you earn a pet name from him. From your past relationships, you were always called babe (along with some nicknames from inside jokes), which in all honesty, you never really liked; it was a generic pet name from a significant other and it was an okay pet name. But hearing the word name ‘darling,’ especially from Harry, it was like butter. The name rolled off of his tongue, and you caved in as you continuously looked at his lips right after, wanting him to call you that multiple times. 

“I know my lunch isn’t all that interesting to feed you, but we can share a pie I made earlier this week if you’d like?” You said, looking down at your food as you only had a sandwich with avocado, tomatoes, and lettuce. 

“Sounds good,” he smiled before taking another bite of his delicious lunch. 

After a few minutes of talking about funny stories that happened during class and upcoming assignments, you changed the subject and nervously asked him a question that has been on your mind. 

“So, I was wondering…” you started, but trailed off as nerves crept up your skin. 

“That’s always interesting,” he teased. 

“Say, how about we go on a date? Like a real and official date?” You looked at him with hopeful eyes, and you saw a smirk slowly spreading onto his face as he blushed a bit. 

“Are you asking me out?” He was completely flattered and loved how you made the effort to ask him because he’s been thinking about it for an entire month, but was too nervous to do so. 

“Answer the question,” you chuckled. 

“I’m so flattered you're asking me. Y’know, really boosts my ego, let me tell you,” he stalled as he laughed, and you playfully rolled your eyes. 

When you had thought he was a kind guy, despite the bickering and being annoying with one another, the annoying Harry was still there. 

“Let me deflate your ego then, and take it back,” you joked, and his face immediately went down. His beaming smile as he teased and joked was gone and was replaced by a frown. 

“Hey, no. Don’t take it back. I was just messing with you,” he said softly, making you giggle from the change of moods he just went through. 

“Then answer the question, you big baby.” 

“Would love to go on a date with you. Of course I would,” he finally answered, and his smile, once again, was present. He reached over to hold your hand as his thumb caressed your skin. “I’ve been wanting to ask you since last month, but it was always a bad time or I would get nervous and come into your room to ask you a completely different question.” 

“Aww, that’s sweet. No need to be nervous anymore. But now I’m noticing that those days you came into my classroom, you always acted strange, but I brushed it off since this is so new and fresh still,” you explain, and he let out a breathy chuckle. 

“Yeah, those were the times when I was supposed to ask you on a date. But I’m glad you asked me, and I would absolutely love to go,” he smiled, still hand in hand with you. 

“I’m happy you said yes. I was wondering if you’d like to come over? I’ve been dying to try this new recipe out. It’s a Thai Coconut Curry rice, and I got it off YouTube, and I was watching it late at night and just wanted to make-” you paused, noticing Harry looking at you funny, but he was really just admiring how you’re just adorable when you ramble about things you’re passionate about. “I mean, if you think it’s too soon, I can look for a restaurant if-” 

Your idea of inviting him over had immediately been thrown out the window because he was looking at you funny, and was probably thinking that it was definitely too soon to be at each other’s houses, which you now see. But you didn’t know Harry was just simply adoring the way you talk. 

“No, no. I’d love to come over if you’d still have me. And I’d love to try that dish out,” he reassured you. 

“Really? It’s not too soon?” You asked, wanting to make sure he was okay with it. 

“Yes, I’m sure. And there’s no real timeline in how people should do things when they’re in a relationship. So, we’re going at whatever pace we both want,” he said, and you took in his words, thinking he was completely right. 

For the rest of your lunch breaks, you both scheduled a date and time, which was going to be this Saturday at 7 p.m, and as you suggested that time and day, you watched Harry look up as if he was thinking if he was available that day before he agreed to those suggestions. 

This was going to be the first date you’ve had in a long while, but you were excited knowing that it was with Harry.

It was a brutal four days of waiting for date night to finally arrive, and you’ve never been so happy until Saturday. 

You had barely gotten any sleep due to your thoughts racing on what to talk to him about and what you should wear, but you managed to get about seven hours of sleep, which was really well considering how late you stayed up. 

Saturday morning, you decided to wake up at eight a.m to go on a run. You had so much energy inside of you, despite waking up, and you needed to let it all out of you so you’re not too overly excited. So, you thought a good run would exhaust you for a few hours. 

You ran around your neighborhood and on the main road for a good two hours. You just had so many things on your mind that you were thinking that you lost track of time as your legs continued on as you were in a daze. 

It was a beautiful day. Although there were a bit of clouds, the sun was out and shining. Thankfully, not at a brutal temperature where you couldn’t go out for a run. But it was the perfect weather for the morning. 

You got back to your house at around 10 a.m, immediately heading for the kitchen for a glass of water. The  coldness streamed down your throat, making you sigh in relief as exhaustion took over you. With tiredness settling over you, you knew that you needed to shower before anything else as sweat was dripping down your back, making your shirt stick to your skin, so you made your way to the shower, stripping down as the warm water hit your skin as you washed off your morning run. 

By 12 p.m, you had lunch and caught up on some grading; being very proud and impressed all your students did really well on the assigned homework. After grading papers, you decided to take a quick nap before you had to go out and get some groceries for tonight’s dinner, and the last thing on your mind before you were lulled into sleep from your run, was how a particular man you were excited to see at night. 

Once you’ve woken up and gotten groceries, buying plenty of spices, veggies, and a Thai curry paste, it was 4 p.m, making you right on time with the schedule you had in your head. You started chopping the veggies before you sautéed them to a beautiful golden brown as the sizzle of the pan brought music to your ears. 

You had a show playing in the midst of cooking that you’ve watched two hour long shows that you didn’t realize the time was now six p.m, meaning you’d have to get ready. As you walked to your room, you heard the splatter of liquid hitting the ground outside, so you looked out your window, seeing the sky had turned grey as rain fell down. 

Quickly, you grabbed your phone, opening your message up with Harry before you typed: (bold) started raining hard just now! Be safe when driving, and see you soon! You hit send before opening up Spotify, playing ABBA to hype yourself up as you sang along while getting ready. 

You opted for a minimalistic makeup look since you were just at home, and a pair of black cropped flared trousers with a nice white blouse. You looked yourself in the mirror and felt satisfied with your look, giving yourself a smile before you took a deep breath as nerves were catching up to you. Checking your phone, the time read 6:55 and no text back from Harry, which you assumed he was getting ready or on his way. 

Keeping yourself busy, you checked on the dish you were making that was on low heat as it simmered, and wiping down the counter and fixing the throw pillows are your couch. Your tasks didn’t take that long, about seven minutes in total, as it had already passed 7 p.m. 

He would arrive any minute, you thought. 

But you thought wrong. 

You had waited thirty minutes before you sent him another text asking if he was on his way, but later on you got nothing. Worriedly, you tried not to let your mind think the worst, but it was difficult not to because he wasn’t answering his phone whatsoever and the weather was horrible. 

As you waited another hour and a half with a glass of wine sitting in front of you, you were starting to get angry. How could he stand you up and not call you? You had thought you two were doing really well, and he seemed to want to go on a date with you, so why would he change his mind so quickly? 

It was 9 p.m when you decided to call it a night a bit earlier than you planned, so you placed the food you made in a container and washed the pot before grabbing the plates and utensils you placed on the dining table, and putting them away. The entire time, you were silent as disappointment and an upsetting feeling hit you. You really tried not to cry as you did your normal skin care routine as if it was a normal night, but it wasn’t. 

But when your head hit your pillows, the disappointment had settled, making you release your tears, hating that you’re going to bed feeling the complete opposite as you did when you woke up, 

The night was slow as you watched the night from your bed, looking out at the window. It was most likely slow because you couldn’t sleep—only getting about three hours of sleep as you were woken up by the sun at six a.m. 

It wasn’t until about nine when you decided to get out of bed to start the day. You didn’t really have anything planned, but if you were to stay in bed, then you would continue being sad that your date didn’t show up. 

You were waiting for your coffee to brew when you heard your doorbell go off, grabbing your attention as you looked towards your door. You then looked down, noticing that you were wearing a flowy shirt with your pajama pants. Shrugging to yourself, you decided to walk to the door, not caring who’s behind it as you think that it may be your sister or cousin stopping by in the morning as they sometimes did. 

But you were completely wrong. 

It was the person who was supposed to be at your house last night just as he’s stood on your doorstep, but it’s the morning after, which doesn’t make it any better. 

You scoffed, shaking your head as if you couldn’t believe it. 

“You’re a bit late to dinner, don’t you think?” You immediately tell him as your words came out as an obvious tone. 

Harry expected those kinds of words to come out of you once you opened the door. He knew that you had just woken up, and it wasn’t smart that you were already in such a bad mood. Looking down at your pajama outfit, he tried not to let himself get too distracted by the way your nipples hardened under your white shirt that poked out due to the warmth of your house colliding with the coldness that is the outside. 

“I can explain-”

“Seems like you’re always explaining, huh?” You stressed, huffing as you were closing the door, but he quickly placed his hand on it, stopping it from closing him out. 

“No, please! I swear I have a good reason,” he pleaded. You looked him in the eye, and saw a hint of sadness, like he really just needed to explain it to you. 

“Y’know if you didn’t want to go out with me, you could’ve just told me that. Didn’t need to stand me up and have me wait for hours with a home cooked meal,” you opened the door a bit wider, but not moving so you could let him in. Instead, you crossed your arms as he stood at your doorstep. 

“I’m sorry. I did want to go out with you. But there was something I needed to do,” he said softly, looking down. 

“And you couldn’t even think to call me?” 

“I know I should’ve. I feel horrible, but my daughter needed my help, so I just couldn’t,” he confessed. Harry was really holding that in for a while, and he sighed in relief once he said the word. He noticed your change of face as it softens; you were taken back, and part of you was shocked because of how off guard that was. 

“D-Daughter?” 

“Yeah. I have a six year old daughter. She’s in the first grade with Mrs. Monet,” he confirmed with a small nod. He was really nervous telling you as his hands shook and his heart pounded, not knowing how you would take his news. 

“How did I not know this?” You said, more to yourself than asking Harry. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I just…I didn’t know how you would take it, so I refrained from telling you,” he apologized. And he did notice that it was like he was apologizing to you a lot (the other time was from when he raised his voice at you); it wasn’t like he had trouble expressing his words or needs to say something, he just needed a minute to gather his thoughts and wait for how other people react to what he has to say. 

“Harry, I teach the third grade where I absolutely adore my students, so I should love kids in general. I’m gonna take the news well,” you said more lightly, and your words made Harry’s shoulders drop as he relaxed a bit more. “What’s her name?” You asked as your anger with him had completely flew out the door, excited to hear all about her. 

“Her name is Bella Anne,” he smiled as he looked down. You wondered why he was always looking down as if he was a shy kid, but you brushed it off until he spoke again. “I know it’s a lot to take in and I still have to explain what happened, and it may be too soon to others, but again, we’re on our own timeline…” 

“What are you trying to say?” You asked curiously. 

“Would you like to meet her?” He asked nervously, and a big smile was placed on your face as you excitedly nodded your head and said yes. “So, would right now be too soon?” 

Your eyes widened, “Like right now?” 

“Yeah, she’s actually right here,” Harry looked down and averted his eyes slightly towards the side, right next to the door frame as he brought his hand out. And that was when you knew why he was always looking down so subtly. 

The little girl wearing blue denim overalls, a white t-shirt with a tan coat over along with some white sneakers, held her father’s hand as she looked up at you with her green eyes; the same as Harry’s. Your eyes immediately sparkle as you look at her, bending down so you’re eye level with her. 

“Hi, Bella. It’s nice to meet you,” you smiled at her as you greeted her. She shyly smiled as she waved at you before looking up at Harry causing you to look up at him as well to see what he had to say. 

“Go on, bub. Ask her what you wanted to ask,” he shook her hand in encouragement as Bella looked back at you. 

“Have you had breakfast?” Bella finally spoke, and your heart flutters at how cute you think her voice is. 

“I actually haven’t had breakfast yet. Why do you ask?” 

“Because we brought breakfast for you!” She let go of Harry’s hand before she bent down to pick up the paper bag, smiling as she held as much as she could up. You gasped, placing your hand on your cheek from the thoughtful gesture. 

“Well, I’ll only eat the food on one condition,” you proposed. Bella’s face dropped as she waited for you to tell her what that condition was, glancing up at Harry quickly before looking back at you. “You two have to join me for breakfast.” 

With that, her face lifted once again as she beamed at you and quickly said an okay. You opened the door and moved out of the way so Harry and Bella could walk in. Bella skipped into your house with no hesitation as Harry called out for her, but you told him that it was okay. 

“You didn’t need to do this,” he told you, feeling bad that he hasn’t even told you the full story of what had happened last night, and you being the angel that you are, openly invited both of them into your house when you had every right to slam the door in his face. 

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll talk later, but for now, let’s eat? I got coffee ready,” you said, brushing it off, and he nodded, still knowing that the conversation needed to happen. 

He followed you to the dining table where Bella had already taken the food out of the bag. She sat there proud of her contribution, and Harry said ‘good job’ and ‘thank you’ to her as he always did when she helped set the table. You got three plates from the cabinet and utensils from the drawer; the same ones you set from last night, but this time, with a plus one. 

You and Harry opened the containers of food as there were various breakfast dishes for the three of you to share. 

“So, Bella. What’s your favorite movie?” You asked, wanting to get to know her better. 

“I like Mamma Mia! That’s one of my favorite movies, but the next one would have to be The Princess and the Frog!” 

You gasped, “Mamma Mia is my favorite movie too! And The Princess and the Frog is an excellent choice.” Bella nodded, agreeing with you. 

Harry watched the two of you interact; talking about all of your interests and dislikes, most Harry already knew about, so he sat back and ate as he thought the sight before him was the most precious thing he’s witnessed. He’s noticed Bella’s eyes gleam as she talked her heart out, and how you gave her your full attention when she did. And he thought that the interaction and connection was so important to him when he introduced a potential love interest to his daughter. The bond between you and Bella wasn’t like anything he had seen before, and he was grateful it was with you. 

After an hour of talking at the table, Harry told Bella it was okay if she wanted to play on her iPad for a bit, and she nodded her head before asking you if it was okay. 

“Of course you can, sweet,” you said, giggling a bit because she felt the need to ask you, but you thought it was sweet; the pet name completely slipped out as if it were natural for you to say it, but you think it really suits her, and by the way her eyes lit up when you called her that, you think she likes it as well. 

Bella opened her backpack, grabbed her iPad out, before walking to Harry, whispering to him. 

“Go on and ask her,” he said to her before she walked around the table to you. 

“Do you think I can get the WiFi password please?” She asked politely, smiling to yourself as kids nowadays know so much of technology from a very young age. 

“Of course,” you said before she unlocked her iPad. 

You noticed her wallpaper, all too familiar because you were the one who took the picture. It was a picture of Harry in front of the sunset with his mouth open as he smiled with his two hands up, throwing peace signs at the camera. 

“I like how you put your wallpaper as your daddy,” you complimented, looking up at Harry as he blushed. 

“Me too! He went to this party type of thing, and I told him to take a picture in front of the beach!” She beamed. 

“Yeah, bub. She was there,” Harry pitched in. 

Bella suddenly gasped loudly, “Are you the pretty teacher that took his picture and bought us cupcakes?!” She asked excitedly. 

“Oh, uh, yeah. That would be me,” you said as you nervously chuckled. 

“Thank you! Those cupcakes were so good!” She thanked you, remembering how good those cupcakes tasted, and you told her that you were glad that you liked them. 

After you typed in your WiFi password, you told Bella that she could sit on the couch in the living area. 

“Twenty minutes, okay?” Harry called out as she walked away. 

“Okay!” Her soft voice yelled back as she took a seat on the couch. 

Your head turned towards Harry as he turned to you as well. Both of you had a moment of silence as you two looked at each with a soft and admiring look. Things were way different now as you now know Harry has a daughter, but in all honesty, you don’t mind it whatsoever. You’ve managed to adore that little girl in a matter of an hour and a half, and you think she’s the most beautiful little girl ever. 

“So the pretty teacher, huh? I liked her wallpaper,” you said with a mischievous grin, and Harry snickered. 

“Yeah, I kind of underexaggerated--should’ve said ‘the gorgeous teacher that I like who took the wallpaper,’” he flirted, and you raised your brows as you blushed, thinking that was incredibly smooth of him. After a minute of thinking how to go about this conversation, you spoke up.

“Do you want to tell me about last night?” You asked, and Harry nodded. 

“Bella was a bit in a bad mood from the morning she woke up. Couldn’t really do anything to please her, so I was pretty frustrated because she couldn’t really explain what was happening to her, just threw a tantrum while holding her head, and then I figured out that she had a headache, and that’s no fun,” he explained, and you nodded as he said so. “It was literally hours of crying nonstop for hours. The only time she stopped crying was when I gave her something to eat,” he chuckled. 

“Everyone stops being pouty after some food,” you joked. 

“She did for a bit, but then it was right back to crying. My mum came over because she was supposed to watch her while I was with you, and usually her Nan would cheer her up, but not this time. After a few hours of trying to comfort her, she started becoming clingy, and when I would leave her side, she would just start crying. By this point, I was just exhausted, so I held her as she slept, which then resulted in me sleeping, also thinking I would wake up just in time, but waking up at midnight.” 

The look on his face was a disappointing one as he couldn’t believe he missed the first official date, and if you were to forgive him, he’d make it up to you with every date you would give him. 

“I understand, H. I can imagine being a single parent is hard. At least, I hope you’re single,” you tried lightening up the moods. 

“Yeah, definitely single,” he confirmed with a smirk.

“Well, maybe not for long,” you teased at the fact of becoming his girlfriend sooner or later, and his heart started to race. 

“Oh yeah?” He smirked. “Is that what you’re thinking?” 

“Yeah. Are you?” 

“I’ve been thinking about it, darling,” he responded honestly, glad to know you’re on the same page. 

He could possibly ask right now, knowing you feel the same way about him as he does you, but with not showing up for the date and practically throwing having a daughter at you, it wasn’t the right time. He wanted it to be special, not during a time when he was explaining why he screwed up. 

“Good. I’m happy we’re thinking the same thing.” 

“Me too.” 

There was a moment of quietness between you two, and the only thing that was heard was Bella’s game that she was playing on her iPad and the thumping of both of your hearts. Harry checked the time on his phone, realizing that he had to leave. 

“What are your plans for today?” He asked. 

“Just clean up around here, and perhaps go to the farmers market before they close.” 

“Sounds lovely. The weather’s nice after all that raining last night,” he said, and you agreed. “I’m really sorry I wasn’t here though.” 

“Harry, stop apologizing. Bella’s your priority and I totally understand.” He sighed deeply before nodding his head. 

“Say, how about this: bring me that lovely dish you cooked yesterday for lunch tomorrow because I would love to try it, and this time, you come over to my house on Saturday for our date? I’ll cook you dinner,” he suggested. 

The corners of your lips perked up as you nodded, “I’d like that.” 

“Great. But we’ve got to go to my sister’s house right now. Can I help you with the dishes really quick before we leave?” Your face softened even more, thinking of how kind and helpful he is. 

