#he absolutely adored Mac’s pretty ears

[its-malarkey]

My newest LMK headcanon that spawned while drawing for Burn: Macaque wears a glamour over his ears because during their fight, Wukong tore them up to such a horrifying degree that Macaque can’t stand to look at them or let anyone else see them

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 12/09✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

@snsp6 I really hope that this won’t change MK’s view on his bio dads :( Anonimo Hello! Wanted to ask or more so I am wondering, will MK start seeing Wukong differently after finding out he literally killed Mac and even after seeing their past and how close they were, dam the trauma, anyhoo I love your art and the Shadowpeach bio parent au! Keep up the great work! >:D

Oh it will. (In a good way? a Bad? that's for me to know and for you to wait a week to know)

@hopefulbelievertimemachine Imagine if MK found someone who recently found out that they were a demon and he comforts them cuz he had a similar experience.

Oh that would be sooo wholesome!!! It's one of my fav trope when there's another character who go throught the same exact thing as another character and the two of them bond over this.

@zammy357 Hello, hope your day/night is going well. I wanted to ask since me and a friend like your bio parents blog and wanted to know if we can use it for an arc? Our blog is called @amnesia-wukong-au. We wanted to ask before we started doing it.

Hi!! Yeah sure as long you tag me and the masterpost of the shadowpeach au

Anonimo Wait what is a glamour (in context of Sun Wukong and Macaque)

A glamour is a magic spell that changes/cover your appearance. Like in the show macaque should technically have 6 ears. for animation purposi I guess they are not drawing all of them, but we say he uses a glamour also for covering his scarred eye.

@clueless-simp ha chiesto: What if PIF, BDK, Sun Wukong, and Macaque (and most definitely Mei) did a "parent trap" tactic to get MK and Red Son together? Setting things up, getting them alone together, pretending they are all busy, and the only option is for them to spend time together under the sunset XD XD XD

Oh no that would end bad. like-comically bad.

@honeylavender27 ha chiesto: Imagine red realizing mk doesn't know about court napping and just invites him over one day. Red son: so I'm sure your wondering why I invited you here.. Mk: yeah it's kinda weird you didn't want Mei to come. Is everything ok? Red: perfect actually, I'll explain everything just enter here first please. Mk: oh ok -walks into the prepared courtnapping room and gets locked in-.....uh red? Redson: consider yourself courtnapped...

Ahah poor MK. I think they would make a disastrous courtnapping that would be the equivalent of the phrase "task failed succesfully"

@artgurusauce ha chiesto: ARGGGHHHH, they're SO CUTE! I love your bioparent AU so much! Altho I am wondering: When MK turns back to normal would he retain some subconscious paternal attachment to our ol boys here? Maybe he even calls Macaque "Mom" without realizing it...

@blazerratbluefire-blog ha chiesto: Plot twist of the century for the oblivious monkey men. MK remembers ~everything~ when he was a cub! I'm not sure if that is what is planned, but! It would be really funny! Especially if he just calls Macaque 'Mama' all casual and just walks away. While Macaque EXP. has crashed and is rebooting. Gosh, that would be so cute! I absolutely love your artwork, by the way! It is so adorable!

Can't answer yet. He does NOT have memories, but he will remember ONE thing...

@daniellemarvel4 Hi, fist off I love your work and can't wait to see what you do next! I was wondering who is more protective of MK when it comes to Red Son? Whether that would be Pigsy, Wukong, Macaque, or even Tang (mabye Mei but I don't think she could stay serious long enough). Also, can we see what Sandy's doing?

mmmmmm---- I think Wukong. Freenoodle is pretty chill with the DBK family after everything that happened. Mac is also quite alright since he was always in good relationship with them. I would say Wukong would just want to be sure his kid doesn't get hurt by the fire in any way

Anonimo I've been squealing, grinning, and kicking my feet going through the Shadowpeach Bio parents AU. Baby MK has been SO CUTE and fun. I wonder if he's going to remember or be embarrassed about it. Another part of me hopes that river is still in play so Sun & Mac can fall in and suddenly MK and everyone has 2 chaotic super-powered Baby Monkeys to take care off 😭 😭 😭

Anonimo ha chiesto: I almost cried they are sooo cute. I hope that we get more sweet family content. Loving the comic thanks for making it 💕💕💕💕

Anonimo ha chiesto: I don’t want the cure to work ! Or could it be like that: MK is such a powerful being that the Dosis Pif gave them, just wasn’t strong enough. Instead it only aged MK up a bit so now he is a small kid or a teenager but not a grown ass money man again. I am not ready to leave the monkey family stuff behind 🥺

unfortunately the river has been close untile further notice. (dw this wont be the end)

@cutvdo ha chiesto: Mei bribing Red Son with baby MK pictures

@luciferapollyon ha chiesto: I hope Mei, Red Son, Macaque and Wukong all got pics before they turned MK back

Anonimo ha chiesto: DHJSJDJDH LIL BABY BEAN! I wonder if Wukong and Macaque took any pics of lil MK while he was smol baby? She would keep them and use them as blackmail. (affectionately)

Anonimo ha chiesto: Your shadowpeach bio parent au is just perfect!! Thankyou for feeding the fandom with the nectar of the gods!!! Especially the one where mac slips into the bed after wukong waits all night. Like Mac would wake up in the morning and see him fast asleep and think of Peng asking 'is there anything Wukong could do that would break his hold over you?' and just seeing him at his most vulnerable right now he's like 'no, not when he always gives me a reason to stay.'

MY HEART

@queen-of-purple-roses Wait if MK is experiencing Macaque’s memories then does that mean that Macaque can experience MK’s? Are they able to dive into each other’s minds?

So the thing is that MK is hearing the past from both POVs. Macaque by definition can hear ANYTHING so yeah he could definitely experience MKs memories. But the thing is-does he want to? I headcanon that his future-present-past hearing abilities are something he only used a couple of times, and because what he heard from them was so traumatic, he decided to NOT use them again (like wukong laser eyes)

@sillygothpartykid ha chiesto: I know everyone is asking you to make the gay monkeys kiss but I actually like how you are developing their relationship. You letting them work through their problems and feeling first giving us that sweet, sweet slow burn! Love your art btw!❤️❤️❤️

awwww ty!!!! yes pls slow burn for life.

@kraytherandomchick ha chiesto: Hey, love your ShadowPeach AU! (Started rereading it after crying from the season 5 finale hehe :'D) But there's always something that's kinda stuck in my head, if MK's no longer immortal, would Macaque or Wukong get sad at the thought of getting older and forced keep going without him?

So- *sigh* technically, we don't really know MK immortality status. it's a grey area for now. Because on one side, he's a stone monkey, who, by nature like Wukong, can perfectly age and grow like a normal monkey. On the other hand, he's technically died already, and by the time he was created by Nuwa, both his biological fathers were already immortal (Wukong bc yes, Macaque because he's a demon, and he can die from wounds and illness, but can't age)

So to answer: we don't know yet what's with him. we will see (I promise that)

@lmk4ever ha chiesto: I LOVE THE SHADOW PEACH BIO PARENT AU SO MUCH!! Mk boi is so lucky to have a artist like you and fathers like them. I want to ask, will shadowpeach ever get into a fight out of anger in front of Mk? Or did they moved on from that phase?

If they will fight it will be more of like- the 2 dads grounding MK. If they need to fight they learned that they need to go on another mountain to do it so they don't bother their child

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will we get a traffic light trio ship?

Probably not, but I'm all for dragonfruit/spicynoodle and having MK and Mei NOT dating each other at the same time.

@yuk1yun ha chiesto: If lmk season 6 isn't like your au, then I don't want to watch it

BRUH THAT'S THE NICEST THING I HEARD ALL WEEK

@conniescialla ha chiesto: HIIII!! ok scusa l'italiano ma letteralmente trovare artisti italiani ispira sempre quel momento patriottico alla YES ONE OF US MUAHHAHAH Scherzi a parte, il comic Shadowpeach bio parents Au è meraviglioso, si approva soprattutto l'hurt/comfort ;p

Tanti kudos!!<3

AAAAHHH CHE BELLO UN ALTR* ITALIAN*!!!!!