“No, I got it from here. Thank you, though.” 

You and Harry got up as he called out for Bella, telling her that it was time to leave. Harry helped put her coat on as he muttered something to her. Bella walked over to you, and you bent down as you smiled at her. 

“Thank you for letting us have breakfast with you and letting us into your home,” she opened her arms, and your heart fluttered as you opened your arms as well, taking each other in for a hug. 

“It’s so great to have you both. You’re welcomed here anytime,” you said against her ear, and Bella hugged you tighter and you rubbed her small back. 

After you two let go of each other, you walked them to the door, a bit sad that they had to leave, but you’re reminded that you’ll see Harry tomorrow and hopefully Bella around school. 

“I’ll see you two soon. Drive safe, yeah?” You told Harry, and he nodded. 

“Always do. I’ll text you?” You nodded, reaching up to give him a hug. 

It was a quick hug that only lasted about five seconds, which was way too quick for your liking, but when you two let go, Harry pressed his lips against your cheek, and that totally made up for it. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he smiled, and nothing came out of mouth, so you nodded instead and waved at the two. 

You watched them get into the car and drive off down the street, far enough where you couldn’t see them, so you watched back into your house and closed the door, placing your palm on your cheek as you felt the warmness of your skin heat up from the softness of his lips. And you hoped that you would get to feel his lips again.

Meanwhile as Harry was driving towards Gemma’s house, Fleetwood Mac was playing through the bluetooth of his phone until Bella spoke up, causing him to lower down the volume. 

“I really liked her,” she said. 

Harry smiled, agreeing with her, “Yeah, me too, bub.” 

“You’re right--she is pretty,” she confirmed, and Harry chuckled. 

“Very pretty.” 

“I hope I have her as my teacher when I get to the third grade.” Harry gasped, looking into the rear view mirror. 

“What?! You don’t want me to be your teacher?” Harry asked her, but knowing that his own daughter can’t be in his class, according to the rules and policy of the school. 

“I mean, maybe. But we might get annoyed with each other,” she stated, and Harry definitely agrees with her, but also loves how she’s not afraid of speaking her mind. “I hope I see her again soon,” Bella said, looking out the window as if she was in a dramatic movie. 

“You will, bub, you will.” 

And he meant what he said because Harry plans on keeping you around for a very long time. 

It was Friday after school when you heard someone say ‘knock knock’ from the entrance of your classroom. You looked up from your laptop to find Harry peeking his head out into the door frame. 

“Hi! Come in,” you said, standing up and taking your glasses off. Harry fully stands up straight, walking into your classroom. You walked towards him until a small figure that is Bella who is running straight towards you, excitedly. 

“Oh, hi sweet!” 

“Hi!” 

“We were just about to leave, but figured we could stop by and say hi--or goodbye since we’re leaving,” Harry chuckled. 

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you two. Well, I’m glad you two stopped by. I’m probably staying here for another hour or so,” you said, and you think that was probably the reason you also never knew Harry had a daughter because you two never leave at the same time. 

“I also wanted to give you these,” Bella chirped, grabbing the box of cookies from Harry’s hands before giving them to you. “We made you these last night!” 

“Wow, thank you so much. I’ll be sure to have some after I have dinner, but I just know they’re really good.” Bella nodded her head in joy. 

“I heard you’re coming over tomorrow. I’m sad I won’t be there because I’ll be with Aunt Gem,” she frowned slightly. 

“Yeah, I will be. But how about this: next weekend, with your dad’s permission and if you two aren’t busy that weekend, we can go to the park? Have a little picnic there and play some games?” You suggested that idea to her, and she immediately said yes. 

“I’m definitely up for that plan,” Harry said, smiling from ear to ear as Bella jumped eagerly. “But for now, we really do have to go.” 

You hugged Bella once more, telling her you couldn’t wait for your picnic together before hugging Harry as well. You became flustered as you remembered the time he kissed you on the cheek. And it happened again--every time you two had lunch together, he kissed your cheek hello and goodbye, and you blushed every time. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Tomorrow,” you confirmed. 

And you couldn’t wait for the evening.

As you knocked on Harry’s door, you were filled with nerves. 

The night was a bit cold out, so you wore a pair of black jeans, topped with a red leopard top, and some three inch black booties, and of course, a black coat for outside. In your hands, you held two bottles of Chardonnay--a wine that is paired well with seafood. And although you don’t know what he’s cooking up, you do know you two are pescatarians, so it saves you from roaming down the wine aisle. 

“You look absolutely gorgeous,” he complimented once he opened the door as he looked up and down at you. Harry was wearing a light blue vertical pinstripe button down with cream colored pants. His sleeves were rolled up, and his hair was pinned back with a clip. “Oh, sorry,” he said once he felt his clip that was still in his hair. 

“No, don’t be sorry. You look really handsome,” you complimented back. 

“Thank you. Come in,” he moved to the side of the door, stepping out of the way so you could walk in. 

The Styles’ residence was a very cozy and welcoming home. You had already felt welcomed by the presence of Harry, but his home just made you feel even more welcomed and loving. It was the perfect size, not too big where it looks empty, but not too small so Bella can still run around. There were pictures hung up on the walls, a fireplace, and neutral colored furniture that complimented Prussian colored walls. 

He led you to the kitchen, and you thought the kitchen was lovely as well with white cabinets and potted plants along the backsplash of the kitchen, which you assumed they were fresh herbs. 

“So, I made some seasoned shrimp, and bought some ingredients that I’ve chopped up already for some shrimp tacos? We can do our own if you’d like,” he said proudly. 

“I’d love that. Do you need help with anything?” 

“Yeah, if you don’t mind?” You shook your head. “Do you mind grabbing the toppings in the fridge? They’re all in bowls.”

You made your way over to his silver refrigerator and took out all the bowls you saw, placing all of them on the counter in a line. Harry turned the stove off before grabbing two plates from the cabinet on the side of the stove, and handed one to you. 

“So, these are raw tortillas, which I’ve already cooked and placed on the pan, so it’s really good.” 

“Everything smells amazing. I can’t wait,” you smiled at him. 

Impulsively, Harry leaned forward and placed his lips on your forehead as a thank you. Not really knowing he did it until he pulled back, you beamed at him, thinking the gesture was sweet and made your heart pound. 

You and Harry assembled your shrimp tacos together, giggling when you both would reach for something at the same time, causing your hands to touch before one of you pulls back shyly. After, you followed Harry to the dining table, and it was a beautiful grey wood table with cream colored cushioned chairs. And you came to the conclusion that everything about Harry’s house was beautiful, including Harry and Bella. 

“Thank you for coming,” he said before taking a bite of his taco. 

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” You asked, and he gave you a sad look before you realized what he meant. “Harry, we’re passed that. It was one time, and you had to take care of your daughter. Yeah, I was angry when I was waiting for you, but only because I didn’t know what was going on. But I’m not mad anymore. Please, don’t beat yourself up with that.” 

“Yeah, you’re right. I still feel bad about making you wait,” he frowned. 

“Don’t. I’d wait for you if I have to,” you said, your words coming out as a double meaning to it. 

As you and Harry ate, you complimented him again on the food as you both drank a glass of wine. 

“Tell me about your family?” Harry asked. 

“Hmm. Well, my parents are divorced. They have been since I was sixteen, but they still have a really great relationship with one another. They see each other occasionally, not often. But I have a younger brother; he’s two years younger than me and he works at a magazine company in the marketing department. My dad is in the construction business, and my mom is a pharmacist. Not really much to tell, we were--are a great family,” you told him, smiling to yourself as you remember how lucky you are to have the family that you have. 

“Do you see them often?” 

“Not as much as I should,” you replied honestly. Your family lives about ten hours away from you by car, which does not cooperate with the school schedule. But you do see them on holidays and whatnot. “Can I ask you a question now?” Harry nodded nervously. 

“What’s your relationship like with Bella’s mom?” 

“Uh, well…we were together for the last two years of uni. We moved in together during those two years, and everything was great until she got pregnant. She kept saying that her life was over, but I kept telling her that everything was going to be alright. It was pretty rocky from then. When she had Bella, I immediately fell in love with my baby. She was this precious little thing in my arms, and I was committed, y’know? But she didn’t feel the same way. She was having trouble bonding with her, and I told her that that sometimes happened and she shouldn’t give up, but one day, she told me that she was over everything. That she’s in the peak of her career and that she’d rather travel. Of course, that turned into an argument, but at the end of the day, that was her choice, so I didn’t bother anymore.” 

“Does she still see Bella?” You asked hesitantly, and Harry can sense it. 

“Maybe once a month? If not, then every other month. But they only see each other for about an hour, and that’s about it,” Harry said, and you nodded, not saying anything. “If you’re wondering, I don’t love her anymore, like, I’m completely over her. Just because she’s Bella’s biological mother, that doesn’t mean I love her,” he said, wanting to make sure you knew. 

You chuckled softly at his assertiveness, “I know you don’t love her. You’re a wonderful father to Bella.” 

“I try,” he said shyly. 

“And that’s all that matters. She completely loves you and she looks up to you,” you told him honestly from what you observed. Harry doesn’t say anything but take in your words, and his heart flutters from it because everyone needs a bit of encouragement; it helps them keep going and to not give up. 

There were no words that fell between either of your lips as there was no need for it; just the unspoken connection that you two shared as you stared at each other so intently, silently sharing a bond with one another that will mean something so deeply to you hearts. A blush settled on both of your cheeks, and it definitely wasn’t the wine because it was so much stronger; Harry had that kind of affect. 

Harry placed his arms on the table, slightly leaning in. You did the same, and your faces were inches away. His hand reached up to brush your hair behind your ear before placing his palm on your cheek, your skin immediately heating up. As he looked at you, his thumb brushed your cheek and it was the most soothing and innocent action anyone has ever done to you, and it made goosebumps on your skin rise. 

“Can I ask you something?” Harry asked. 

“Anything,” you said softly. 

In a moment of weakness where you would let this man do anything to you, you felt strong and powerful. You felt confident and beautiful. And you think that is so important in seeking a partner because they should make you feel like that even with the simple act of staring. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Please do.” 

Harry smirked, glancing down at your lips before looking back up at your eyes--something he’s accustomed to doing to you, and you noticed every time. 

He placed his forehead against yours, nose touching as your lips were just a small movement apart. Harry’s hand moved closer to your mouth as he took his thumb and placed it on your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly. You were breathing deeply as you didn’t expect him to do that, but you were nonetheless turned on by it. 

And when he went to caress your cheek again, he finally leaned forward and kissed you. 

It was like everything you imagined. Through the years of tension that was building up, stealing each other’s belongings, the bickering, the days of daydreaming in class of how his lips would feel against yours, and all those nights imagining his lips against your skin—it all came down to something so explosive but marvelous at the same time. 

The taste of Chardonnay adding to his own was something so sweet as his tongue brushed against yours as you grabbed the back of his neck to bring him in closer. Your lips molded together as if it were one, and there was no hint of rushing it even further. It was sweet and slow, taking in one another’s feel as the spark between you two heightened and bursted. 

Once you two pulled back, and the appearance of swollen lips and being breathless, you two looked at each other and giggled, finally relieved that happened. 

“Not sure if this is too soon, considering this our first date, but will you be my girlfriend?” He asked nervously, and your kissed lips turned up, smiling brightly at him. 

“So, when you meant soon, that meant the next week, huh?” You teased, not completely answering his questions straight away. 

“Precisely,” he chuckled, knee shaking under the table. 

“But I thought you’d never ask sooner, so yes. I will be your girlfriend.” Beaming, you held his hand as you said so, and Harry’s face dropped. 

“Really? You’re not messing with me, right?” He said shockingly. 

“Of course I will! How could I say no?” You placed your hands on the sides of his face and caressed your thumb, meeting your pointer finger as you pinched his cheek ever so gently in a comforting way, and not childish one. And Harry finds it sweet and it might be one of his favorite things if you keep doing it. 

Harry took your lips in with his again, knowing he won’t get used to the feeling of having your lips on his. It was a surreal feeling that he’s been wanting to happen for a very long time, and he’s talking about years, way before he even confessed his feelings. 

After a few minutes of kissing and getting used to each other’s soft lips, Harry suggested moving to the living area. So, you two cleaned up after much declining from Harry as he rejected your help, but you helped him anyway. 

Taking a seat on his couch as you waited for Harry to open the wine in the kitchen, you took a look around the living room. It was very warm and comforting; it made you feel safe. From the moment you stepped into his home, it had that sort of feel of security, like you were being wrapped up in a warm hug of love and safeness. And you absolutely loved it.

Harry finally joined you, taking a seat next to you as he poured more wine into both of your glasses—you two having the same amount. 

“What’s your family like?” You asked, only knowing the basics of them. 

“Well, as you know, I’ve got a sister; grew up with her and my mum. My parents got a divorce when I was seven, and it was a bit weird. I was young at the time, so I didn’t really know how to deal with it, but luckily mum always told me that it didn’t have to do with Gem or me,” Harry remembered that day so vividly as him and Gemma were sat on the couch of their childhood home as his mum and dad was in front of them. 

“Did you still see your dad?” You asked. 

“Yeah, we did all the time. I still do see him to this day. He was always an amazing father; never left us worrying. He’s an amazing granddad to Bella, and I really love their relationship.” 

“That’s amazing,” you smiled fondly at him, and Harry agreed. 

For the next hours, you cuddled up to Harry as you both talked about anything and everything as you two were a bit tipsy off your friend called Chardonnay, and off one another as the kisses hadn’t stopped. You hadn’t realized you were talking for so long that it was almost midnight, and you suggested you call it a night to get out of his hair. 

“Wait, how about you stay the night?” He suggested instead. 

“I shouldn’t,” you had sobered up during the last hours as you told him you’d pass on another glass of wine, to which he stopped drinking as well. 

“No, please. I insist. I know that you’re a bit sober, but I don’t want you driving like this anyways,” his hand met your forearm, rubbing it slightly as a way to convince you, and the mere touch is enough for you to say yes. 

“Okay,” you complied, nodded your head. Harry smiled, grabbing your hand as he led you to his room. 

Walking into his closet, he told you to pick anything you’d like to wear as he went to change into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, but hoping you’d be okay with him sleeping shirtless. 

You opted for one of his band tees and one of his a pair of shorts that were actually pretty short on you, so you were eager to see what it would look like on Harry. You met him in his restroom as he handed you a toothbrush and a makeup wipes, telling you that Bella liked to do makeup on him sometimes, so he bought wipes for it, and you told him that the next time she does it, to invite you over. 

Once you and Harry got ready for bed, you had felt like you were intruding, but he reminded you that you weren’t and that if you wanted to sleep in the guest bedroom that he would be okay with that. But you wanted to spend the night with him, so you climbed into bed with him, the worries about things being ‘too soon’ or ‘too quick’ flew out the window as you both were on your own timeline of your relationship. 

Harry pulled you into his bare tattoo chest, and luckily you were totally okay with him sleeping without a shirt on. You were amazed with his inked body, thinking how beautiful it is and wanting to look at every single detail of art that’s permanently on him. He kissed your forehead as you two made light conversation before your eyes dropped and slowly closed. 

You were in his arms, sharing a bed with him for the first time on the night of your first official date where he asked you to be his girlfriend and your first kiss with him. 

Everything had happened so fast, but with the warmth of his arms around you, feeling ultimate safety, it felt so right. 

The next morning arrived and Harry already knew that the night prior was the best sleep he’s ever had. 

He had been sleeping well, but he didn’t know what sleeping with you felt like until last night, and he loved every bit of it, even though he only had memory of the moment before falling asleep and waking up to you. 

The hold on his girlfriend’s arms became tighter as he woke up from the morning light that was peeking through the shutters. It was a quiet Sunday morning; no one in a rush to get anyone as it was everyone’s day to sleep in. 

The position you both were in as you cuddled was an interesting one. Harry had woken up to you both facing each other as Harry's arm was under your neck and your arm on his waist. But what was different was that his thigh was between your legs, squeezed together by them. 

He didn’t want to move because that’ll wake you up, he’s sure. So, he laid still, brushing off the hairs on your face as he watched you peacefully sleep. You were quite adorable as you slept, even though there was a bit of dried up drool on the corner of your mouth. But still adorable. 

After a few moments of laying there, his eyes were slowly starting to close as the silence took over, making him sleepy again. But after a minute of having his eyes closed, movement from you had startled him awake again. 

You were still sleeping, and your position hadn’t changed, only the movement of your hips slightly grinding down on his thigh in your sleep had left him wide awake. He thought it was a mere coincidence of you jolting, but as you continued to do it, he knew that you were having some sort of dream. And he hoped it was about him. 

Harry had been semi hard since waking up, but he felt himself start to grow harder in his pants as you let out quiet whimpers. He leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to your lips before kissing around your entire face in order to wake you up, thinking he could get used to this. 

You stirred, but your hips didn’t stop, and Harry continued to kiss your face until you opened your eyes and yours locked with his as you started back a tad bit, looking at him. 

“Morning, darling,” he greeted, bringing you back into him. There was a bit of a smirk on his face, and your eyes widened, remembering the dream you just had before you woke up. The familiar heat between your legs that made its appearance every time you had a glass or two was being relieved by Harry’s thigh. 

“Oh, god. I’m so sorry,” you said, moving back to push his leg out from between yours, but he pulled you back in, placing his leg between yours again. 

“No, no. C’mere. Don’t be sorry. Were you dreamin’?” He asked, voice deep and raspy from the slumber. And it only added to your arousal as you felt very wet inside of your panties. 

“Uh, yeah. I was,” you replied, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand as you stretched, hoping to hide away the embarrassment you’re feeling. 

“What about?” He consulted with a smirk on his face. You still had your eyes covered, but you know him all too well to know that he has a mischievous grin on his face, and you know yourself all too well to know that you’re red. Harry grabbed your wrists gently, pulling your arms. “C’mon, don’t hide from me please.” Once he held your arms down, you opened your eyes, meeting his gaze once again. “Wanna tell me about your dream?” 

“It’s embarrassing,” you muttered. 

“M’sure it’s not. I’ll tell you something ‘embarrassing’ if you tell me,” he emphasized ‘embarrassing’ as a sarcastic tone because he knows that it’s not really anything to be ashamed of. 

After a few moments of thinking, wondering if Harry would laugh at you, you huffed as you told him. “Every time I have a few drinks, I tend to have some sex dreams.” 

“Yeah?” He smirked. “What was your dream this time?” He asked curiously, but the look on his face tells you that he already knows and just wants you to say it. 

Figuring that you’ve already confessed that you had a wet dream, you told him honestly. “It was about you.”

Harry’s brows raised at that, shifting closer to you before he briefly kissed your cheek. He hadn’t said anything, and it’s driving you insane because here he was, telling you to tell him, and once you did, not a word out of his mouth. 

“Are you not going to say anything?” Your brows furrowed. 

“How about you tell me all about your dream?” He suggested, and the crease on your brow flattened. 

“W-What?” 

“Yeah. Then maybe after, we can make those dreams into a reality.” 

There was no stutter in his words. No lie in what he said. He had this raging hard on below him, and he knows that you’re probably wet already, so why not help each other out? After all, you two are together. 