Anonimo ha chiesto: I really wanna see jelous wukong!!!!!! I dunno maybe some random demon trying to flirt with emo monkie or something and wukong is like oh hell no!! He is mine!! I think it would be so cute

he would become incredibly possessive and start hissing and growling like a tiger. NOBODY TOUCHES MY SOFT PILLOW

Anonimo ha chiesto: I think it would be so cute if Wukong would take care of sick Macaque! It would show Macaque that Wukong changed and is no longer like he was before. I wonder if Macaque got sick, would MK help or would Macaque be too stubborn to let anyone know.

I know everyone says Wukong is this great sage with incredible abilities in every field (and he is) but I would like to imagine that, since he needs to do these thing for Macaque specifically, he's so stressed over the fact he needs to do them perfectly that he fucks up lmao.

Like, he would try his best to take care of him and almost burn the kitchen in the meantime, while Macaque was only hoping the two of them could just stay more in bed cuddling each other

Anonimo ha chiesto: im just imagining Mac getting anxious becouse he cannot find baby MK and Wukong is there to calm him down

@shadowpeachera ha chiesto: Heyy I absolutely love your shadowpeach bio au, the drawings, the text its perfect! Did Mk every run off or get into trouble now that he’s a cub or even play games with Wukong and Macaque like hide and seek? That would be really cute. I can imagine them playing hide and seek while Mk discovers he can make shadow portals, meanwhile his parents are stressing and scared as they have no idea where he is.

i think both of them would freak out.

WAIT I HAVE THE PIC I HAVE THE PIC

I'VE BEEN SAVING THIS PIC SINCE 2017

@nyx-daughterofchaos98 ha chiesto: Hi! For LMK, I watched a nature documentary on Monkeys the other day and a lot of monkeys correct each others behavior by doing something called “Disciplinary Nips” or “Discipline Bites” (This isn’t a sexual ask I promise) I think it would be absolutely hilarious, if Macaque and Wukong are napping together, and for whatever reason, Wukong keeps moving around, unable to get comfortable. And in his sleep-riddled state, Macaque gets annoyed and bites him. 🤣 Like; I’M TRYING TO SLEEP! KNOCK IT OFF! 🤣🤣🤣 And when Wukong does stop moving, Macaque does actually fall asleep. Even better is if Macaque wakes up and has absolutely No Idea he bit Wukong because he was half asleep at the time. Or he thinks it was a dream and ensue the shenanigans when he realizes it wasn’t.

OMG THAT'S SO CUTE AND SILLY AAHHHH!!! EVEN BETTER: what if they do this without noticing BEFORE they are like-actually romantically back together, and someone sees the mark bites AND THEY START TO ASSUME CERTAIN THINGS BRUH.

@tabs-tabi-tabby  Can Macaque help with MK’s clones? Or would that be Wukong’s area?

MK can't make the same clones macaque has. He can control a little bit his own shadow, and use that as a clone. so as long as it's his own shadow, it's more Mac area, if it's his own hair clone then it's Wukong's

@startdustmonkie ha chiesto: Does Mk and or Wukong know about Savage and Rumble? (If so how did they find out about them?) — (also: do Savage and Rumble see Mama macaque as a parent?)

@mushrum-soup ha chiesto: Hi just wanted to say I absolutely adore your shadow peach au it's literally the highlight of my week 💖I was wondering tho are rumble and savage just shadow clones in your au or similar to their Lego counterparts :O?

Yes they know about them. No they aren't his kids let's say. My own personal headcanon for the Au (or the show in general) is that they are both Macaque shadow, like- clones with a little bit of personality just like MK clones represent specific parts of his personality. He has 2 of them because he lived 2 lives, one before and one after he was brought back to life.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Just read the latest Shadowpeach bio kid comic, and i cant help but giggle a bit at how MK’s chirp woke Wukong and Macaque up lmao just the “and they snoozing- OH SHIT BABY CHIRPING WHATS WRONG-“

HE IS BABYYYY

@hellobur ha chiesto: Did you base when mk was reaching fr macaque after he was walking away because mk called him mama after this or was it a funny coincidence (mk also doe the pose but I can't find it lol)

Also I absolutely love this story and your art your work is incredible! ^^

Omg LMAO NO I DIDN’T BUT NOW IT’S 100% MORE FUNNY

@dragonaboni-blog ha chiesto: Hi! First off, I love your art and your Shadowpeach AU, it's the reason I'm reactivating my own Tumblr account lol One of my favorite tropes in this story is "A gets sick and B takes care of him" so I'm wondering… What would that trope be like in the AU? What would the monkey trio be like when they got sick? Do any of them sleep through their illness? Or are any of them extremely dramatic like "These will be my last words…"? CoughcoughWUKONGCoughcough

Aaahh I’ve seen a lot of asks asking this one but honestly I don t know If I’ll ever draw that trope. Maybe bc Wukong should technically have canonically too much knowledge about general illness to be worried about normal daily life illness. If it was something more life-threating. Maybe yes, but I still have to cook.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Counterpoint: wukong can't handle spicy foods because he has no impulse control and his monkee brain wants him to only eat fruit and peaches

Ouch. Yes that seems about accurate for him lmao

Anonimo ha chiesto: About the lmk bio au.... we have seen that MK can manipulate certain parts of his body in the 72 transformations... so..... Wukong and Macaque could technically have children.

I’ll be 100% honest I have no idea if stone monkeys are…fertile?

Anonimo Hey there! I am in love with your art. LMK is something that came into my life recently and damn I love it so much! Love your AU, and I can't wait to see more of it. Funnily, since the baby MK incident I imagine this later on becoming a somewhat spark of many funny arguments later on. What I mean is I see baby MK has a favorite parent (*cough-cough* MacCRACK *cough-cough*) [Sorry with the name joke, couldn't help myself]. XD. And I imagine Wukong be a bit jealous at times and go 'Anything you can do I can do better XD' Also see lovely Redson have a thing for MK, and then I imagine him ask his parents about advice on pursuing his crush. "So who is the lucky girl?" "Well, you already know him-" *Spits out water* "You got yourself a husband?" "What, no I haven't yet-!"

Aww I don't think MK would have a favourite but definitely there are times where he wants one parent more than the other (play time with Wukong, nap time with Mamacaque)

Anonimo ha chiesto: Yknow what they say… like father like son! In the sense that they’re all gay /j

Oh yeah absolutely it's genetic/j

@wolfasketch ha chiesto: Mac being on the sunny side and Wuwu being in the shadows

I know I'm looking into it too much but- AHHH!!!

That was unintentional but HOLY SIT U R RIGHT

Anonimo ha chiesto: Poor Red Boy never got to see baby MK! Imagine him just staring at the adorableness that is baby MK and being like 'I hope our future children look just like you OH MY GODS YOU'RE ADORABLE'. Baby MK: :3

Their child will literally be Kai from Ninjago so I guess THEY ARE RIGHT HE WILL BE

Anonimo ha chiesto: And then MK will wake up back to normal, confused, but proud that he managed to get them even closer?

100% yes

@drowning-in-webnovel-chapters ha chiesto: I can't imagine how the monkey dads are gonna try to go back to sleep after that, oof. Also Wukong definitely knows all that from when he used to help Macaque through visions, right?

Yup! He does indeed!

Anonimo ha chiesto: I’m guessing MK is getting a mini version of Macaque’s “can hear the past/present/future” thingy, did he managed to hear it accidentally or was he trying to learn more about his powers/Shadowpeach’s past ?

Yes, he was just wondering since last time that he found the sleeping cuddling with him, what exactly happened for them to rift away. Guess curiosity killed the cat

@aurabooboo ha chiesto: So. I'm rewatching season 5, right? I noticed that they almost had a yelling match with MK right in the middle. Would Wukong apologize to him for that?

These 3 have so much to talk about… i wont draw everything, but they definitely apologised offscreen.