“How does that sound?” He asked when you hadn’t said anything, dipping his head down to kiss your neck. “Do you want that? Because it’s okay if you don’t. Although, I’d still like to hear about your dream-”

“No, no! I want that. I want that so bad, please,” you pleaded, eyes looking into him so innocently when your dreams were about him railing you. 

“Do tell then, darling,” he gave you a kiss to your lips before, pulling back too quickly, so you pulled him by the neck, reconnecting your lips again. 

Unlike last night’s kisses, this one was eager and rushed, knowing it’ll lead to way more. Your tongues met, and Harry grabbed the back of your thigh, squeezing the flesh, making you hiss out. 

“So we were actually in the position,” you started your storytelling. “We kissed for a while,” Harry pecked your lips again, making you chuckle. “It felt nice, like I felt it through my dreams.” 

“Maybe that’s because I was actually kissing you,” he pitched in. 

“Maybe. And I really liked it.”

“Tell me more,” he hands roamed against your arm that was resting on his waist, and you could already feel the chills from his touch rise on your skin. 

“Your hand sneaked down to my panties, and you teased me a bit, not putting your hand inside of them right away.” 

“Like this?” As you said so, his hand trailed down your torso, slightly pulling your (his) shirt up to reveal a bit of your stomach as he raked his finger down your skin and to the hem of your shorts, dragging his nail along the hem. 

“Yeah, like that,” you confirmed as butterflies settled into your stomach. “Then you took my pants off, and you touched me very slowly.” 

“Can I take this off?” He asked, and you breathed out a ‘yes’ before he pushed the shorts down and you kicked them off your legs. You were wearing red lace panties, just like the top you were wearing, and he admired them for a quick second before taking them off. 

“Can I touch you?” You asked suddenly as you were half bare in front of him. 

“Is that part of your dream?” 

You shook your head, “no, but I really want to touch you, if you’d let me?” 

“Please do. I want you to touch me,” he gave you his consent, and you placed the palm of your hand on top of his clothed crotch, feeling him out as his hands roamed your thighs, Harry softly moaning from your touch. 

“Take this off, yeah?” You referred to his boxers, and he briskly took them off, kicking them on the floor. You looked down at him, impressed by his size, but did do well with your wet core as he still hadn’t touched you yet. “Next, you rubbed my clit for a while as you kissed me.” 

His fingers finally met your clit, and he rubbed as the wetness from your arousal had lubricated his fingers. He lifted your shirt up, and you slightly sat up for a moment to take off the material, finally fully bare for him, and the sight in front of him was to die for. 

“God, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he said, fingers still rubbing you and his mouth immediately going on your breasts, kissing the skin and sucking on your nipples. You moaned out at both of the feelings of his hands and mouth on you. 

Suddenly you felt his finger dip into your wet hole, plunging them in and out of you as he curled his fingers up, hitting that soft spot of your upper walls. 

“Oh my, fuck,” you moaned out as Harry continued to kiss your tits. 

“You like that?” 

“Mhm. So good,” you felt as if you were about to come on his finger, but you held back, edging yourself and wanting the feeling to last longer. 

You looked down at his cock as it stood straight up and looked quite painful, but Harry didn’t show it; only focusing on your pleasure and getting you off. But you cared, so you licked your hand, and grabbed his cock, pumping it slowly. Harry hadn’t expected you to do that as he groaned, throwing his head back, exposing his neck, so you leaned forward, kissing and sucking on the skin of his collarbone; not wanting to go too high up because he does have a daughter.

“Like that, darling,” he moaned out while you were pumping your hand around the tip, learning that was probably his most sensitive spot. 

The thrusting of his fingers hadn’t stopped as well, alternating between fingering you and rubbing your clit as you started to grind against his hand. 

“Do you wanna fuck me?” You asked straightforwardly, slowing down your movements as did he. “It was part of my dream,” you added. 

“Y’know, you can just ask me to fuck you. Don’t have to say it was in your dream,” he smirked. 

“True, but it really was in my dream. That’s why I was practically humping your leg,” you chuckled. “It’s okay if it’s too soon, I’m close anyways.” 

“Yeah? Let me fuck with you then. Been wanting to feel you,” he smiled before turning around to grab a condom. He turned back around at you, his smile no longer there. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“I don’t have a condom.”

“Oh,” you said, trying to think if you had one in your purse. 

“I haven’t had sex in about two years, so I don’t have any.” 

“Yeah, I don’t think I have one either.” Neither of you said anything, trying to see how to resolve this situation. Harry could possibly go to the store quickly and get one, but you had a better idea. “We can go without one? I mean I’m clean. I have an IUD. I haven’t had sex in about a year, and I recently got tested and I’m clean,” you stated, and Harry nodded. 

“Okay. I got tested about a month or two ago, and I’m clean as well,” he told you, not giving you a straight answer. 

“So, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

With that, he crashed his lips onto yours, gladly taking in the softness of them. You moaned against his lips as he grabbed your ass, pulling your body closer to his while squeezing. His hand made his way back to your clit, rubbing it relentlessly, causing you to whimper from the sensitivity, and you physically pulled his hand out from between your legs and looked him in the eye.

“Fuck me already,” you demanded. 

“Alright, alright. So bossy,” he teased, and you rolled your eyes. 

Your chests were pressed together as there was no change in position, just the two of you on your sides, facing each other. Harry reached between you, grabbing a hold of his cock before running the tip up and down your slit, collecting your wetness to coat it. You slightly bucked your hips, urging him to put himself inside of you already, and he chuckled at your eagerness, but obliged as he slowly pushed into you. 

The position was definitely different than what you were used to, but he was so deep into you that you felt him everywhere. You both groaned out, sighing in relief that you two finally made it this far. Harry started to thrust into you, grabbing your leg, placing it high on his hip, practically on the side of his stomach as he fucked you. 

“Holy fuck, yes. That feels so good,” you screamed out as you placed your hand on the side of his face. 

“So fuckin’ tight for me, yeah? Love the way I’m fuckin’ you?” He asked before taking in your lips with his quickly, and pulling away so you could answer him. 

“Mhm. So big. Just like that,” you said, feeling him every time he hit that lovely spot inside of you, making you moan loudly. 

“M’not gonna last,” he said, chest heaving deeply as continued thrusting. There was so much foreplay that happened before the fucking that he could’ve came with your gentle touch of your hand wrapped around his cock, and also because he hasn’t gotten a single bit of action in two years. 

“Me neither,” you agreed, bouncing the way you can as you met his thrusts. Harry’s tongue met one of your nipples as you continued your movements, trying to get both of you on edge of an orgasm. 

“Tell me what you need. Let me get you there,” he said, wanting to help you out. 

“Play with my clit,” you breathed out, and his hand immediately went in between you to rub your sensitive button. Once you felt his fingers on you, it didn’t take you long to reach your peak. “Oh... shit, H,” you let out, voice shaky as your orgasm surged through you, whimpering his name out into the air, not ashamed with how loud you were being, 

Harry took place of you, pounding into you as you rode your high. “There you go. That’s it, darling. Look so pretty cummin’ for me.” With sloppy thrusts, his orgasm rushed through him, finally releasing inside of you as groans came out and he smashed his face on the pillow. Moans of your name was practically all he knew as they came out muffled from the pillow. 

You pulled him into your chest to calm down from his high, and the hot and deep breaths against your skin made you warm up as you scratch his curly hair lightly. 

After a moment of being in each other’s arms, you felt his lips press against your collarbones, sucking the skin lightly. His head moved up to your neck, only kissing it as he knows not to leave love bites there because of work. 

He pulled his head back, laying his head next to you against the pillow as he lazily smiled, looking so fucked out as do you. You moved to cuddle into his side as he gladly took you into his arms. 

“That was amazing,” you said. 

“Really, really good,” he agreed. “Did I do your dream justice?” 

You giggled, completely forgetting that you started out telling him about your dream.

“Way better actually.” 

“Can’t believe you’re my girlfriend now,” an overwhelming feeling hits him as his face is in disbelief. 

“I can’t either. Do you think Bella would be happy?” You worriedly asked, hoping the little six year old, that you’ve grown to adore, would love to have you around often. 

“Please. She would be ecstatic. She loves you so much already. But how about we don’t tell her yet? Just have you around, so she could get used to you, and then we’ll tell her?” He suggested. 

“That’s actually a really great idea. I wanna make sure she likes me fully enough to tell her,” you said, and Harry nods his head, chuckling as you’re still not convinced Bella loves you already. 

“Can you believe after five years, we’re in this position?” 

You smiled fondly at the fact; you really couldn’t believe it nor would have guessed you would end up like this with Harry. But you knew all this time that he was a genuine person, and if he truly hated you from the beginning he wouldn’t have talked to you at all throughout the years. 

“It’s crazy, but I’m so happy,” you smiled at him, eyes gleaming with happiness as you placed your hand on his stubbled cheek.

“Me too. Does that mean you’re gonna stop stealing my mail?” He joked, making you laugh loudly; the voice echoing the room. He smiled at you as he watched you laugh, realizing that might be his one favorite sounds right next to you moaning his name. 

“Nah, I’m still gonna take your mail. But think I stole something else.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Well, I did steal your heart, right?” Harry blushed, a crimson red settling on his cheeks, and you gently pinched his cheek as you did the night prior. And he was right, he loved when you did that. 

“Who knew you would be cheesy,” he teased, and you playfully slapped his chest. “But yeah, you completely stole my heart.” You smiled, cuddling more into his che

As you two laid on his bed in each other’s arms, there was a comfortable feeling that you two felt, knowing that this has possibly got to be the most safe you both have ever felt. 

And as your chests pounded in sync, you thought that he had stolen your heart too, and you wouldn’t mind if he kept it. 

hope you loved it as much as i loved writing it! 

LETS CHAT IN MY INBOX ABOUT THIS! i’d love to hear your thoughts and feedback! <3

i will be accepting blurbs for them because i loved writing about them! so hit up my inbox on what you’d like to read :)

[lxngbottom]

Mistakes That Last Forever. | N.L.

in which neville stumbles across... an “old friend”.

warnings: mentions of cheating, angst, pregnancy, slight trauma mentions (lmk if i missed any!)

i got inspired for this by an outsider imagine that i read like a really longgggg time ago... so enjoy this ig (AND YES THERE WILL BE A PART 2 TO THIS)

(PART 2)

—

neville’s whole life had been filled with regrets. they seeped into his skin, torturing his clouded mind on day to day basis. the trauma from the second war had left a mark on him, and even though he was now in the infamous herbology professor at hogwarts, he still didn’t feel as if he was living the life he had always wanted to. he didn’t feel successful, he didn’t feel... good about himself. and the main source of that?

you.

his biggest regret was losing you. hurting you. leaving you in such a needing time.

it had all started after the war. you two had been inseparable since 2nd year, as you were the one who had helped him down from the chandelier when he was tragically hung up by those pesky pixies. and ever since then, he was enamored with you. he was consumed by the mere thought of you. and, your feelings didn’t differ too much.

so, you two became official in your 4th year. you two were each other’s firsts for practically everything that could be a first. and, you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. you were so in love with him, it tore you from the inside out.

but unfortunately, the war arrived. and, it took a huge toll on your relationship. it affected each bit of what you guys had built together. after the war had ended, you guys tried so hard to make it work. but, neville... it seemed as if he just... gave up.

you would never forget the day you came home from work to your shared apartment, and heard strange noises coming from your bedroom. you went up, deep down, already knowing what the noises were. and of course, when you opened the door, your worst nightmare had became a reality. and even worse?

you were pregnant.

neville knew this too, but, he felt as if he had spent so long being “stuck” in a relationship with you, he never got the chance to meet new people. and because of that, for the sake of your child, you left. because, he had left you first, and he had done something unforgivable. something that would leave you scarred, and something that would take hold of you for years.

but, now things were different for you. you were more than content with where your life was at right now. you had an amazing job as the journalist for the daily prophet, and you were damn good at it too. it was a collective agreement that you were definitely a step up from rita skeeter.

neville couldn’t disagree more, though. not that he didn’t think you were good at your job, he always thought that you were an amazing writer. but, he had to force himself to cancel his personal subscription to the daily prophet, as the simple mention of your name on the front page, or sometimes, maybe even your picture, broke his heart to see. some from guilt, but mostly, from just missing you.

just five years later, here you were. walking through a muggle hardware store, looking at all of the houseplants that surrounded the small garden.

“mummy, look!”

you whipped your head around, and smiled when you saw your small son, chubby just like neville used to be when he was young. you had always tried to disregard the fact that he looked exactly like his father, but it was difficult to. you loved your son, with everything you had in your body, but, he was a constant reminder of all the pain that had been caused.

“very nice, nev!” you giggled, watching as your son played with a single pink flower bouquet. he grinned at you, and suddenly plucked the fresh flower off of it’s stem. you gasped, and wanted your hand at him, “neville longbottom! we don’t do that! do you want to get in trouble?!”

his face contorted into a guilty one as he made those ridiculously adorable puppy dog eyes at you, “i’m sorry, mum... i-i-i didn’t know. i was trying to pick it for you...”

you couldn’t help but to feel a little guilty as he sadly dropped the broken off flower on the floor, watching as it blew away from the huge fan that hung above the both of you.

“it’s okay, dear. but, try not to pick them from the actual stems, okay? just... look on the floor. you’ll see a bunch of free flowers everywhere.” you teased, sending him a small smile. he looked up at you, and those sad puppy dog eyes quickly sparkled with excitement as he ran away, looking around the garden for those small, long forgotten flowers.

you chuckled quietly to yourself as you watched your son, seeing how his eyes glowed from all of the plants.

yeah. he was definitely neville’s son.

you turned your body back around, attempting to continue your shopping. but, your body then collided with another, causing you to come to a complete halt.

“oh, merlin! i’m so—“ you were just about to spurt out multiple apologies, until, you looked at the figure.

there he was. tall, muscular, and a intent gaze fixated on his face as he stared at you.

“n—neville?”

he was so shocked. he couldn’t even let out a single mutter. you were right there. right in front of him. after not seeing you for so long, but thinking about you always, you were finally right here.

“y/n...” he breathed out finally, trying to not show how incredibly nervous he was.

this was the first time you two had seen each other since the day you packed all of your things, and left him standing alone at the door step that once belonged to the both of you. he could never seem to part with the apartment, the whole environment still leaving trails of you. so, of course, he still resided there during his off times.

“um—wow... shit—i’m sorry. you know... for bumping into you...” he laughed nervously, stepping away from you. you gave him a nervous chuckle as well, trying to hide the redness that was now blending within your skin.

“oh—it’s alright. i should’ve—you know... been watching where i was going...”

neville opened his mouth to respond, as he wanted to ask you so many things. but, he was interrupted by a small child running up to you, tears streaming down his face as he clutched onto your leg.

“mum...” he sniffled out, and you looked down with a concerned look on your face, “t-t-the lady yelled at me...i-i-i accidentally b-broke one of the f-f-flowers...”

neville knew those eyes. he knew that familiar stutter. he knew those tears. it was like practically looking into a mirror.

that was his son.

you looked over at neville nervously, seeing realization flashing in his green orbs. but, you bent down to neville jr, who was an absolute mess. he never took kindly to people getting onto him, especially if they were yelling.

“oh... it’s alright, nev. we have a whole garden at home that we can grow flowers in...” you reassured him, wiping his small tears. he nestled into your touch, “why don’t you go and pick out some seeds? any kind you like... i’ll get them for you.”

there was a shy smile on his face as you said that, and he looked over at the strange man that stood baffled beside you.

“okay...” he sniffled, wiping his nose, “but... who’s that?” he asked, pointing to neville.

you had never told your son about his father, and you had hoped that he never would. but, you knew the day would come. you just didn’t think that day would be today.

“an old friend, darling. now, do as i say and go find some flowers, alright?”

your son nodded, reluctantly leaving you with the tall man that he had no idea the identity of. you stood up fully awkwardly, and looked over at neville who’s face was now angry.

he watched as the boy ran off, “he doesn’t know who i am?” he asked through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowing at you.

you looked back at him, “nev—“

“no... how could you not tell him? that’s my son, y/n. you—you told me you were putting the baby in adoption... how could you lie to me? and him? why would you do that?”

you knew you owed the man an explanation, but all at the same time, he had brought this upon himself. and yeah, maybe it was fucked up that you had lied to him, but, you genuinely did believe at the time you were getting rid of the baby.

“neville... not here. please...”

“no, y/n. you owe me a goddamn explanation. i mean... this is my fucking child we’re talking about. look at him! he looks just like me!”

you looked over at the chubby boy, watching him closely as he skimmed through seeds, staring at the images on the front.

“don’t you think i know that, neville?” you whispered, “listen... we can talk about this. but, not here. and, not while he’s around...”

“no! i want to talk to him! i deserve it—goddamn it, y/n! how could you fucking do this to me?!”

“and how could you cheat on me?! after everything we went through together! you fucking left me in the dust!”

he could see the pain in your eyes. there was obviously still a lot of hurt, so much rage pent up from the whole scenario. of course you had never fully gotten over it. it was still something you thought about on a daily basis, as you had believed at one point that you would be married to neville by now.

“y/n...” neville started, stepping closer to you, “i—i never meant to hurt you...”

you stared into his eyes for a moment, trying to find some sort of other answer other than that stupid apology you had heard so many times before.

“it doesn’t matter, longbottom. i have to go. we can talk about this whole thing another time. goodbye.”

[nachohypno]

Nate and Dave - Ch. 15

Dave’s POV

I’m sure you already know how much a single person can change a whole lot of your way to see the world, or have your life take a 180° turn (Had to look this up, angles are weird.) just by standing in a corridor.

Now I was just happy to stare at my phone’s unlocked background. A pic I took of us while cuddling. I was kissing his cheek and staring at the camera, while he just laid below me, his face had a little smile and his eyes were closed.

He loved that pic. I loved it too, it was both cute and wholesome. Never been one to do those things, nor even Leslie managed to get me to change my Dallas’ Cowboys background, and we had a lot more pics together than Nate and I do.

It was a nice distraction. I would sometimes just unlock my phone to see that pic and feel a bit warm inside as I imagined spending more time with my soulmate. I loved him a lot, and I wouldn’t mind sticking around with him for a day, or two, or the rest of my life, just to make sure he has all he needs to be happy like I am when I’m near him.

We sat together at school, yeah. Nobody batted an eye. We hung out during our breaks, still no big catastrophe happened. After school, we usually have a date or spend some time together before heading to our respective houses (As much as I’d like, having daily sleepovers wouldn’t be wise).

According to… everyone in the world who knows that I’m hanging out with Nate (Which may be just 2 or 3 people that I’m aware of), the guy had a really positive impact on my behavior. He’s always encouraging me to help whenever I can and to be… nicer, in general.

I’ve already apologized to one of my favorite targets a few weeks ago, but decided to fully leave them alone. In my house, however, I’ve been trying to honor my soulmate’s wishes doing some house chores to help mom and pops around. I still don't think I'm ready to 'change my public image' that much. Kicking nerd's asses is fun... but mean and unnecessary.