@elianaroselight ha chiesto: It is quite telling how Wukong immediately knew what to do to help calm MK, but also, Macaque coming in with the perspective of having gone through it himself. The need for them to remain close by and wait until Mk is asleep before trying to leave. This means Mac has been through exactly what he is telling them not to do and knows the pain, sorrow and trauma that comes from feeling abandoned like this. They may be facing their past hurting their own kid through proxy and try to help him fight against the trauma. Luckily they have good people to help when they themselves can't. *looks at Freenoodles*

Yup! Their response is exactly related to what they do to calm the other!

@thenerdycupcake ha chiesto: So, does MK’s gold vision combine with his hearing sometimes so that he sees some of what he’s hearing from the past?

Oooohhh i guess he does! So he can literally see and hear the past!

@frogsfandoms ha chiesto: Omg why can I see after MK wakes up he thinks that it isn’t the past he’s hearing and that it actually just happened. Rushing to see if Wukong and Macaque are hurt and or trying to stop them from fighting 😭😭😭

Oohhh our baby still doesn’t want to believe it actually happened :(

Anonimo ha chiesto: Adult MK: OH MY GOD A SPIDER *desperate scared monkey noises* Baby MK: what's this? A 5 starts meal? *Tries to chomp said spider* He's gonna be sooo disgusted when someone tells him he tried to eat one fkdkdlfmfl

Oh poor MK. He’ll be teased about this for the rest of his days.

@sailera ha chiesto: Hello I have question about you Shadowpeach bio dads au- How would Pigsy react that his only employee turned to a baby? And hadn’t answered his phone in few days? Also love your art!! And your ISAT comic got me again interested in playing Sky ✨

Mk only became a baby for like- 20 hours. Mei told him that he stayed at FFM because he was ‘tired after training’. As of now Pigsy didn!t found out

---------------

That's all for this week! Thank you a lot for all the asks!

[genderfluid-insomniac]

Based on the conversation we had and the fact you mentioned you get things done faster if it's a request. Can I get Sun Wukong and Macaque separately with their glamour accidentally dropping in front of their s/o and them being absolutely drowned in kisses and compliments before they can put their glamour back up?

Kat you know I can't resist this and I loved writing this!!

Sun Wukong + Macaque (separately) with their glamour accidentally dropping in front of their s/o

Sun Wukong

"There's my gorgeous king." You always got genuinely distracted by the beauty of his eyes and how they glowed a crimson color, better than any sunset they'd ever seen. His scars made him look more attractive and you tried to kiss each and every one of them. After minutes of pleading and using puppy dog eyes, you were finally able to convince him to lower his glamours, now fully sitting on his lap and facing your beyond-beautiful lover. Brushing your fingers over his scared chest and loving the shiver that flowed through him at the affectionate touch he wasn’t used to.

A gentle rumble came from his chest and signaled to you that he was enjoying this, cupping his face in your hands and resting your forehead against his. “Such pretty crimson eyes. All for me to adore and love.” Sun leaned into your hands and smiled at you, every bit of him melted at your touch, and couldn’t help the way his tail swayed back and forth. You felt the extra furry appendage thumping on the ground, its gold and brown colors fading into one another from all the battles and burns he’d suffered.

You sweetly kissed his lips and chuckled at his eagerness to return it back. He mumbled how lucky he was to have such an affectionate and caring significant other, one who worshipped every aspect of him; even the features he considered ugly and shameful. “I love you.” Sun’s tail wrapped around your waist and buried his head into your neck, feeling your fingers run through the whitened patches of his fur. “I love you too, peaches.”

Six Eared Macaque

The shadow could barely process what was going on with the mountain of affection being poured onto him. Feeling every spot your lips kissed him and relishing the warmth radiating off of you, still energized from the beach day you had both attended. You had gone back to his place to recharge your social batteries (mostly his) and he’d dragged you into his arms for a nap. Although a persistent thought in your mind had told you it had been too long since your beloved demon let his true features show and one of the ways that successfully convinced Macaque to drop his glamours was showering him in affection and praises of affirmation.

The repeated pecks and hugs had caught him off guard at first, only being able to stare into the space next to you “So pretty.” You whispered and combed fingers through his fur, caressing his now accidentally unglamoured ears and petting the inside of each. The soft fur led into smooth scarred skin around his eye and lighter patches of fur from LBD forcing her power into him, white fur that contrasted his midnight black streaked down his right side. Macaque felt how you worshipped his ears and unconsciously curled his tail around his leg; an anxious tic he'd picked up over time. “Please, Mac. I know keeping up your glamours is tiring but I love seeing you. The you I fell in love with.” The red mask surrounding his eyes seemed to glow as he became flustered and stalled, attempting to find a response or witty comment. He laughed, tail swaying happily and forehead now resting against yours. You felt his hot breath against your lips and ears flutter at your affection, quietly laughing to himself. “You spoil me with affection too much, lotus.”

[crypticjackal13]

Hi- call me the snake annon! I'm here dropping an MK, Redson, Nezha, Mac and Wukong x Bunny demon reader? they can be fem or gendernutruel! extra happy if ya incloud fluffy cheast-...not at all bc i have been obsesed with that for months or what ever! XOXO ty for reading this and sorry if i have bad gramer english is my 5th laungeg -Snake annon

Howdy! This was a cute request! please enjoy, snake anon! :D

MK, Redson, Nezha, SWK, and Macaque x GN! Bunny Demon! Reader (Romantic Headcanons!)

MK - oh my gosh this boy thinks you are adorable. In the relationship he likes that you have the same kinda energy levels that he has! You two probably go on a lot of fun dates rather than serious ones(hitting the dance floor at the arcade as opposed to a fancy dinner). Also, he’s super affectionate with you in general, but it’s completely up to you if you let him pet your bunny ears or let him lean on your chest. He loves giving you bunny kisses(if you don’t know, it’s when you nuzzle noses with someone it’s so cute). 

Redson - probably very protective of you! After all, if you look this adorable, some other demon is sure to try and come after you…Red won’t let them get the chance :) anyways. You two are an interesting couple; a fiery Bull demon with anger issues and a very lovable and outgoing bunny demon…and yet somehow you cancel each other out enough that this relationship works out very well! You’re kind of like Redson’s “emotional support y/n”! And in turn you basically have immunity from any other demon attacks.  Red pretends to be very casual at first but at the end of the day he can’t resist those eyes that you give him when you want him to come cuddle with you. He’s a space heater, take advantage of it during the colder months! Also, he definitely uses your chest as a pillow. It’s the perfect way to convince him to get actual rest :)

Nezha - so so stoic but TRUST ME, he is internally screaming. How are you so cute and also want to be in a relationship with him of all people?? It’ll take a while, but he relaxes a bit and gets used to being allowed to be sweet and soft and romantic with you. When he’s stressed out he will definitely seek you out so he can chill, especially by just getting down to your level(assuming you’re shorter than him) and hugging you. His absolute favorite thing is wrapping you up in a blanket and carrying you around the house while he just does stuff because then he can have a kiss kiss whenever :3

Macaque - okay so prepare for some teasing from this man in the relationship. He’ll poke some fun at you and call you names associated with bunnies(lovebun is his favorite nickname to call you), but if it honestly bothers you he’ll ease up. Like Nezha, it may take him a minute to allow himself to let his guard down and actually let himself be loved as much as he’s loving you. He’s also pretty protective. He loves snuggling up with you at the end of a very long day more than anything else. It makes him feel safe.

 Wukong - remember the cooking with Chang’e episode? This is exactly like that except you’re not a robot trying to destroy him. Wukong cannot stop himself from squealing almost every time he sees you. He’s very into physical affection, so don’t be surprised if whatever activity you’re up to gets slightly interrupted by loud monkey purring as he nuzzles you. Similar to Macaque, he’ll poke fun at you, but it’s all very lighthearted and never meant as an insult. If you allow him to, he may shrink you down a bit so he can bring you with him wherever. He also cuddles with you and puts his head on your chest a lot.

[peachshadows]

Love the thought of c!Peng and Azure also pining for the c!shadowpeach, but could you imagine c!Macaque trying to fix his relationship with the c!brotherhood in the canon universe after all the shenanigans gets resolved (Jade Emperor Azure etc.)and ending up the closest to Azure because they have more similarities than they initially thought. And he goes to sundown universe and just absolutely blasts SD!Azure's ear off about all these cool things he learned and how Azure would probably like some of them. And just SD!Azure just being so confused, SD!Peng ans SD!Wukong being jealous, C!Wukong proud Mac is coming out of his shell and SD!Mac just being shocked at how casually this version of him is being playful towards SD!Azure.