Mowing the lawn, going grocery shopping, cleaning around whenever my parents seemed quite tired to do it, that kind of thing. My room wasn’t a messy place before, but now I could spend less time looking for my stuff!

And now… Nate was at his house. I left him there per his request, he told me we could hang out later today! But first, he had some homework to do.

I looked around and noticed the door was closed. I dropped my shirt and pants, felt the locket’s cold metal against my chest, and dropped on my bed.

I wasn’t intending to take a nap, just close my eyes and think of my soulmate was a nice enough plan for my evening.

As I closed my eyes, images of my first day with him invaded my happy place. Me getting his scent, slowly walking over to his locker, and noticing the guy I never paid attention to, the one that sat a few rows in front of me, and was usually in the middle of the way when I threw paper balls around.

Now that I thought of it, maybe I never noticed him because he always hid? He was hiding right now; it was obvious that he was using his locker as a cover. I stood there, though. Taking in the smell. Feeling myself realizing more and more of that nice thought I had never thought about after my pops told me about that weird phenomenon.

…I had found my soulmate. The love of my life… It wasn’t my girlfriend, but a guy from my class… I frowned both in the real world and in my fantasy.

In the fantasy world, I lifted and kissed him. He didn’t fight back, just returned the love I was giving him by returning my kiss. I didn’t care if anyone watched us. I loved this guy, and I still do now.

I love Nate Hall.

I rubbed my crotch in the real world, as I kept kissing him in my fantasy. That was more than enough. A single kiss, a single thought about my soulmate being happy and in love with me could make me so hard and horny…

“Dave?” A voice said. My soulmate’s? It sounded so different though… I kept kissing him. This was perfect. He was perfect. He was the love of my life, of course he was perfect! “Daaaaave?”

Was there someone invading my fantasy? Oh, wait…

I opened my eyes and saw a familiar face standing there, wide eyed. I had my hand on my hard crotch, rubbing it. This was definitely an uncomfortable position to be found at. I could normally hear when people are walking towards my room, but maybe I was so out of it this time that I didn’t hear him.

“Fuck, sorry— Didn’t wanna—” My cousin said. What the fuck was he doing here, anyway?! In my room! When the fuck did he arrive?!

“Shut the fuck up! And close the door!” I commanded, feeling anger building up on my chest, totally replacing the warm feeling from a few seconds ago.

Brad Walker. My cousin was my height, which was a bit funny given that he was a few years older than me. He was muscled too, but his shoulders seemed wider as his torso formed a sort of upside down triangle. He was a rugby player, maybe it had to do with that.

By looking at his face alone, he could pass as a brother because of the resemblance. He had the Walker’s smile, looking both chilled while also managing to look a bit menacing to keep everyone in their toes.

Doesn’t give him much use, given that he’s a Beta.

Brad closed the door behind him, and laid back on it. “Off to a rocky start, I guess. Let’s try that again… Hey, cuz!”

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. I could feel the anger diminishing. I thought of my soulmate, how would he react if he saw me like this. He would want me to be nice and polite to my cousin. I wanted that too, I wanted to be nice to him. I’m so hot-headed sometimes…

I smiled at Brad, and took a few steps forward to give him a bro hug. After that, I walked over to my bed and sat on the edge. “Hey man, wat’cha doin’ around here?”

“Uncle hasn’t told you? Pops and him thought about doing a little reunion, so we drove over and… here we are.” Brad left his hands in his pockets as he looked around. I noticed I was still almost naked, but didn’t give it much thought. I did put some shorts on, though. “Just the big guys, though. Mom was tired and decided to stay at home with the young ones, so it’s just pops, Logan and me today. The guys asked me to get you downstairs, so… shall we go?”

I pointed to my almost naked body. “Give me a few minutes, alright?”

-----

Dressed up in some shorts and a grey tank top, I walked downstairs with Brad following me closely.

Pops was there, with his brother and my other cousin. I walked over to Logan and gave him a brohug. I liked my cousins, they were like brothers.

“Hey man,” Logan greeted me after the hug. It was nice seeing him. Well, like, nice and not nice, because he was pretty annoying sometimes. So I hoped he didn’t get very annoying tonight. “Damn, you look buffed. Taking steroids already?”

I rolled my eyes. “Why do you ask? Need some to stop being so thin, cuz?”

“I swear I still don’t know how he's not broken after kicking that ball. Y’look like a stick, bruh” Brad backed me up. I liked that about Brad, he was pretty loyal.

Logan laughed. He’s not one of those chums who get mad at every tiny insult. He’s pretty easy going in that regard. Would need to learn from him, because I am one of those chums who get mad at every tiny insult. “Don’t pull my dick, assholes” He punched my shoulder, softly.

Even though Logan was a year older than me, he was an ass. And that’s coming from me.

Logan… He was alright, I guess. Not really very muscly like me or Brad, nor our parents for that matter. That’s because he liked soccer, ugh. Not even weightlifting, nah. Just soccer and cardio.

That got him looking well in a soccer uniform with long socks and knee pads, but… I really should reconsider his standing in my pack. Meh, might as well let him in just because he’s family, but I’ll most likely order him to start working out more to be a real wolf bro. (I’ll get into this later.)

“Uh… don’t wanna be rude or anythin’ but… how long are you guys staying? Thought about having a friend coming over and-”

“Ooooh, is it your girlfrieeend?” The soccer cuz said, moving his fingers towards my face. I slapped his hand off me, and he laughed. “Big meanie Daveee has a girlfrieeeend” He was like a little kid when it came to annoying others, and the worst part was that he nailed it.

“Oh, shut it, bro. You’re just jealous- Wait, that’s not what I was going to ask”

“Dad and uncle Adam thought about doing some beefs for tonight, soooo… family dinner, I guess? We don’t really hang out often, so I thought it would be nice. Besides, we all love beef” Brad answered, holding his arms behind his head and stretching for a bit.

“We’re about to leave, actually,” Uncle Thomas said, grabbing his car keys. “Gonna buy some meat and drinks for tonight. Y’guys wanna come? Hey cub, haven’t seen you in months...” 

I greeted my uncle with a firm handshake, before he gave me a little punch on the abs. “Strong as a rock. Not bad, kiddo.” He ruffled my hair, before turning his attention back to my pops.

I was a bit too worried to think about hitting the store. Nate was supposed to come after he finished his homework, so we could spend the night together. I was supposed to pick him up. Fuck, what am I gonna do?

I shook my head and remained silent. Brad followed suit with a “Yeeaaah… No, been in that car for an hour and I’d really like to move my legs.”

“Pussies,” Logan said in a snarky tone. I raised my eyebrow, but decided to take care of him later. “I’ll go, may find some hot chicks in this friggin’ town…” 

My uncle looked similar to my dad, just a few little differences. Dark blond hair, a bit longer. Their sizes were similar, but my dad was bigger. It was weird to think that my uncle was the one who activated the werewolf curse in a bar fight and not my dad.

If you kill someone, whether it was intentional or accidental, you can’t transform into neither your werewolf or full wolf forms without experiencing a lot of pain. Could be avoided by never turning into those forms but…

Transformation is mandatory during the full moon. This whole thing seemed really thought out to punish those who don’t follow the rules, right?

Brad grabbed my arm “Hey, since we’re staying behind apparently, wanna catch up?” He pointed back to the stairs, probably wanting to go to my room.

I nodded, nothing better to do. And it would give me some time to think about what excuse I could give Nate.

Again in my room, Brad closed the door behind me. “So… a friend? I mean, the locket already gave me an idea but I didn’t you were bringin’ her to your place already…”

“It’s nothing, really…” It was something, a lot. I loved wearing this locket, it reminded me of Nate. Thus meaning, it was pure bliss in a single necklace.

“So, what’s the locket for? Always thought you’d end up with that Leslie chick you talked so much about” Oh, I forgot. My cousins never met my ex.

I shook my head, but was kind of hesitant to talk about it. In the end, I eased myself to the idea as I thought more about Nate. “Got a soulmate now, cuz.” Was my answer. I was proud of myself! Not even a half of the average werewolf population gets to meet their soulmate once in their lives!

I was lucky, it was like, one in a whatever-number-of-people-there-are-in-Earth!

“Waitwaitwait, not gettin’ it. So, you and Leslie… or is it another girl?”

“It’s a guy, his name is Nate” I mumbled out quickly. I wasn’t embarrassed, but at the same time, I felt like a chunk of ice just fell through my stomach. 

Silence.

“So… you’re gay now?” Brad said, giving me a thumbs up. “It’s alright, I don’t mind gay people”

I honestly couldn’t get how he got that assumption. “What? What makes you think that?”

“You’re with a guy, like dating and loving him and you even have a locket… I mean, that’s pretty gay. But it’s cool, it’s not that weird. Lots o’ people take some time to discover their sexuality and stuff— Uh… Cuz?”

I stared at him. Not staring, actually. I was glaring at him.

Brad gulped. “I fucked up, didn’t I?” While he did sound afraid, his face displayed a mix of nervousness and worry. I always laughed at him when he asked if he fucked up, like it was a regular thing for him to do but still needed other’s approval about it.

I just glared at him, making sure he knew I wasn’t happy. I walked forward and held my gaze into his, trying out my favorite part of being an alpha.

As I focused on him, his expression slowly started to relax, then vanish, as his pupils dilated.

“On your knees” I commanded, making sure he got it as an order, not a ‘humble request’.

His blank face didn’t move an inch, as he dropped to his knees and looked forward. His eyes, besides the pupils being dilated, looked glazed over as his irises changed from hazel to pure yellow. The beta color!

“Who’s your alpha?” I mocked him, as he blankly stared ahead.

“You are, sir. David Walker is my alpha” Brad droned. I ruffled his hair. He was a good beta. 

“And who do you have to be respectful towards?”

“My alpha, sir. Being respectful towards their alphas is the sign of a good beta, sir” Brad answered, in a matter of fact voice.

…I should probably explain what the heck is going on.

I’m an alpha. I’ve mentioned quite a few times already, but I never mentioned anything about other ranks.

You have omegas, who are wolves without a pack. They’re usually weaker than alphas and betas. Then there are the betas, werewolves already in a pack.

Omegas can survive quite well on their own, it’s not a requirement to have a pack. But if you want to get stronger… Getting an alpha is the best you can do.

That’s one of the reasons Pops is so proud of me. He and mom conceived an alpha in their first try! Nate usually nerds out about me sounding like a “Jerry Stud” whatever the fuck that is.

So, since I’m an alpha, both my older cousins are ‘my pack’ to call it some way. And you just got to see one of my favorite alpha skills.

Much like a soulmate bond, being a beta for an alpha makes them completely loyal to the alpha, which means… I have some degree of control over them. Not as much control as my love has over me, but still… It’s fun!

“So, won’t you apologize for calling me a fag— Uh… gay?” I’m still getting used to not using that word. Everything for my Nate. Can’t be a bully anymore, right?

I didn’t have to ask twice. Brad seemed to struggle a bit against it, but after a few seconds he said “I apologize, sir. I didn’t intend disrespecting you like that…” It was a cold, empty apology. But it did the trick. I’m not a picky guy, he’s my cuz after all.

But that did make me wary. Should I tell Nate to not come after all, at least until these guys leave? Fuck, they were going to ruin my evening with my soulmate.

“Uh… what do you think about my soulmate being a guy?” I walked in front of him, back and forth. I was trying to think what would be the wisest decision here. A second opinion would be useful.

“I personally don’t care, sir. You can love whoever you want, especially if you met your second half.” My cousin answered.

“I mean, yeah. But what would Uncle Thomas and Logan say if they found out about it?” I should uh… ‘wake him up’ or whatever already. But I liked him this way. You can say I’m a dominant guy. Not saying I lust over my cuz, that would be incest, but ordering him around is fun.

“I don’t really know. He’s your soulmate, they shouldn’t say anything. Logan is a fellow beta though, it wouldn’t be wise to fear anything from him. He’s as loyal to you as I am, my alpha.” Not going to lie, I loved hearing that.

Being in control of the situation, having everyone in my surroundings looking forward to being with me, or do as I say out of fear/respect/whatever… That’s why I loved the not-studying-part of school!

As a little reward for his opinion, I did what Nate would have done to me if I did particularly good: Scratch the back of his ear. Brad’s head got some emotion again, as he got closer to my hand and started panting with his tongue out.

“There, there. Good beta cuz” I mumbled, as I machinated a plan in my head. I had an idea, but it would be a bit… not ideal. I stopped scratching the good spot, and his expression blanked out again. I crouched in front of him, and looked straight into his eyes. “I want you to listen very clearly to me, understood? Listen and do as your alpha says…”

If Brad wasn’t in ‘beta mode’ before, then he definitely was now. His irises were still a bright yellow, but his pupils were even smaller now. “I’d do anything for my alpha, sir” placing a hand on his chest. I knew what that symbolized, I used that expression with Nate before. It freaked him out a little.

“Y’know, my soulmate is kinda a big deal for me so… I want you to treat him like a king, alright? No mean or cocky comments, just be nice to him and I’ll be nice to you, got it?” I had to search for the words to say this, it wasn’t really a piece of cake as I expected. “Think of him as an extension of your alpha. Make him feel good and do what he says, and you’ll be good to go.”

He frowned a bit, but his face quickly eased up. “As you command, my alpha. Your soulmate’s wellbeing will be my top priority, sir.”

Yeah, that’s more like it. “Get up now.” I said and just… walked away from him. I wasn’t interested in bossing him around anymore, not for now at least. But actually…

“Lift your shirt.” One last command wouldn’t hurt, and he obeyed without a question, like a good beta. I walked towards him and gave him a little punch on his abs. Didn’t even flinch, he was keeping up with me! Of course, I wanted the best for my pack! “And… Beta out.”

My cousin snapped out of whatever that was, his yellow irises returning to a nice hazel, as his pupils got back to normal. He grabbed his phone from his pocket and smiled. “Huh, 5 minutes. Wonder what you did there” The guy said, smiling at me.

He couldn’t get mad at me. I was his alpha! I mean, he could… but there wasn’t much he could do about it!

“Meh, you don’t really care, do you?” I said, trying to sound uninterested.

Brad shook his head. “Nah, I really don’t. I really trust ya, cuz. Best alpha around!” Couldn’t tell if he was following the ‘you don’t really care’ thing, or if he was being honest, but I didn’t really care.

“That’s a good beta” I mumbled, going closer to him again to scratch the back of his ear. God bless Nate and discovering that hidden pleasure for me. I loved when he did that to me, as I mentioned, and I loved doing it to other wolves, too!

“What are you two ladies doin’ up here- What the hell are you two doing?” Logan entered the room. My other older cousin, although younger than Brad. Rather than being as muscular as we were, he was more chilled. Yeah, he was in good shape, but he didn’t look like a big gym bro like us.

This was probably due to him preferring Soccer rather than football or rugby. Each to their own, but soccer isn’t that fun to begin with? I tried to not give it much thought and respect his hobbies.

“Brad, close the door and put on some music.” I ordered him, walking over to Logan and wrapping an arm around his small soccer player’s shoulders. “You just made my whole evening way easier, lil’ cuz”

I wondered if Nate would like this. I’d have to send him a message telling him that I wouldn’t be able to pick him up… That felt bad, but at least these guys wouldn’t bother him tonight!

-------

Nate’s POV

Dave invited me to his house, but asked me to walk over. He told me we could have a family dinner, which was alright. I liked his family. Mr. Walker was funny and Ms. Walker was really nice to us. We just had one family dinner and Dave spent most of his time zoned out.

And also, there was a full moon, which I didn’t get to see.

Was I glad they considered me ‘family’? It pushed me out of my freaking mind when Dave sent me that text.

I was walking slowly. Not like a snail and doing baby steps, but I felt like I should slow down as much as I could and… be fashionably late? It was a good walk, from my house to his. But I didn’t mind.

The town was quiet, not much stuff happening as I walked out of my house, and on the way to Dave’s neighborhood.

I thought about buying some ice cream or some nice dessert to make a good impression this time, but hey, I don’t really think they’ll care about it that much. They highly prefer meat, as far as I know.

Stopping in the middle of the way, I grabbed my phone and checked my maps app. “Should have arrived 10 minutes ago… fuck, that shortcut would have been really useful…” I mumbled to myself, changing my route and getting back on the way.

I was nervous at fuck, that maybe explained my silliness. And I also never walked to this part of town. It wasn’t… bad, but it was a bit more private than the usual neighborhoods, which fits Dave’s family pretty well due to them being werewolves, and stuff like that.

I still had some time to cancel and be like “Oh, hey. My… hamster pet is sick and I want to look after him?” I kind of sucked at making up excuses, that's why I never wanted to be late on homework due to laziness.

It was late now, just another block and...

I reached Dave’s house. It was weird arriving here on my own. Guess I really got used to my soulmate acting as my personal driver.  

The rooms inside were on, Dave’s car and his dad’s were outside the garage. The closer I got to the front door, the louder I would hear laughter coming from inside. Were they having  visits? It didn’t sound like Dave’s laugh. His laugh was… deep and dumb-sounding.

I stopped now. What if they had visits? What if Dave didn’t tell them I was coming? I was shaking a bit, before taking a deep breath. 

Taking my final steps to be in front of the main door, I knocked and waited for someone. Loud footsteps later, Adam Walker (Dave’s dad) opened the door.

“Hey bud. Didn’t know you were coming, but uh…” He motioned inside with his head. “Come in, the big guy is in his room with his cousins. We’re having a family dinner”

“Thanks, mr. Walker-” But he stopped me as I set a foot on the door. The older man leaned in and started whispering.

“Don’t be afraid. If you don’t want to be picked on tonight, try your best to not sweat as you did the last time. Dave will probably have you covered, though.” He patted my back, and moved aside to let me in. After that, he closed the door behind me. “Dinner will be ready in a bit so… feel free to go mingle with the guys upstairs.”

Uh… that wouldn’t be needed, apparently. Dave and a pair of guys were coming downstairs, and as soon as my puppy boy saw me, he rushed towards me to give me a big tight hug. “Missed you a lot, bruh! Didn’t know there was going to be more family tonight so… I’m really sorry for that. But I’m sure we’ll have a good time!”

The other two guys just stared at me, arms folded. One of them was big, and buffed. He had an absent smile, a bit creepy but also inviting. The other was smaller than him (And Dave, for that matter).

“Uh… since your uncle is here, these are…”

“Cousins, yuh” Dave finished the sentence. I made the connection on my own, but it was good to get some confirmation. “Big one’s Brad, small one’s Logan.”

“Hey, I’m not small!” Logan complained, trying to punch Dave’s arm. He didn't seem to do much damage though.

“Yeah, and I’m a bottom, heh” My werewolf jock replied, obviously mocking his cousin. I noticed Brad chuckling, and I couldn’t help but find that funny though. I always wondered if Dave would like to bottom at least once. I feel like he’d be alright if I asked him for it, due to me having full control and all that...

After the introduction was over, and both guys shook my hand, my focus shifted again to who I wanted to be with: Puppy boy was looking at me too.

“I can’t find the words to tell you how glad I am to see you here, though” Dave said, before pulling me in for a good make out session. In the middle of the living room. He was feeling happy or romantic, I assumed? I was surprised his cousins didn’t react at all, and just looked like they were watching some kind of movie.

“Wait, what the heck?” Oh geez.

A man blasted in the living room, and tried to separate me from Dave. The puppy boy reacted quickly though, and pushed him away. “What the fuck, old man?! This is my soulmate!”

Before the guy could go back at us, Dave’s dad popped in to save the day! “You guys just had to hold on for a bit until dinner was ready!” I felt like the ‘complaint’ was more directed towards who-I-thought-was Dave’s uncle, and Dave himself.

The puppy boy seemed a bit angry, he got in front of me and made sure I was out of view. It was a cute touch. I noticed the other two guys taking a step towards us too, like siding with Dave in this.

“Just, calm down, all of you, and start setting the table. Try to not take your eyes out while you do, alright?!” Mr. Walker surely knew how to take care of these situations. Was this a normal thing?

After a long stare, both guys nodded, and we all scrambled.

-----

I was sitting next to Dave and that other guy, Brad. Across me, Mr. Walker looked around with a calm expression, as he chewed on his meat piece. Thomas, Dave’s uncle, wasn’t exactly subtle when it came to me. His eyes were like daggers, fixated on me as I nervously stared at my plate.

It was amazing, and terrifying. The resemblance and also differences between both werewolves were quite noticeable. Mr. Walker was probably calm because he already knew about my thing with Dave. The cousins seemed to be quite attentive towards my every movement and sound. I felt like their eyes would automatically fixate on me at any little sound I would make, which was killing me inside. (Were they glowing yellow? Maybe it was my head playing tricks…)

Was I doing something wrong or offensive? I should excuse myself from the table.

“So…” Uncle Thomas started, before biting a big chunk of beef and gulping it down quickly. “Uh… soulmates, that’s neat. How did you two meet each other?”

‘First family dinner all over again…’ I thought to myself, as I tried to find the words for my answer.

“School, I was just walkin’ around and smelled him. Knew he was the one so… tried my best, huhuh.” Dave saved my ass, although his story was different this time. We lied during the first dinner. I couldn’t remember the excuse anymore, and that’s what bothers me about lies.

They’re usually hard to remember. That’s also the reason I’m a bad liar, my memory is awful.

“Yeah, that’s how it usually happens. You just walk around and get the smell, all the soulmate stories start exactly like that, ain’t that right?” Dave’s uncle looked at his brother next to him, who gave him a really angry looking frown.

“Go fuck yourself, got’cha?” I understood that reaction, The man lost his soulmate, I guess the memories were still painful? I’m no psychologist to tell.

“Yeah, sorry, shouldn’t have mentioned that… So uh… back to you, kiddo.” Oh, fuck. Dinner was nice, the meat was delicious! But Dave’s uncle didn’t seem to be… really fond of me. I was glad to see (Not really, now I sound like a dick) that he was bothering Mr. Walker too, so it’s nice to see that the consensus was… Dave’s uncle was a loud mouth ass. “You don't seem to have big muscles, but that's pretty much a given when you're a human."

“I’m sorry…” I mumbled, looking up at him. I tried to sound nice and not afraid, like Mr. Walker suggested before but… it was hard. “Not really good at sports and stuff like that, I guess-”

“Can see that. At least you’re a valedictorian, right?” I shook my head. High grades weren't my top priority. I did well at school, but didn’t focus enough for high grades to be a given. “No? That’s too bad.”

“Tom…” His brother tried to calm him. I noticed Dave needed some calm too. The big guy was clenching his fist with a lot of strength, as he held his knife with the other hand. He didn’t seem eager to cut the meat though, so I decided to step in for him.

I grabbed his fist beneath the table, feeling as it relaxed the longer I touched him. At the end, he grabbed my hand too, and I noticed his expression relaxed as well.

“Dad, don’t be such a dick. The guy’s fine, cut it out.” One of Dave’s cousins, big guy, uh… Brad! He seemed to be standing up for me, for some reason. He angrily stared at Dave’s uncle, without an apparent reason.

Uh… I felt like I was missing a big chunk of information here.

The uncle just stared back at his son, a bit surprised by his reaction. But before he could answer, or even react at all, Dave’s dad spoke up. “Well, it’s been fun, a neat reminder of why we never have family reunions, heh.”

“Ow, c’mon. It’s just a big friendly talk between men and…” He looked at me, seemingly ready to strike another insult. I grabbed Dave’s hand tighter.

But Dave’s dad didn’t give him the chance. “Dinner’s over. You guys will be going upstairs.”

“Roger that” I mumbled, leaving my plate with still a good chunk of meat. I didn’t let go of Dave’s hand, but he followed right after me.

“But I wanted a bit more beef...” The other cousin said. Logan, if I remember correctly. He was small, rather than muscled and big. I related to him because of that, glad to see not all male werewolves are big muscular people.

“Take the plate” Brad whispered to him, before following us upstairs.

“Okay, what’s going on-” I started to say, but my boyfriend shushed me.

“I’ll tell you all about it upstairs, just follow me and don’t make loud noises. Remember that they can hear everything in here” Dave interrupted me, as we went to his room. ‘Great, now my werewolf seems to be part of a mafia’.

-----

Locking the door behind us and his cousins, Dave ordered his cousins to stand aside, and they obeyed right away. “I’ll put some music here and…” His phone started playing some loud rock, but not loud enough to make the place feel annoying. “There, we can talk now.”

“Whaaat’s going on? And just tell me already, it feels quite bad to be insulted for no reason.”

“You weren’t really being insulted, bruh. I was.” Dave explained, motioning for me to go closer before leading me to his bed. “Uncle has… a bit of a problem, like pops has. But while pops knows when to shut his mouth, my uncle doesn’t, huh.”

“I don’t really see the insulting part there but continue…” I pointed out, but Dave just chuckled. Which seemed to cause a chain reaction and the werewolves guarding the door in front of us chuckled too.

“Sorry, yeah. Uh, well… My uncle is just bitter because my dad got an alpha son on his first try, me of course” I could figure that out on my own. The ‘I’m an alpha’ part I mean, he says it all the time. “Brad and Logan here are my betas. They were born as omegas, yeah, but I got them in my pack by willing choice because betas are usually stronger than omegas.”

The cousins were on the other side of the room. The small one, Logan, was tasting his meal with delight, while Brad leaned in to… hear our chat? They looked directly at Dave as soon as he mentioned them, before each one of them saying a “Hey” “‘Sup?”

“Why are they so… attentive?” Nosy mode on. I wanted to get answers, mostly because my curiosity was triggered now. ‘Obedient’ would have fitted better than ‘attentive’ though.

“Asked them to take care of you for the night, because I wasn’t sure if It would look good for me to do it. Pops is usually really fond of my uncle, but I think he didn’t like seeing him insulting my soulmate to get to me, bruh” Dave then put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer. “I can put them back to normal if you want me to, but… they don’t really mind, so why bother?”

Uhm… I risk myself sounding like a dick right now, but I found the idea of the two cousins under Dave’s control quite arousing… I’m not going to say it to him, of course! I didn’t want him to feel bad or anything if he saw his soulmate interested in other guys…

“Where are they going to sleep, by the way? Or are they leaving after a bit?” It was after dinner already so… it wasn’t a bad thing to ask. Like, we had school tomorrow...

“Living room, sofa. One of them, at least. I’ve got a sleeping bag, because they both can’t fit on the sofa, so while the guest room is occupied by my uncle and… yeah, I’ll go get that old thing. Gimme a sec.”

Dave got up from the bed and left the room, leaving me sitting there alone as the two cousins stared at me.

“Hope the meat is still good…” I told Logan, trying to sound nice. I felt a bit bad, Dave made them look after me, and that made them ‘defend’ me against their father. Yeah, I definitely feel bad now. “Sorry for crashing into the dinner.”

“You kiddin’? You seem like a cool guy, dad was just being an ass. It’s okay though, I think he likes you” Brad answered, and I feel like he’s the one “kiddin’” here. “He’s just… We don’t like family dinners, we do them out of courtesy. Nothing personal, dad can be naturally obnoxious sometimes”

I wanted to say sorry again or something like that, but that’s when Dave bursted in with the sleeping bag. “Y’guys play rock paper scissors to decide who’ll sleep with the alpha… Like, beside me, don’t get weird ideas.”

I chuckled, as Dave threw the sleeping bag next to the cousins, and started taking off his shirt as he walked towards me. “You’re sleeping over, right? It’s still early, but I can make up for the bad time by cuddling, if you’d like.”

To be honest, it felt like a good idea to distract me from that… failed family dinner night. Never again I’ll ‘crash’ into a Walker dinner (Even though Dave knew I was coming over). Too many surprises for a lifetime, thank you.

I laid down, rolled over to leave him room. We wouldn’t be sleeping yet, I hoped. The big guy laid down beside me and quickly pulled me in.

“Fuck…” 

“Yeah!” We turned towards the other guys and noticed Brad had won the rock paper scissors game. Logan just seemed defeated, he grabbed his empty plate and looked over at us.

“Well, g’night bros. Gonna be in the living room, I guess.”

“Buh-bye” Dave said, before turning around again and holding me in his arms. “Sorry again for all that before, bruh. Let's get some sleep, a’ight?”

Honestly, I think I didn't feel as offended as I should have. Best to just let things slide off, I guess. I decided to just nod, and doze off while hearing Brad setting up his sleeping bag. 

I didn’t pay him much mind, though. My puppy boy's hug felt nice enough to help me relax quite quickly...

--------------------

Author’s note:

Took me long enough. But chapter 16 went up already, so gotta keep up with the content.

Chapter 16 is available in my Patreon, but it will go up as soon as I publish Chapter 17 there. Shouldn’t be long, I feel very inspired lately! (Hopefully it won’t take as long as this one did 😅).

Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it <3.

[haikyuuhoo]

Habits

Pairing: Akaashi x Reader

Summary: In which Akaashi has a couple of habits you find extremely endearing.

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: Just extremely rushed writing so this might not be great.

A/N: Have a lil fluffy Akaashi fic I wrote instead of doing my reading for class today :) My excuse is that this was supposed to be a drabble but I got carried away.

Akaashi had two habits you picked up on very early—before the two of you even really knew each other.

The first was that he had this cute little way he played with his fingers when he got anxious. You'd seen him do it in a number of situations: when he was waiting in line at the campus café deciding what to order, when he stood in the kitchen at the few parties you'd spotted him at, and right before he was about to give a presentation. Another thing you noticed, though, was that it was shockingly easy for him to switch it off as if nothing was bothering him. When he approached the counter, he told the barista his order as if it was the same thing he got every time. When his friends approached him at the party, he would give them a gentle smile and allow them to push a drink into his hand. When he stood in front of the class he immediately stood straight and set his shoulders back, exuding a confidence that you could only dream of having while he gave his analysis of whatever book you'd all just read for your literature class.

Akaashi Keiji was never one to express his emotions openly, always coming off as stoic or like he couldn't be bothered to really tell people what he was thinking. But you knew better.

When you leaned your chin on your palm, watching Akaashi give his presentation at the front of the lecture hall, you could tell there was more going on in that pretty head of his. Honestly, you weren't even paying attention to what he was saying. You were studying him, trying to see if there was any millisecond where he let something other than strict professionalism shine through. But you didn't see anything, and it made you frown a bit as he came to the conclusion of his presentation.

When he finished, he thanked the class and let a small smile settle on his lips. It made warmth bloom in your chest, and you couldn't help but smile in return.

Not like he noticed. You were pretty sure he didn't even know who you were.

That was your first year of college, and you honestly didn't expect to be in many—if any—more classes with Akaashi. It was just a gen ed class, after all.

In your third year, however, you were in another class with him. You’d noticed him on the first day. You remembered from your first year that he was always early to class, so it wasn’t much of a surprise when your gaze immediately found him sitting in the middle of the rows of seats as you walked in. You instantly felt your heart rate pick up, and you honestly found it to be a bit embarrassing. You made your way to a seat a few rows behind Akaashi and settled in. Did you still have a stupid crush on this guy who you’d barely spoken a word to two years later?

Yeah, you did. How could you be anything other than enamoured with Akaashi Keiji?

The class, sadly, was a lecture with over one hundred students, so aside from looking at the back of his head, you didn’t really see much of him. It made your heart sink.

The second habit Akaashi had was one you had picked up on your first year as well, but you didn’t really see it in full swing until you noticed him frequenting the library even more than you usually did.

Akaashi Keiji was an overthinker.

Sitting behind him, you could always see the bright red A’s on his papers he got back. So why did he always look so stressed whenever you saw him in the library?

On numerous occasions you’d caught him staring at his laptop screen for probably much longer than was necessary to read over whatever was in front of him. You felt a bit bad for staring, but he made you curious. When you looked a little more closely, you noticed that behind his glasses his gaze was unfocused, meaning his mind was definitely somewhere far off from the words on the screen in front of him.

You found it kind of cute, the look he would get on his face.

But you’d still never spoken to him, so there was no way you were going to tell him that.

That was, until one day in the library when you did speak to him.

You had been sitting a few tables away from Akaashi—this time you weren’t stalking him—not that you had been before!—you were here first this time, you swear! You hadn’t even noticed him!

Well, okay, that last part wasn’t true. You had arrived before Akaashi that day, fully intent on cramming for midterms, and you only noticed him when you got up to go refill your water bottle. You almost tripped over your own feet when you saw him. And maybe you did accidentally shoulder check a bookshelf.

But we don’t talk about that.

You noticed he was working on the paper for your class as you walked by, you could tell from the fact that his copy of the book you all had been assigned sat open in front of him. It had countless flags sticking out of it and was filled with highlights and scribbles in the margins. You kind of admired his dedication.

A few hours later you’d gotten yourself back in your own groove of cramming. Your headphones played music loudly into your ears in an attempt to minimize any distractions, and your gaze was fixed on your laptop. You were so in the zone that you didn’t notice someone approaching you. You didn’t even notice him say your name. It wasn’t until you felt a hand on your shoulder that made you jump that you pulled yourself away from your work.

You pulled your headphones off just in time to hear the person beside you mumble an apology, and before your gaze raised enough to look at his face you knew who it was.

You could tell by the way he fiddled with his fingers.

“Sorry for scaring you,” Akaashi said, looking away as an embarrassed flush rose on the back of his neck.

You shook your head quickly. “No, it’s okay! My music was just really loud. I didn’t hear you,” you explained with an awkward laugh, looking up at him and setting your headphones on the table. “D-Did you need something?”

You could feel your heart pounding. You’d never spoken to him before and now he was approaching you?

“Yeah, uh, you’re in my classic lit class,” he said, and your breath caught in your throat. You didn’t think he even knew you existed.

“Yeah, I am,” you breathed, and you could feel your cheeks tingle with heat.

He cleared his throat and looked down at you. He was still playing with his fingers, which surprised you. Usually he stopped as soon as he started doing whatever was making him nervous. Why were you any different?

“I was wondering if you’d be willing to read over my paper. I’ve been working on it for hours and I think it’s making me hate it. You can say no, I know you’re probably busy with your own stuff. I just thought a fresh pair of eyes might help me.”

Your eyes widened. Not only was he in front of you looking uncharacteristically more nervous than you’d ever seen him, but now he was asking for your help?

“Sure!” you blurted, and you hoped you didn’t come across as eager as you felt.

His shoulders relaxed at that, and he smiled. “Awesome, thank you. Let me grab my stuff really quick.”

You nodded, and as you watched him retreat to his table you tried to get yourself to calm down. He was back less than a minute later, and instead of just having his laptop he had gathered all of his things. It made the heat in your cheeks spread over the rest of your face as you realized he was moving to your table to continue working.

“I’m Y/N, by the way,” you said as he set his laptop in front of you.

“I know,” he said bluntly, settling into the seat across from you.

Your eyes widened. “Y-You do?”

He looked up at you and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. We had a class together a couple years ago. You gave really good presentations,” he observed.

You felt like you were going to pass out. Not only did Akaashi actually know your name, he remembered you.

“I see you around campus sometimes too,” he continued.

“O-Oh,” you breathed, pulling his laptop closer to you. “I guess it’s not weird that I know your name too, then?”

He gave you a smile that made a swarm of butterflies erupt in your stomach. “I guess not. But I can formally introduce myself if that’ll make you feel better. I’m Akaashi. Thank you for reading my paper.”

You nodded, fingers curling around the sides of his laptop. “Of course. I’ve been working for hours too, so this will be a good break.”

“I can read something of yours in return if you want,” he offered, but you shook your head immediately.

“No, it’s okay, you’ve probably got a bunch of assignments to work on,” you assured him with a smile before looking down to the screen to start reading his paper. He simply gave you a nod and pulled a textbook out of his bag, leaning his cheek against his hand as he began working on another assignment.

It only took you a few pages to realize why Akaashi consistently aced his papers. He was an incredible writer.

You looked up, fully intent on telling him as much, but you stopped when your gaze settled on him and you noticed that familiar far away look in his eyes. You smiled, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking about.

Akaashi thought you were incredibly beautiful. That wasn’t a word he used often, usually reserved only for the way authors sometimes articulated things in a way that gave him goosebumps or for the way he could see the stars twinkle on clear nights.

But as soon as he’d laid his eyes on you, the word popped into his mind nearly every day. He’d watched you walk into class the first day of his first year, and he was smitten.

You looked so beautiful, even when you were doing something as simple as coming into the early morning class nursing a coffee every day. He decided he’d always come early so he could watch you walk in.

You looked beautiful when he saw you around campus, and the warmth that bloomed in his chest when he watched you laugh with your friends only solidified the thought.

You looked incredibly beautiful whenever he saw you at the parties he went to when Bokuto was finally able to drag him along. There was just something about watching you act so carefree with a smile that never seemed to leave your face all night that made him realize that you had become his definition of beautiful.

But he’d been too nervous to ever say anything to you, and when an entire year went by without the two of you having another class together, he felt a bit hopeless. He couldn’t really go up to you on campus, and the longer he waited the more awkward it was.

“Hey, you were in my literature class a year and a half ago,” wasn’t the best pickup line.

But when he saw you walk into classic lit at the beginning of this semester, he felt his heart soar. Maybe he would work up the nerve to talk to you this time.

A few minutes passed and Akaashi still hadn’t moved. A slight giggle left you that startled him out of whatever trance he was in, and he blushed when he looked at you.

“What? Did I write something stupid?” he asked meekly.

You shook your head, unable to keep the laugh from bubbling out of you. “No! Your paper is incredible, actually.”

He frowned. “Then why are you laughing?”

You gave him a hesitant smile. “You do this thing…” you trailed off, wondering if it would be weird to admit that you noticed the way he would sometimes get lost in his own head.

“What thing?” he questioned, the pink on his cheeks darkening.

You bit your lip. Now it was your turn to be shy. You dropped your gaze to your lap and played with a loose thread on your sleeve. “When you get really deep in thought you get this cute little look on your face,” you whispered, not even sure if he heard it.

But he had, and his eyes widened in embarrassment. “C-Cute?” he sputtered.

You nodded and cleared your throat. “Sorry, I know that’s probably weird,” you said softly.