Like:

SD!Mac: What r u doing!? He's a threat to our marriage—!

C!Mac: What? Pfft, no..! He's just a silly cat. Dude is a total softy, he likes neck scratches, he let's me do it to him.

SD!Azure: *too shock to operate* I-I what..?

C!Mac: You're totally adorable, big guy. Pretty warm too. *pats him casually* I should've really gotten to know you more. Can't wait to get home and have that night drink with you, you're a cuddler when you're drunk too. Had to call Peng to get you off of me. I'm a tiny guy, big guy, be more careful with me *laughs and sighs* I miss that lion... Mine, my Azure, my world's Azure that is... Not you, well, technically you?

SD!Azure: ... Your... Your Azure..?

SD!Peng and SD!Wukong: *cracks their knuckles and looks at c!Wukong*

C!Wukong: *puts his hands up in defense* In my defense, I didn't know Azure is a cuddler. I'm on your side, I'm mad as well. That should've been me—

In addition, C!Mac is, unlike SD!Mac, aware that C!Peng HAD a crush on him (Peng doesn't anymore) , so he would actively make Wukong jealous while C!Peng being better besties now helps him out. So C!Mac assumed it's the same in this universe, that SD!Peng no longer has a crush on SD!Mac and playfully flirts with him to make C!Wukong mad but because this Peng still does actually have a crush on him, it's just all around chaos for everyone. And C!Mac doesn't even know it.

OOOOO THAT IS FUN!! Love the idea of c! Macaque and c!Azure being besties and that just shocks everyone considering the start of their relationship was really just non existent

[in-my-feels-probably]

hi! could i have option two please? a romantic matchup with any of the teen characters from stranger things (male or female) since i’m 18? x

firstly, i use she/her pronouns. i am 5’2, have brown hair that reaches to my chest, hazel eyes, pale skin and a pear shaped, average physique. i also have a stoma bag on the right side of my stomach and a scar going from the middle of my stomach to the bottom. i usually wear a pair of hoop earrings, two/three rings across both hands and black painted nails. i either wear no make-up when i’m at home or light make-up (eyebrows, mascara, concealer) when i go out. i usually wear my hair down or in a ponytail and my style ranges from sweatpants and a sweater to anything chic, but recently i’ve been loving skirts in particular :)

some of my favourite things include fantasy/romance books, action and mystery movies (knives out and back to the future are my favourites of all time), new york city and any songs by fleetwood mac or queen.

i’m quite nerdy, so i love marvel movies and tv shows such as supernatural and the boys. i’m the type of person to create character arcs and future plot points as theories and nerd out about them to my friends. i’m autistic as well, so i infodump stuff like this to my friends quite a lot. linking to my autism again, i’m very shy, but i open up once i get closer to you (i kinda don’t stop talking once i’m comfortable around you). i have quite a positive outlook on life, i don’t like other people bullying others for their interests or things out of their control (sexuality, race, gender etc). i’m told i’m quite organised and determined, as well as a good friend who people can trust.

other hobbies i have are editing, playing guitar, singing (especially theatre) and chatting with friends. i also like to defend and fight for equal rights and justice across all subjects, primarily doing this through social media.

okay, that should be everything, thank you for doing this !

hi! thank you for participating :)

i ship you with jonathan!