“I think you’re cute too,” he breathed.

“You what?” you squeaked, head snapping back up so you could look at him.

He quickly looked away, but there was no hiding the way his cheeks were stained pink. “Is that too forward?” he asked softly, and he was playing with his fingers again.

Without thinking, you reached across the table and placed your hand on top of his. He jumped, looking back over at you and relaxing at the way you smiled at him.

“No, it’s not,” you assured him.

“Good,” he sighed, “because I actually think you’re beautiful.”

That was three years ago, and you couldn’t help but think back to it as you took in the scene in front of you.

You’d announced yourself as soon as you stepped into his house. You knew he had a big deadline today, so you wanted to surprise him with dinner. He sometimes forgot to eat when he worked late, and you wanted to make sure he was taking care of himself properly.

Plus, you’d take any excuse you could get to see your boyfriend.

“‘Kaashi, I brought food!” you called out as you closed the door. You slipped your shoes off by the door and hung your jacket up beside his on the coat rack. When you got no response, you set the bag of takeout on the kitchen table and made your way to his office.

“Keiji,” you hummed as you opened the door, peeking your head in. You still didn’t receive a response, but you saw him sitting at his desk. He wasn’t typing, however, nor was he scrolling through the pages on the screen in front of him.

You frowned. You already knew what was happening.

You walked further into the room. “Keiji,” you said again when you approached his side. He simply gave you a hum in acknowledgement. You rolled your eyes and turned his chair so he was facing you, but he kept his gaze straight ahead. A groan left you and you cupped his face in your hands, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his lips.

His eyes widened, and his gaze focused on you for a moment before his eyes fluttered shut and he parted his knees slightly so you could stand between them.

“You’re gonna give yourself burnout if you keep spacing out like that. I know how much you overthink stuff like this,” you scolded when you pulled away.

He sighed, hands settling on your hips. “I know, it’s just, I’ve got this deadline—”

“I know you do,” you interrupted, “that’s why I’m here. I had a feeling you’d be working too hard.” You gave him a fond smile and ran a hand gently through his hair. “So I brought you dinner.”

He perked up at the mention of food and smiled up at you. “You’re the best.”

“I know.” You grinned. “Now c’mon, let’s go eat so you can give that pretty little head of yours a rest,” you teased, ruffling his hair once more before reaching for his hand and pulling him out of his chair.

He hummed and laced your fingers together as he stood up. “Sounds good,” he murmured before bringing your hand up and placing a kiss to your knuckles. “You know me so well.”

You smiled. “I’ve been told I’m quite observant.”

He chuckled and gave your hand an affirmative squeeze. “Yeah, you sure are.”

[warnadudenexttime]

Ok so swap aus, love them whole lot!!

Like personality swaps are interesting but the thing that gives sanders sides an edge to swap aus is the idea of the sides swapping traits!

Obvs dark side light side swaps are neat as well but that’s a whole other discussion so

Because I am a hoe for my ships ( that being moceit, analogical, Platonic/brotherly creativitwins ) let’s start off with the concept of

Logan - anxiety

Virgil - logic

Patton - deception

Janus - morality

Remus - light creativity

Roman - dark creativity

Now it’s important to note that listen you rarely see this type of swap, I’ve never seen it atleast??

It’s mostly logicality prinxiety swaps and I get the appeal they’re opposites, so it causes conflict, Same with Logince and moxiety is also a common swap

However!! I do have some ideas :D it’s not a fully fleshed out idea but still a concept!!

Commonly enough when people switch traits for the sides they honestly dont keep a lot of what that side was. For example patton is a hyper, kind hearted sad dad when anxiety he just loses that and just acts like a droopy Virgil yk yk?

So we are gonna try and preserve those personalities without making them not fit for the trait entirely, meaning we may have to exaggerate some details about them

For example:

Canonly, Patton can sometimes be manipulative so we may have to heighten that up a bit, stuff like that

So back on topic

I think we should still keep C!thomas the same, atleast in the beginning of me writing this, we work around the idea of him staying the same as canon and from there we can change him as needed

—————

Logan as anxiety

- a bit more confident as hes listened too more than logic!logan sadly enough

- I’d say hes a lot more open about his more negative emotions, while he does try and to still not show them his anger does slip out a bit much whenever he feels like his points are gonna get thomas killed, lmao insert tempest tongue falsehood joke here

- he’d have the look more that of a tired professor

- wrinkled black button up, he’d have a purple tie. Instead of just like makeup eye shadow, he’d have actual eye bags

- probably kept C!thomas up through many college and school nights for studying

- is always anxious YouTube is gonna fail and regrets not putting up more effort for Thomas to go into his chemical engineering degree

- obvs cause I’m an analogical hoe I’ll sneak this in, Logan really does like virgil as virgil too values thomas’ education and just kinda sits there while Logan angrily rants every single possibility of what could go wrong today

- “and there’s a highly probable statistic that we could end up dying participating in this activity! 75%, virgil!!”

- I think when overwhelmed with his mind racing through probabilities he’d end up messing with or loosening his tie, cleaning his glasses a lot, or chewing on the end of his sleeves

- I think he accidentally blurts out a lot of words especially when he’s trying to hold in his anger, like “THATS A BAD IDEA” then slaps his hands over his mouth and just kinda says, “apologies... I need to stop my sudden outbursts as they’re becoming a frequent problem” and hey the outbursts getting even more worse and uncontrollable could lead to Logan doing an ol duck like in AA

—————

patton as deception

- I think I myself would love a dark side who comes in sickeningly sweet but has “darker” intentions I suppose?

- I think Janus wouldn’t like Patton in the start because he knows how easily manipulated C!thomas can be and to see a seemingly innocent dad try and push some morals on you, he’s cautious

- so Patton when he first appears doesn’t hide himself like Janus did behind a disguise... well sort of?

- he comes in dressed as his outfit in the series, maybe throughout the whole time he’s redirecting the conversation in his favor so no one reveals him, which we’ve seen canon Patton do a good job of being able to distract the sides from fighting so we can say he has that ability himself as well

- maybe like Janus he can stop people from saying words he doesn’t want thomas to know, or well thomas himself doesn’t wanna know

- but instead of the obvious slams hand over mouth it’s more like, Virgil speaks up saying “Thomas, It would probably help you to know that, Patton isn’t exactly-“ and maybe either he tries to finish his sentence and can’t speak, he just lets out air instead of a noise. Or forgets what he was talking about all together, another form of misdirection?

- patton’s whole thing is he came up here, dressed in his lil innocent dad outfit, being sweet as all hell “kiddo, I heard about a certain show you messed of Joan’s? Now we don’t joan hating us do we? We love Joan to death and we wouldn’t wanna hurt them! Can you imagine the look on their face?” Which Janus just says, “are you asking him to lie? You and I both have the understanding that Joan hates being lied to.”

- patton’s like “ehhh I know, but I think saving the relationship is more important! We don’t know if telling the truth could end up hurting Joan more then just a small fib?”

- so blah blah Patton is revealed

- his cardigan is back to his cat hoodie which is the black variety, instead maybe tied around his waist? He could have fingerless gloves that kinda look like cat

- paws? Like, he’s the unlucky black cat. He doesn’t have snake makeup but maybe he has sharps canines/fangs like cats do. And maybe we could keep the polo just make it yellow? Not sure though, but I do wanna have his lil logo go from just a blue heart when first shown to a yellow one with it like, being broken with a claw mark, like someone tore through it

- and why he chose to come in blue in the first place maybe he wanted to show thomas he was similar to Janus or maybe he has a crush on Janus? 👀👀 who’s to say

- but he’s revealed and just ahHhwhaj OH NO THE CAT PUNS, “apawogies Thomas for deceiving you a bit there, I was just trying to help make sure joan is feline good in the end! I do think you should really reconsider- meow I better get on my way then ol’ creativity needs some pasta. Keep my ideas in mind kiddo!” Then leaves lmao

- and that could be a solid set up for Thomas to be like- wait is there two creativities? Yk yk

- I do have some ideas for how svs and svs redux could go but yeah

- overall Janus, not really that known for having an animal trait as much as Patton and Roman but Janus could turn into a snake for svs redux-

I’m getting a head of myself lol

- point is, lmao- Patton’s animal trait is a cat

- he’s still kind? He can be a bit more pushy then canon Patton. But his first method is always just a gentle nudge and, “oh come on kiddo, I think your father would probably agree with me on this one”

- he’s not so much for thomas’ self  preservation as more so he pushes thomas to help his friends and because he wants to make sure thomas looks good enough for them so they’ll stay he ends up pushing for lying

I have some more ideas for the other sides as well but just wanted to see what some thoughts are before I keep on developing this :D

[willowbird]

3! 4! 7! (for the prompts yo) .... oh. and. kandreil. (duh)

Be GAY do CRIME, on a violently orange yacht. Oh, and they kiss for the FIRST TIME 😘 For Kandreil!

This is my first Intentional Kandreil y'all (as opposed to like.. the three Accidental Kandreil I've done so far), I hope I don't fuck it up for you XD

----

"Kevin I swear if you peak I am going to go leak those photos of you from last Halloween."

Kevin snorted at Neil's empty threat, though he dutifully kept his eyes closed, letting Andrew tug him out of the car and lead him down what felt like a wooden walkway. A deck, maybe. Or a pier, Kevin thought as he registered the smell and sound of water, the squawking of gulls above and around them.

"Even if you did, no one would believe they were real."

"I'd leak them right to the Trojans." The laughter in Neil's voice warmed something right in the center of Kevin's chest. It wasn't so long ago that Neil was so... terrifyingly cold. He'd joined them as a rebellion against his father, the bogeyman of the east coast and loyal lapdog to the Ravens - who were the direct rivals to Kevin's much smaller, much wilder group of Foxes. But whereas the Ravens were a legit syndicate that dealt with such things like human trafficking and heavy drugs, the Foxes were a group of barely-organized criminals that mostly just liked to say 'fuck you' to the laws they didn't agree with.

The problem? The laws the Foxes didn't agree with tended to be the ones that directly benefitted the Ravens' front businesses. After all, the Ravens controlled several of the biggest corporations in the country, and they were regularly stepping all over average folks, ruining their lives.

Every member of the Foxes had, in some way, been hurt by the Ravens. They were all determined to get back at them in whatever ways possible. Sometimes that meant framing their executives for fraud. Sometimes that meant blowing up a few buildings. They were a multi-talented group.

The Trojans were a similar group of not-quite-but-still-criminals based on the west coast, and they'd combined forces a few times by now. They also were pros at anything that had to do with the internet. If Neil wanted to make something go viral, the Trojans were definitely the place to go to.

"Jeremy would never help you soil my good name."

"Jeremy would think it is hilarious, do not fool yourself, Day." Andrew's tone was dry and deceptively uninterested, but Kevin knew him well enough by now to hear the amusement hidden between the carefully articulated syllables.

Kevin rolled his eyes while still keeping them dutifully closed. He didn't bother to hide his smile though, knowing the other two would see it and not really caring that they would. It was kind of strange to think of, honestly - that he was here, comfortable being led around with his eyes closed, smiling without care. It was because of these two men, and that... that warmed something inside him. Made it glow. Made it blossom. Made it live.

"Okay, alright. Kevin, you may open your eyes." Neil's grin was audible in his voice, and it was the first thing that Kevin saw when he opened his eyes.

The second thing he saw, though, was the absolutely impossible-to-ignore explosion of orange directly behind him.

"What the actual fuck?" Kevin half-spluttered, but he was grinning, too. He could feel it. One did not look at a violently orange yacht and not grin. He laughed. "This is my surprise? You saw an orange yacht in the marina and had to show... me..." His voice drifted off, distracted and confused as he saw the name of the boat in sharp white script along the side.

The Brightest Day

"Neil?" Kevin blinked, and something giddy bubbled up right below his throat, catching and fizzing. He had to swallow it down, and it took effort to do so, especially as he saw the warm, pleased look on Neil's face, then turned to see a similar expression on Andrew's.

To see a similar expression on Andrew's face.

Kevin stared, because Andrew... Andrew wasn't one to emote. Even when it was just two of them, or the three of them. Even after all they'd been through. Kevin and Neil had learned to find the truths hidden behind his sturdy walls, to accept what Andrew was willing to give them when and however that may be.

And here was Andrew, in the open, looking at him with an almost-smile on his face and an expression in those natures-gold eyes that was unmistakably fond.

Kevin had to take a breath, and he wasn't at all surprised to feel it shake. Rough, strong fingers slipped between his own and Kevin looked over to see Neil's expression had shifted to understanding. If anyone would ever know what Kevin was feeling, how he was feeling it, at any given time, it was Neil. They were so similar in the way they processed the world, and how they appreciated the small gifts they were granted in a life that had been too dark and too unforgiving for far too long.

Andrew's smile was one of those gifts. Arguably, it was the grandest of all.

"Come on you idiots," Andrew sighed as he turned to walk up the short ramp already positioned to bring them onto the boat.

Without further word, and without unlacing their fingers from each other, Kevin and Neil followed Andrew up the ramp and onto the yacht. Something struck Kevin as inexplicably right about that. After all - no matter where any one of them went, the other two were sure to follow, hand in hand.

And when they needed to face a challenge they would face it hand in hand in hand.

"I don't understand," Kevin finally said as Andrew lead them across the deck. "The Foxes don't have the resource to --"

"It did not come out of the Foxes' coffers," Andrew cut him off. He nodded to the menace still holding Kevin's hand. "It came out of Neil's."

Kevin turned to Neil, staring at him in open shock. "You bought the Foxes a boat?"

Neil snorted. "No. I bought you a boat." He paused, then looked from Kevin to Andrew and something passed between them. Some kind of understanding, or agreement. Andrew stepped away from where he'd been about to lead them to the interior of the boat, instead joining the two of them. Once he had, Neil looked back at Kevin and said, "I bought us a boat."

It took a moment. Kevin wasn't stupid, but he also had never expected... This thing, this connection or relationship or whatever that was between the three of them - Kevin wasn't sure it would ever be defined and he had come to terms with that months ago. If they went on forever just being Kevin and Andrew and Neil, just as they were right now with no changes - he would be okay with that. As long as he always had these two men in his life, everything else, he decided, would work itself out.

"Us," Kevin said slowly, testing the word, making sure it really meant what he thought it meant.

"Yes," Andrew said. "Us."

And that... that was really all that needed to be said, wasn't it? At least he thought so, up until Neil tugged on his hand, bringing him a bit closer to the both of them, and said, "Kevin, can I kiss you?"

"Yes!" The word burst out before Kevin really made the decision to answer or even necessarily registered the question. A soft huff came from Andrew that might have been a laugh, but Kevin wasn't able to fully catch it when Neil was already pulling him down.

Neil smiled into the kiss. He kissed him slowly, with a graze of teeth and a hum of adventure. He kissed him like it was just the beginning. He kissed him like he knew it was a first kissed but by far would not be the last. Confident, pleased, satisfied.

Blood was pounding in Kevin's ears so hard he could taste the tremble of his own heart on the tip of his tongue, and when the kiss broke he gasped, already leaning in for more. This time, Neil was not the only one smiling.

By the time the kiss ended, they were no longer holding hands. Instead, Kevin had an arm wrapped around Neil's shoulders, keeping him tugged as close as possible, the other hand resting on the side of his neck. Neil was similarly wrapped around his waist and he was still smiling. Kevin rested his forehead against Neil's, then turned to look at Andrew to find the other man was watching them with heat and affection burning in his eyes.

"Andrew," Kevin said, and his voice rasped. He didn't say the words, but only because he was too high on Neil's fire to put the syllables together right now.

Andrew answered anyway, because he knew Kevin well enough to know exactly what question he was trying to ask.

"Yes," he said. And if Neil's kiss was fire and satisfaction, Andrew's was the ocean and determination. Andrew kissed him like he was going to carve his intentions on his bones. He kissed like he was going to take Kevin apart one sigh and tough at a time and Kevin melted into it, more than happy to yield to the power of that kiss. Anyone who lives near the sea would tell you the same - you don't fight the waves, you let them carry you - and that was exactly what Kevin did.

Neil's hand was stroking up and down his spine. Andrew's was cupped around the back of his neck. When the kiss broke, that hand squeezed firmly, then pulled him just a bit further down so Andrew could place one more kiss on his forehead before he turned to Neil.

Something perfect and delicate and yet, at the same time, positively indestructible filled Kevin up to the brim as he watched the way Andrew cupped Neil's face, the way Neil leaning into that touch, the way fire and ocean wave met in a promise while still in the circle of Kevin's arms. And finally, finally, Kevin had a word for it - for the feeling he got when he was with these two beautiful, thrilling, amazing men.

And it was, quite simply, home.

[im-frickin-trying-okay]

Hey there, i have maybe an odd fic request for you, or just headcanon if it doesn't grab you that much.

Y/N is a witch/wiccan and offers too help shoto with his hand crusher curse, but after an intimate little ritual he thinks they/she accidentally cast a love spell on him or maybe the spell backfired. Turns out he just has a crush and is being a big dork about it.

Sorry this took so long! It might not be the most accurate, but hopefully it turned out okay. Also, I sorta mixed it with a coffee shop au but that's more as a tool than a plot point lol

Hand Crusher's Crush

I hope I did this justice :) I feel like I'm a bit better at descriptions than dialogue. Also, I did a bunch of research, but if anything's super inaccurate, please let me know!

A knock on your door caught your attention. You didn't tend to get visitors, as sometimes the world felt too 'peopley' for your taste. It's not like you weren't open to them, you just didn't have a lot of friends. Opening the door, you found yourself face-to-face with a striking young man. His hair fell slightly over his eyes, with red and white split down the middle.

"Um, hello," you said, not sure about this curious stranger. He cleared his throat quietly.

"Hello. I'm Shoto from UA," he said. He seemed quite serious, but it came across as a bit awkward. "Shoto Todoroki," he added. "I heard you have a special kind of healing quirk."

"Well, technically no, but I like to think I do," you reply simply. Your quirk is called Vibes. You can visualize, manipulate, and use certain energies. Once you got control of it, and did a little research on how to collect the intentions and energies, you changed your lifestyle. "Are you hurt or sick?"

"Well, no, it's not that I'm hurt. It's that I... I hurt people," he said, remorse bleeding into his voice. He glanced down at his hands, before looking back up at you. "I don't want to hurt people anymore."

For a split second, you wondered if there was some sort of killer at your doorstep, but instead of turning him away, you gave him the benefit of the doubt. "Hurt people, how?"

"Whenever I'm around, people hurt their hands," he said, completely serious, and a bit regretful. "It's like I'm the hand crusher or something." You blinked at him. Hand crusher? Well, at least he's not a serial killer. "I think I'm cursed, and I heard that maybe you could help with that."

"Ohh, a curse, huh? Well, I suppose I could try," you said, opening the door a bit wider.

He walked in, and was immediately hit with the scent of lemons. Looking around your living room, he noticed some things that he wasn't quite familiar with. He narrowly avoided the small black tourmaline towers on either side of the door, and felt his gaze land on the shadowy shelf on which there were three different jars of water. His eyes were drawn in all different directions by all the different things. Crystals on the shelves, tiny jars by the windows, and enough candles to set the house on fire.

"So," you said, gesturing around. "Uh, welcome, I guess. Come on over here." You gestured over to a small table with a few chairs around it. He sat down across from you, not seeming sure of what to do. "Let's start off easy. Who's hands have you been crushing?"

He sighed at the question. "A couple of my classmates', at least. I'm not sure if I've hurt anyone else." He took a bit to explain the situations, and how as far as he could tell, he was the only thing that tied the events together. It sounded a little bit like a coincidence, but then again, it was probably possible, right? And he would know better than you about what happened.

"Well, okay. I can probably help you," you said, still pondering over the stories he'd just told. "How good are you at cracking eggs?"

After an egg test, you found that he wasn't cursed per say, but there was definitely a lot of negativity surrounding him, and it was definitely weighing on him.

"Well... I'm not sure if it has to do with the crushing-of-hands, but there's some stuff I can help with," you said simply. He nodded, fully trusting.

You walked across the room and grabbed a few things. Selenite, rosemary... You counted off the things you needed in your head, before going back to your seat. You explained your plan to him. Cleanse and banish negative energy, and you'd be giving him a selenite crystal. It wasn't a problem, since you already had a lot.

"Will the crystal help stop me from hurting people?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"It's possible," you said simply. "If someone decided to punch a wall while you were in the room, their hand would be crushed, but it's not your fault."

"But wouldn't I have-?"

"Hey, hey, listen," you said gently, putting your hand over his. You could feel his doubt, but you wanted to reassure him. "It wouldn't be your fault. If it still feels that way, maybe try not to identify as The Hand-Crusher. That might be part of why these things occur so often." He frowned slightly, before nodding. He came to you for help, so it wouldn't be right of him to turn it down. "The crystal will basically just help keep your energy clear."

"My... Energy," he repeated, trying to remember if the first hand-crushing incident happened before or after Kaminari convinced him to try a Monster. "Is it bad?" he asked nervously.

"It's not bad, it's more of the things crowding around and onto it." After attempting to explain it, and getting a confirmation of his understanding, you began.

Rosemary smoke began to fill the room, but because of your quirk, it didn't look like smoke. Instead, a soft white light flowed through the space. Shoto watched in what seemed like awe as the room began to glow. Placing the rosemary bundle in a bowl, you continued on.

You clapped your hands, and golden sparks shimmered around them. Shooting your hands up, the sparks flew, before landing in a circle around you, like a dome of glitter. Shoto couldn't seem to pick where he wanted to look. The room seemed completely different now.

What would've normally been a smoky room and a bunch of stones turned into a beautiful light show, a light filled world with the two of you at its core. Something about the way his eyes sparkled made you feel a vague satisfaction. It made you glad to know that he wasn't bored or anything of that sort. He didn't seem to be a very smiley person, but he was clearly enjoying this.

Once all was said and done, and the lights began to fade, his eyes remained trained on you. "How was that?" You asked. "How're you feeling?"

He blinked out of his reverie. "Actually, much better," he said, seemingly surprised. "Thank you," he added.

"Happy to help," you replied, completely genuine.

"How could I repay you?" He asked, already reaching for whatever was in his pocket. It didn't take a genius to figure out he intended to use money, and really, you were financially comfortable. Your YouTube channel was decent, and considering that working at a coffee shop meant constantly being around coffee and tea, you didn't mind it. Besides, you didn't feel like you did as much as you probably did.

"Oh, no no," you said. "It's okay. You can repay me by trying to tune out negative people in your life," you said matter-of-factly. "It'll probably help delay any bad-vibes buildup." He hummed, nodding, but it wasn't hard to tell that he already had his mind on a specific someone.

"I know who I need to keep away from."

• • •

Over the next few weeks, Shoto was aware of the way that his mood had been lifted. He hadn't realized that he was feeling bad until he started feeling better. He was also vaguely aware that Midoriya hadn't broken his arms recently. It really worked! He felt glad that the curse was gone, as long as whatever else may have been wrong.

Then it began. He would occasionally think of you, think of what happened, and look back with a feeling of gratitude. When he held the selenite and felt his mood and thoughts balance out, he thought back to when you gave it to him. He couldn't help but think that you truly were magic.

After a while though, he noticed something changing. He'd look back on the same events, but instead of gratitude, he felt nothing but longing. He wanted to see the way the room lit up, he wanted to see your face, he wanted to hear your voice, he wanted you to hold his hand again... These new thoughts were more frequent, and you were always on his mind now! You were stuck in his head, and now he found himself missing this perfect stranger, always wishing to be in your presence. At first he couldn't identify these feelings, but then... Oh no.

You must've accidentally hit him with a love spell or something! He'd only seen you once, so that had to be the explanation, right? He'd have to go to you so you could fix it! Or was that the spell talking? Could it just be that he wanted to see you again? Maybe he just wanted to hear your explanations, to see the way you smiled if he said something that sounded like a joke but really wasn't, to see the way that your eyes lit up when you used your quirk, and oh, those eyes- No, bad Shoto, focus.

Things were complicated to say the least. It actually made him happy to think about you, and considering that the crystal didn't do anything to take away the feelings, he wasn't overly worried about the love spell's effects. However, over time, he realized how problematic it could be. Spacing out in the middle of an English lesson just to think of you was probably the most common reoccurrence. It wasn't like he didn't know the topic, but it was confusing to be asked a question and not even know what was being discussed.

He wasn't used to losing focus like this. Occasionally it would happen, but everyone's mind wanders. This felt different. You'd populate his mind, even narrate his thoughts, and he wasn't sure how to prevent it.

He had to put a stop to this. He tucked the selenite into his jacket pocket, and went to go get some tea. Yes, tea. Contrary to popular belief, he could still enjoy the stuff. Right now, he just wanted to pick some up before going to see you. Hopefully it would help get his thoughts in order, and calm him down. He walked into the shop and stared at the ceiling for a good thirty seconds before getting in line. He pondered if he should go talk to you directly about the love spell. Should he imply it? Did he want to fix it? It was hard to tell. He didn't dislike it, but the things that it caused weren't the best. He thought this over until he got to the front of the line.

"Hello, welcome to- Shoto?" came a familiar voice. His gaze snapped up to meet yours, and his heart jumped into his throat. The incessant fluttering in his stomach and chest made it hard to string words into a sentence. "Wow! Didn't expect to see you here," you said, pleasantly surprised.

"Hello," he blurted out, a mix of embarrassment and confusion swirling around in his head. He tried to come up with something more articulate, but was suddenly drawing a sudden blank. "Spell worked," he said, before immediately feeling like that was an understatement.

"Oh, well that's good," you said with a smile. You glanced up at the clock. "I'm off in like, 20 minutes if you wanna talk, but for now, how can I help you?" you asked. He blinked, before firing off the order he only remembered because he'd said several times before.

A bit later, he sat at his own table, a small one in the corner, and thought. He thought about how his mind was clouded with everything about you. He thought about how he finally got to see you after so long. He thought about how he'd only seen you once before. He thought about this love spell, and how he didn't exactly dislike it. He thought about how you might react when he told you. He thought about how it would be better to go into this slowly, and how- "Shoto!"

He popped his head up, before running over to grab his drink. He forced an awkward smile, which kinda looked like a grimace, before heading back to his seat, lost in thought once again. He didn't want to scare you off, of course, but did he even know you well enough to bring up this topic? He could say that he loved you right then and there, but he didn't even know your birthday! He barely noticed the time passing until you sat in the chair across from him.

"Hey," you said, smiling. "So, how've you been?" you asked. His mind went completely blank and he had no memory of what language it was that he spoke. His heart pounded in his ears. I can't do this, not yet- Idiot, that's what you're here for! Well, that and tea. Dammit- Say something! Once he wrangled his thoughts together, he tried his best to respond.

"I-I've been good. Well? Well. Grammar. Um, how about you?" he managed, the tips of his ears already bright red. He was embarrassed by the lack of his usual composure.

"I've been decent," you replied shrugging. "Thinking about you," you added. He choked on his drink, his face turning bright red.

"What?" he asked, trying not to seem flustered. This spell was getting troublesome.

"Y'know, just how you've been doing and stuff. So, you said that the stuff we did worked?" you asked. He nodded. "That's great!"

"Y-yeah," he said, frowning slightly. "Question. Er, is it possible for me to lo- No, is it possible to accidentally cast a love spell?" His heart was pounding.

"What? Not that I'm aware of, no. Why, did something happen?" you asked, slightly confused. Those things have to be intentional, don't they?

"Ah. Can they be a result of a spell backfiring?" Shoto asked, trying to think of what else could've caused it.

"I mean, I guess that would probably depend on the spell, but even then, I don't think so," you said, now a bit concerned. "Are you alright?"

"Me?" he asked incredulously. "Of course I'm alright," he said. If a spell didn't cause this, then what did? He tried to run through the possibilities. Should he tell?

"Hey, look at me," you said. He did as you said, meeting your eyes. "If you think something happened, you can tell me."

"Oh, no," he said, shaking his head. "I'm fine." The warm and fluttery feeling didn't give him time to think before he said his next words. "I just thought it might be a spell, since I'm falling in love as we speak."

About five seconds of complete silence followed. In those five seconds, a lot happened. Shoto could've sworn his heart stopped, but the blood rushing to his face proved otherwise. You seemed to be in a state of shock, not able to respond. Your heart thudded in a he's cute, yeah, but how did this even happen kind of way.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out.

"Are you for real?" you asked at the same time. Your head was spinning. What's happening right now?!

"What? I'm right in front of you," he said. When you laughed, he took a moment to reconsider. "Ah, right. Well, yes, I am, but I didn't mean to say it like that." The nervous buzzing in his head was one of the strongest emotions he'd felt in the past who-knows-how-long. "I thought it might be a spell or side-effect, since I don't know you all that well."

Holy shit, he's completely serious.

The situation would've been concerning if it weren't so funny. You found yourself laughing, and trying desperately not to in order to not hurt his feelings, but oh my gods, he really thought this was a spell?! He seemed bewildered, and that just made it funnier.

"I'm- I'm sorry," you said, gasping for air, "You thought I cast a love spell?"

"Unintentionally," he added, as if that made it better. "I don't think you would have done that without telling me first." His face was still red, but he seemed calmer.

"Well- You're- you're right about that part," you managed through the laughter. "I can confirm for you that I didn't cast a love spell," you said, just barely able to sound calm.

"I see," he said, not meeting your eyes. The second-hand embarrassment was a lot. He stayed quiet, not sure what to say.

"Shoto?" you called, once you managed to calm down.

"Hm?" came his wordless reply, his mind clearly somewhere else.

"That was adorable," you said, simply stating your thoughts out loud. He's so painfully genuine all the time that it's hard to not to think so.

"Wh-what?" he said, as light embers flew from his red hair. Or rather, the red part of his hair.

"I mean, it was!" you said, before suddenly backtracking. "Not in a weird way, it just is, y'know?"

After stumbling through awkward conversation for three minutes or so, Shoto asked a question. The question almost killed you.

"If I'm not under a love spell, then what is this?" he asked. You choked, really not understanding how you'd have to explain this.

"You... Is it possible that the, er, feelings developed naturally?" You asked, trying to phrase it as professionally as possible.

"Don't you have to know someone for a long time for that?" he asked in response.

"N-not necessarily," you said, trying to decipher if he was still being serious. "One interaction can be enough, and as of now, we've had two," you added. He seemed thoughtful for a moment.

"Alright, then I suppose that makes sense," he said, nodding. After a beat of silence, you laughed.

"Well. Uh. If your concern was too few interactions, we could always just talk more, if you want," you offered, head still swirling with the awkwardness of all this.

"I'd like that," he replied, the blush never leaving.

• • •

It had been five months now, and Shoto could now say for absolute sure that there was no love spell involved. The two of you were much closer, and he liked getting to call himself your boyfriend. He enjoyed getting to know you, and was surprised at how much better he knew himself. He was still a dork, and still a bit fast to jump to conclusions, but that's just who he is. However, you did help him change, and it was in the best way possible. You showed him how to change his definition of love into something healthy, and he couldn't be more grateful.

From the day you met, you lit up his life in more ways than one.

Could anyone blame him for loving you?

[joonie-beanie]

Wet Dreams

Pairing: Belphegor x Reader

Word Count: 3,564

Preview: Basically, the 4th night of "Good Night Devil", but if you ended up alone with Belphie instead. Seriously...his brothers are idiots to trust him. He's just as horny as the rest of them. Especially for you.

“Do you want me to fuck you? Do you like that I’m toying with you while you’re asleep?”

“Yes. A lot."

WARNING: This chapter focuses on Sonmophilia. If you are not comfortable with this, or the idea of con-noncon/dubcon, please do not read.

** Please note that this is a cross-posting **

This chapter was originally posted on 2/14/20 as a part of my “Devil Doms” series on AO3.

Belphegor finds himself staring at you as you sleep.

For the first time in 3 nights, you’re actually resting—curled up in the middle of your spacious bed, breathing softly. Thanks to Lucifer’s ongoing “sleep experiment”, tonight Belphie has been instructed to stay in your room with you.

Originally, he had been paired with Satan, but after Satan had teased the eldest brother with a remark on how “Belphie being around won’t stop me from doing what I want”, Lucifer had taken it upon himself to keep you protected while rooming with the Avatar of Wrath.

So now, on the final and fourth day, Belphegor finds himself alone with you.

Honestly, he’s a bit offended that Lucifer had paired just the two of you together. Does his older brother not think he’ll try anything? He likes you just as much as the others, he just…doesn’t show you as much affection as Beel, or Mammon (even though the second oldest will definitely deny that he does at all).

Sighing, Belphegor runs a hand through his messy hair, his eyes refocusing on your sleeping form once more. You really do look cute like that…

At that moment, you shift in your sleep—the covers around you sliding down your torso as you flip to your other side. Immediately, Belphegor’s gaze focuses in on your squished-together cleavage, and his cheeks redden. Why do you have to sleep in only a tank top and shorts? Shouldn’t you be a little more careful around him and his brothers?

After all, it’s not like they don’t have desires…

His eyes rake over your soft skin—settling on the curve of your neck, as he imagines how pretty you’d look covered in hickies. A dull ache settles in his gut, and while he knows he should stop, he continues to let his mind wander.

He imagines your breasts in his hands, and the quiet little sounds you’d make as he touched you—unable to help yourself. He’s sure your skin is soft, and he wants to caress every inch of it, until he knows of each mole, scar, or otherwise.

Shit, he thinks to himself, hand moving down to palm at his crotch. He’s hard thanks to his roaming imagination, but…as much as he wants to touch you, that would be wrong, right?

His thoughts return to last week, when he’d accidentally run into you at the junction of two hallways. He’d ended up on top of you—one of his hands firmly planted on your breast, and his knee pressed up against your pelvis. You’d both immediately flushed red once realizing the position you were in, and Belphegor had stumbled off you—stuttering apologies.

“It’s okay,” you’d told him, attempting to laugh it off. “No worries, Belphie. I know that you didn’t mean to touch me in that way, but…I’d trust you anyway.”

Your words had weighed heavy in his mind following that day. You’d reassured him that it’d be okay if he touched you, even though he hadn’t meant to in that moment. Did that mean you wanted him to touch you like that?

The Avatar of Sloth swallows harshly, his hand reaching down to grab the edge of your covers. Slowly, he peels them down your sleeping form—not too surprised that you don’t awake. Beel had informed him that during the time he and you had roomed together, he’d picked up on your sleeping habits—one being that once you got to sleep, it was very hard to wake you during the first few hours.

Belphegor hates that he gets aroused at the idea of touching you while you’re unaware. But…it would be so easy. To just slip your tank top down your shoulders…listening to you quietly moan as he sucks on your tits—his fingers finding their way beneath your shorts…

Before he can think twice, he finds himself lowering onto the bed beside you. Gently, he grips your shoulder and rolls you onto your back, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding when you don’t stir.

If he were a human, surely he’d be going to hell for this, but since he’s already here…

Reaching out, he cups your breast though your shirt—the flesh squishing beneath his fingertips. He feels your nipple harden—pressing up against the flat of his palm—and a quiet chuckle sneaks past his lips. Even in your sleep, your body can’t deny it’s desires, huh?

Gaining a little courage, the Avatar of Sloth slips the straps of your tank top off of your shoulders—additional inches of skin becoming exposed to his hungry eyes. And despite wanting to rip your shirt off of you—Belphie works slowly—peeling the fabric down inch by inch until finally, your breasts are fully accessible.

Immediately, he leans over—flattening his tongue against one of your nipples and giving an experimental lick. At the sensation, your breathing hitches slightly, but you don’t awaken. He grins, hand reaching out to claim the other mound as his mouth continues working at the present one.

Despite being asleep, it’s clear that your body has sensed a change. Quiet whines begin to build in your throat—eyebrows furrowing on your forehead. However, the sounds only urge Belphie to proceed.

His tongue continues swirling around your taut nipple—teeth gently nipping at the bud on occasion, and the whines that leave you in response has the Avatar of Sloth’s cock straining against his underwear. Without ceasing, his eyes drag down your torso, pausing at the crotch of your shorts. He can see your thighs clenching ever so slightly.

I wonder, he thinks to himself, his hand releasing your breast. His fingers sneak beneath the hem of your shorts—oh-so-very-gently parting your folds—and sure enough, immediately your arousal coats his skin.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he mumbles to himself, his hot breath fanning against you. “Do you like that I’m toying with you while you’re asleep?”

Belphie sucks your tit into his mouth, his fingers rubbing at your clit, and you mewl beneath him. You stir slightly, your limbs stretching against the sheets, but Belphegor is too distracted to care. If you wake up, then you wake up. However, until then, he has no intention of stopping.

His hard-on presses against your side as he teases a finger in between your walls. Your juices coat the digit, but it’s not enough to draw you out of your slumber. So, he pushes in a second—realizing that the current situation is becoming something akin to a game to him. At this point, he’s curious to find exactly how far he can go before you finally wake up.

“Mmm,” you moan, your body shifting. Your hips roll against his hands—clearly your subconscious knows something is going on—and Belphegor laughs quietly. He curls his fingers against your walls—his lips nibbling at the skin on your chest.

“You look pretty all marked up,” he whispers, admiring the fresh red marks he’s created. He knows by morning they’ll be a delicious shade of purple, and the thought causes him to ache. Frowning, he reaches down and strokes himself over his pants. Oh, how he wishes he could just fuck you awake.

…wait.

Tongue darting out to wet his lips, Belphegor scoots down the mattress and in between your thighs. Arousal has pooled between your legs—wetting the fabric of your shorts—and Belphie peels the cloth to the side. Your cute, glistening folds stare back at him, and he reaches his hands forward, spreading his fingers in a V shape so he can see you in all of your glory.

“You haven’t let any of my brothers see you like this, right?” he questions, his tone possessive. He shoves his sweats down his thighs, his hands grabbing your lower half. He drags you down to meet him, his cock rubbing between your soft folds—his pre-cum smearing with your own arousal.

The Avatar of Sloth toys with you for a few seconds—basking in the way your fingers curl into the sheets when the head of his cock flicks against your clit—but finds his self-control wearing thin. He wants to be inside you.

Reaching down—he grabs his length with one hand, and lifts your hips off the bed with the other (really, sometimes it’s easy to forget he’s a demon, and has strength you can’t fathom). Slowly, Belphegor aligns himself with your entrance, his eyes glued on the space between your bodies as he slowly pushes himself inside of you.

In fact, he is so preoccupied with drooling over the way your pussy feels around him, that he fails to notice your fluttering eyelashes—your groggy gaze shifting around as you try to figure out what’s going on.

Until just a moment ago, you’d been having a strange dream. At first, it’d started off as nothing out of the ordinary—you were wandering around the House of Lamentation, doing nothing in particular—but part way through, things had suddenly turned…sexual. Belphie had appeared out of nowhere, whispering dirty things into your ear as his hands found their way beneath your clothing.

Now that you’re awake, the images are beginning to blur in your memory, but you remember, at the very least, that things had just been starting to get good. His mouth on your tits, his hands parting your legs as he prepared to enter you.

“Mmm,” you whine, eyebrows pinching as you feel some pressure in your lower half. You feel…stretched, full—and instinctively clench your muscles, wondering what could be wrong.

“Mm, fuck,” you hear someone’s voice catch—a groan caught behind closed lips—and your eyes open a little wider. You brain fully boots-up, and you become aware of quite a few things at once.

One, your chest is in the open air—your nipples hard, and sore, but somehow, you feel that the reaction isn’t from your lack of covers alone.

Two, the pressure you’re feeling in your lower half is not just a figment of your imagination. Something is inside of your pussy and—

Just as you begin to panic, your eyes flit downward, and you pause. You spot the Avatar of Sloth between your legs—his bottom lip caught between his teeth, and a pure look of ecstasy on his face as he bottoms out inside of you. You can feel the head of his cock pressed up against your cervix, and you gasp—cheeks going red as you finally realize that you hadn’t just had a wet dream coincidentally. No, Belphegor had actually been touching you in your sleep.

“B-Belphie?” you question, pushing yourself up slightly to stare at him. He startles out of his bliss, his orange eyes meeting your embarrassed gaze, and in that moment, you can see an array of emotions flash across his face. He’s embarrassed at being caught, scared of how you’ll react, but…in the end, he still desperately wants to fuck you.

“You know,” he says, experimentally rolling his hips against you. The feeling of his cock inside you is suddenly very prominent—his girth a little overwhelming—and you struggle to catch your breath.

“You got really wet in your sleep. Were you dreaming about me doing this to you?”

“I…,” you can’t find the words to say, your blush creeping down your neck and onto your chest. Belphegor grins happily, his fingers pressing into your skin as he drags his cock out, and then forces it back in again.

“Oh? I was just teasing, but it looks like I hit the nail on the head.”

Your mouth opens, but no words come out. How are you supposed to respond? Had he really been touching you in your sleep? It’s not like you weren’t interested in the youngest brother, and hadn’t daydreamed about him before in this light, but…you hadn’t imagined him ever being bold enough to literally fuck you out of your sleep.

Belphegor grinds into you once more—his cock pressing into your sweet spot—and you moan, your spine curving upward off the mattress. You can sense the pleasure that has already pooled in your gut—the sensation either left over from your wet-dream, a product of Belphegor’s actions in real life, or both.

Humming, the youngest brother coasts his hand up your torso—his fingers dragging across your supple skin and causing goosebumps to rise. His touch ghosts between your breasts, his warm palm settling against your throat as the pads of his fingers squeeze firmly on either side of your neck.

“Do you like that I played with you without you knowing?” he asks, but you can tell he already knows the answer. He rocks against you—his length dragging between your walls at an agonizingly slow pace. One that has a whine building in your throat—your body shifting down to try and quicken his thrusts.

In response, Belphegor squeezes your neck a little harder, and you feel light headedness beginning to set in.

“I’d really like it if you answered my question.”

“Yes,” you respond. As if rewarding you, the Avatar of Sloth bucks his hips a little harder—his pace speeding up incrementally.

“Have you been wanting this to happen?” he continues, an edge to his tone. You realize that as you reaffirm his suspicions, his arousal grows. He wants to hear you admit all the dirty things you’ve thought about him and have kept to yourself.

“A lot.”

Again, Belphegor ups the intensity—lewd, wet sounds echoing throughout your room as he penetrates you. His hair is messier than usual, a dark look in his eye that lets you know he’s enjoying this a bit too much.

Despite not being the best of friends with Lucifer, he certainly has inherited a bit of his older brother’s sadistic tendencies…

“Belphie, mm, please,” you beg, your eyes half lidded as you glance at him. He’s pounding into you with no remorse, the bedframe creaking with his movements. At the same time, his fingers continue to tighten around your throat. You can still breathe perfectly fine (albeit your breaths coming out short and hitched thanks to his cock and the wonders it’s doing to you), but things are starting to become a bit fuzzy thanks to the lack of blood flow. Yet, somehow, the sensation only causes the fire smoldering in your gut to reach new levels.

Belphegor feels your pussy clench around him, and he basks in the way your head falls back against the sheets—your eyes mindlessly watching him as he unravels you. Really, he wants to choke you even more—keep you a mindless little puppet who can do nothing but take what he gives—but he doesn’t want to hurt you. You’re a human, and this is the first time you’ve both been intimate like this, so. Despite his deep, dark desires, he loosens his grip.

Immediately you breathe deeply, your eyes regaining their light as your mind becomes more aware.

“Do you want to cum?” he asks, his hand still holding your neck firmly. You nod your head, bottom lip catching between your teeth. The look on your face is one of pure ecstasy—a hint of desperation beginning to knit between your eyebrows—and Belphie licks his lips.

Truly, he wants to burn this memory into his mind. You—writhing against the sheets, filled to the brim with his cock—your tits bouncing at every thrust, and your fingers gripping at the sheets. He’s not sure he’s seen anything so beautiful.

“I want you to beg.”

“Please,” you respond immediately, never breaking eye contact. “Please, Belphie. I want to cum so bad.”

“How bad?” Even if his member throbs painfully at your words—his own release taunting him—he doesn’t feel like letting you off so easy.

“V-Very bad,” you stutter, knowing that you could cum at any moment. You’re only holding on by a thread. However, there’s a submissive part of you that wants his permission first—even if holding back makes you feel like you’re going insane.

“I need to cum, Belphie. Please. Oh god, please!”

Your spine curves, eyes pressing shut and knuckles turning white, and Belphie knows this is it. You’ve reached your breaking point.

“Cum,” he commands, permitting your release. Immediately, your walls hug his cock—a guttural groan sneaking past your lips as you let go of yourself. The Avatar of Sloth loses himself in the way your pussy grips his length—attempting to milk his orgasm out of him—and it works.

He curses, his fingers once again pressing against your neck as he empties himself inside of you. You whine at the feeling—wet, and sticky, and perhaps you’ve gone a bit light headed again from his grasp (but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it).

“Belphegor,” you whisper once you’re sure his bliss has subsided—his eyes fluttering open as his gaze falls on you. You look a little helpless now—and immediately the youngest brother sweeps down to kiss you. The gesture is sweet—his lips soft—and you lift your arms to wrap around him.

“I’m sorry,” he says, a little heartbroken by how defenseless you look now that the heat of the moment has subsided. Even if you had both enjoyed yourselves, Belphegor is guilty of quite literally fucking you out of your sleep, and he’s sure the entire scenario is a bit startling.

Beneath him, hugging him to your chest, you shake your head.

“No, it’s okay,” you reassure him, your cheeks flushing pink. “I enjoyed that. It was just…unexpected.”

“That’s what makes it fun,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss beneath your jaw. You giggle, your hands petting through his hair.

“I suppose you’re right.” 

You’re quiet for a moment, and Belphie blinks when your hands suddenly leave him. Glancing up, he finds that both of your palms are now covering your face—your blush beginning to sneak down onto your chest.

“Ahhhh~ I can’t believe I woke up with your dick inside of me,” you whisper, clearly frazzled. Belphegor laughs, pressing more kisses to your naked skin.

“And you loved it. Now stop freaking out, and let’s go to sleep. I’m exhausted.”

“Lil brat,” you grumble, but the Avatar of Sloth only laughs again. He rolls beside you—his head still resting on your chest, and you sigh. Of course, the demon who had decided to startle you awake is now the one so easily passing out atop you.

“You can dream about round two until we get to it in real life,” he says with a yawn, his cheek nuzzling against your breast. Your face feels warm again, but you don’t respond. Instead, you soak in Belphegor’s warmth—and within minutes, his steady breathing has lulled you back into sleep.

“How was your night?”

Lucifer’s voice startles you as you walk into the dining hall for breakfast the next morning. You jump, turning to face him with wide eyes. There’s an innocent smile plastered on his face.

“Good,” you respond, forcing a smile of your own as you try to keep any intimate memories of the previous night from resurfacing in your head. “I actually got some sleep.”

“Whhhhatttt? I figured Belphie would keep you up all night. He’s the king of night owls,” Leviathan speaks up from the table, turning to look at you and Lucifer.

“Well, he did wake me up, at some point,” you respond without really thinking, and immediately seven pairs of eyes are on you.

“Why?” Satan questions, his eyebrow raised curiously. Gazes shift between you, and Belphegor—who is sat at the far end of the table. He seems unbothered by the entire situation.

“I was feeling needy,” he says, and you can hear the grin in his voice, even if it doesn’t show his face. “Y/N helped me out.”

Immediately Mammon is choking on his food—Beel reaching over to smack his back. Asmo looks a little too giddy at his brother’s proclamation, eyebrows wiggling suggestively as most of the brothers turn their attention back to you—awaiting your response.

Obviously, the only logical option is to roll with it.

“Why are you all looking at me like that? I can tell what you’re thinking, you perverts.”

Neither a confirmation, nor denial. So, not necessarily a lie!

“Wow, what kind of person do you take me for?” Belphegor joins in, enjoying the moment way too much. Lucifer’s eyes narrow, not very convinced, but he doesn’t press the matter.

“I’m glad you managed to get some sleep. I’ll be awaiting your report,” he ends up saying, and then leans in a bit closer. “I expect it to be written in full detail.”

A chill runs up your spine, and he smiles at you once more before stepping away from you and heading to the table. You join him after a moment, your eyes landing on Belphegor as the youngest grins—dancing around Mammon’s questions as the second oldest begins interrogating the Sloth Avatar on the true meaning of his words.

Belphie is practically beaming as he teases his brothers, and you find yourself rolling your eyes—a fond smile tugging at your lips.

Oh gosh, what are you going to do with him…

…and oh fuck, what are you going to do with your report?

[hockeyisit]

SIMP

Summary: Amelia and Auston fight for the first time.

AN: Hey guys I decided to release this today because I dont know when I’ll get another chance to this week. Hopefully it will be soon! hope you enjoy. (Also I started writng a 5 + 1 and I’m excited about it!

Word Count: 1,939

Warnings: Talks of abusive exboyfriend, also smoking weed(if people dont like that) (If you like that welcome to the club)

Master List

“It’s our first time fighting over something real,” I huffed as I passed the joint to Macy. She nodded her head while grabbing it from my hand.

“What were you even fighting about?” she questioned as she took a hit.

I had spent the night at Auston’s the night before and everything had been going great. We were making out on his bed when his arm slipped to my neck and he accidentally choked me a bit. I pulled back immediately and ended up falling off the bed feeling mortified I kept my back to him.

“Babe. Are you okay?” Auston asked immediately. I felt myself shaking as I laid on the ground. He reached down to help pull me up but I flinched away after being pulled into a memory of my ex purposely choking me.

“Amelia. I am so sorry I didn’t mean to do that,” he told me honestly as he pulled his hand away from me. I tried to force myself to relax but being unable to do so, I turned to face him.

“It’s okay just shook me up,” I said as I slowly pulled myself back on the bed. He held his arm up in the air before deciding against touching me and placing it on the bed next to me.

“Is it about your ex?” he questioned softly as he lowered his head to gaze into my eyes. I looked away towards the door.

“Let’s not talk about this right now,” I finally said.

“How come you never talk to me about what your ex did to you? Do you not trust me?” Auston asked hurt seeping into his voice.

“Of course I trust you,” I told him as I tried to reach for his hand, only for him to pull away.

“Then why don’t you tell me anything about your past relationship,” he questioned loudly. I flinched away before hopping out of bed and putting my clothes on.

“Auston I will tell you when I want to tell you. YOU will not force me to do anything,” I sternly said as I pointed my finger at his chest. I grabbed his sweatshirt off the floor and threw it on before making my way out of his room and then out of his apartment.

The second I walked into my apartment I had started screaming in frustration. I finally had something so great and amazing in my life and it was going to get messed up by my ex. I couldn't handle the control he had over my life sometimes. Every time I thought I would never think about it I was reminded of something that had happened.

“Nothing it was dumb,” I told her not wanting to share our business.

“I’ve just never seen him so upset with me,” I said truthfully.

“Well, you guys are the best couple I know so you’ll make up. And that makeup sex is going to be great,” she winked at me before laughing loudly. I laughed along as I reached for the joint.

“I am a great girlfriend. So what! I don’t like talking about my past relationship,” I announced loudly after I took another long hit.

“Not everyone likes to talk about the bad things that happened to them and I don’t understand why he has to push,” I continued as I took another hit. I slowly felt myself relax.

“I was abused. No matter how much I talk about it it’s never going to change,” I said into the now quiet room.

“Amelia,” she started to say before being cut off by knocking on the door. We both shared a quick look before she got up to answer the door. I heard her quietly whisper to whoever was at the door before I finally turned my attention to her.

Standing at the door with a bouquet of flowers was Auston. I felt my heart squeeze a little before I looked down at the joint in my hand. He was so sweet unlike my ex. I lifted it up and took another quick hit before standing up and handing it to Macy. She quickly took it from my hand before leaving the two of us alone in the living room.

“I’m sorry Amelia. I had no right to push and I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable, especially to the point where you felt like you had to leave,” he said gently as he slowly made his way to me. I kept eye contact as I blushed. Taking the flowers out of his hand I set them on the counter before grabbing his hand to pull him to the couch.

“I wasn’t expecting you to ask me about my ex today. When we were cuddled up on the bed I felt so safe and then you just mentioned something that brought me so much pain,” I finally spoke as we faced each other. He gave me a pained expression before it turned into a soft smile as he caressed my hand.

“He did so many horrible things to me. I should have been honest with you the second you started asking questions but I was just so not ready,” I truthfully said as I gripped his hand tightly.

“I never thought I would be the type of girl that would be in an abusive relationship but once I was I couldn’t escape. He was emotionally and physically abusive. He did things to me that I wouldn’t wish upon anyone. But then I met you and you’ve treated me better than anyone I’ve met and I want it to last,” I continued as I leaned up to kiss his cheek. He held me silently for a few minutes before breaking the silence.

“I care about you so much and I want you to be comfortable with me. It was never my intention to make you feel unsafe in the privacy of our home,” he said gently leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead.

“Aus,” I said softly. He looked over at me with a raised eyebrow.

“I trust you more than anyone,” I said confidently. He gave me a happy grin while resting his hand on my knee. After another moment of silence. I started giggling before it turned to loud laughter. He snorted next to me.

“Are you high?”

I laughed loudly into his shoulder before pulling back to give him a giant grin.

“I was mad and Macy offered me a hit,” I giggled wrapping my arms around his neck. He laughed lightly before pulling me into a kiss. He pulled back slowly.

“I’m jealous. Wish I could join you, baby,” he teased, biting my neck. I squealed as I pushed him away by his chest. We both laughed before I leaned in to hug him. I heard the door open and I turned my head to the noise and in walked Ryan who froze upon finding us on the couch.

“Hey guys, hope i'm not interrupting anything,” he said with a grin a moment later. I wave to him slowly before standing up.

“Nope nothing. How have you been?” I asked him as I reached for Austons hand. He grinned at me as he grabbed onto mine.

“Pretty good. Been busy with work mostly,” he said as he started making his way to Macy’s room. I nodded at him before turning back to Auston.

“Do you need to go back to take care of Felix?” I asked him as I played with his hand. He smiled down at me as he slowly nodded his head.

“Yeah sorry. I still have to feed him,” he said as he pulled further away. I wrapped my arms across my chest before nodding shortly.

“Uh would you wanna come?” he asked as he rubbed his elbow with his left hand. I smiled gently before grabbing his hand.

“Yeah. Do you know how loud Ryan and Macy are?” I exclaimed loudly. I heard a “fuck off” from her room before the two of us started laughing.

I grabbed a few of my things before following Auston down to his car. Once we were both buckled we made our way to his.

“Can we go somewhere that has Mexican food?” I asked as I turned the music down in the car. He laughed loudly before pulling over into a street parking spot. He grabbed his phone.

“What do you want?”

“Rice, beans, and salsa,” I happily said shaking his arm. He laughed loudly before looking up the places on his phone. Once we agreed on a place he called to place an order. Rice Beans Quart of Salsa Two tacos

Once we had the food we pulled up to Auston house. He opened the door and Felix was on us right away happily barking. I laughed reaching down to him. He was always so excited to see me and it made me so happy considering Auston told me he had a little bit of a shy streak going on.

“Hi baby,” I said to Felix as I walked into the living room with the food. Auston and I both sat on the couch next to each other before he turned on the TV.

“Do you mind if I play Xbox with the boys?” he asked as he held up his remote. I leaned forward to grab my rice and beans off the table.

“No. I have my food,” I said as I held it up to him. He laughed before pulling his headphones half on.

“Hey guys,” he said once he was in a game. I glanced at the screen to see him playing with Mitch, Freddie, and Willy. I turned back to my food to take a bite.

“Oh my god. Auston,” I said loudly. He focused on his game of NHL for a second before glancing over at me.

“Yeah babe?” he asked lightly.

“This rice is so good. Do you want to try it?” I asked as I crawled into his lap almost fully blocking his view of the TV. He tried to look around me before laughing loudly. I moved a forkful of rice to his mouth. He narrowed his eyes at the food before leaning forward to eat the food on the fork.

“Is Amelia there?” I heard Willy say through his headphones. I raised my eyebrow at Auston while eating another bite of rice.

“Yeah Willy baby it's me,” I called out loudly getting a laugh from all the boys in the headphones. Auston rolled his eyes with a smile on his face. Out of all the guys that Auston had introduced me to I had gotten along with Willy the most. We were constantly cracking the other up. It was a pretty surprising thing to see us get along so well. Auston didn’t seem to mind our friendship at all.

I heard the guys start talking in Austons ear as I ate my food. He looked at me with his passionate eyes. Sometimes when he looked at me it was hard to pinpoint exactly what he was thinking about. He had a very drivin mind and he always seemed to be planning something.  

“I can’t see babe move,” he said shaking his leg to try to get me to move.

I placed my food on the couch before leaning into his chest and cuddling up into him. He quickly wrapped his arms around my body and continued to play.

“Mitchy you're just as much of a smip,” he loudly teased. I laughed lightly as I hugged him. Maybe I’ll just sleep here I thought as I drifted off to sleep.