in high school, he would think you’re so pretty. it would take him a while to build up the courage to talk to you, but once he finally did, you’d immediately click. you’d have so much in common. id consider him to be pretty nerdy, and he would absolutely love talking about movie franchises or comic books or anything else that you’re into. he would think you’re adorable, ranting about all your favorite things and theories to him, listening to you with a little smile on his face. i’m not sure if he would listen to fleetwood mac or queen on his own, but you’d definitely hook him on them, and he’d end up buying their records and tapes. and in return, he’d make you mixtapes, or have you listen to some of his favorite music when you hung out. once you got really close, he’d know he could tell you anything. you’d mutually trust each other with anything. jonathan got harassed a decent amount in high school, even a little still after. he’d know that you absolutely hate that, and would be there to comfort him whenever he needed it. you’d have to remind him how good of a guy you think he is, and that it doesn’t matter what any asshole says about him because it’s not true. he would have lucked out with you, knowing that you didn’t give a shit about what anyone else said. you’d always be there to support him, and will too. will would really like you, joining in on hanging out with you sometimes.

after jonathan showed will the clash, he’d be sucked in immediately. maybe one day, you’d surprise them both by learning on of their favorite songs. you’d bring over your guitar, playing it for them. it would become a routine. jonathan would call, asking you to come over, sounding a little upset. you’d know that either him or will had a rough day, and needed some cheering up. so you’d bring your guitar, letting yourself in and plopping down on the couch. they’d come out of their rooms when they hear you, coming into the living room.

jonathan would smile at the sight of you, with your guitar in your lap. “you brought your guitar.”

“i did,” you’d say, motioning for them to sit down. “any requests?”

“you’re the best. you make it so easy to love you.” jonathan would say.

“ew. get a room,” will would joke, fake gagging. “but he’s right, you really are.”

you’d fight off a blush, shaking your head. “hush, stop it. seriously though, sit down and give me a song. i learned some new ones.”

[squidkid15]

Squid!! SQUID!!! I absolutely adore godslayer Mac HDHCFFHGHFHGDVJ can we please know more about my boy, anything at all!!

I LOVE HIM SO MUCHT OO YIU DONT UNDERSTAND OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY

RAMBLES A LIL

TW for generally darker subject matter, this...is a darker AU.

TLDR: wukong was killed when they were just babies. Mac escaped (Wukong bought him time to) but...Mac saw it happen. Watched the gods strike down a child in cold blood. (They had a reason, but it wasn't a good one) And Mac, in response, trained his entire life to gain as many powers as he could to take them on.

He won.

Any powers from JTTW that Wukong earned and trained for? Mac has them now. As well as his shadows and hearing. As well as anything that....rubbed off on him when he took Heaven down.

He's...he's WILDLY overpowered, and he had to be to take on ALL of the celestial realm and win. Not even Wukong managed that in JTTW.

It took him a LONG time, they figured out his vendetta pretty quick (though they never learned why) and over a few thousand years he eliminated all of them one by one.

Mac was born with white fur and a pale eye mask in the AU, and he keeps that. Up until the blood starts to stain him. His limbs and face get stained with the blood of the gods he's slain, and never washes clean. (Hawk and I have been affectionately calling him 'Red').

He's brutal, leaving none of them standing and taking careful care to destroy their cores so none of them can come back. No reincarnating, no healing. They're gone for good.

Leaving only him.

Liu'er Mihou, The Six-Eared Macaque.

Heaven's End.

[angelatsumu]

cockwarming hc's [nsfw]

hello friends! mac is back with another hc <3 the boys and their cockwarming styles <3

boys: bokuto, nishinoya, mattsun <3

requests are open!

warnings: puppy!reader in some, dom vibes in all, overstimulation in Mattsun's, dacryphilia in Mattsun's, Mattsun's just super mean, fem!reader

nsfw under the cut!

b. koutaro

bokuto loves to cockwarm, he is the cockwarming king. he just absolutely adores the intimacy and closeness of cockwarming

bokuto loves the little stutters when he shifts unintentionally, the way you squirm a little from the closeness. he especially loves when you're clinging to him while he's working, and you seem so small in his lap

for bokuto, having his sweet girl so close to him, so warm and tight around him, he feels comforted.

everyone thinks bokuto's too impatient for this sort of thing, but if it means he gets to be this close to his puppy, he would do it til the end of time.

"hey, pretty girl," he beams as your little footsteps make their way into the room. he grins sweetly at you, brows furrowing slightly to mimick your own frown. you huff, circling his desk to stand beside him, towering only slightly over your gentle giant. he looks at you knowingly, patting his lap. before you can have a seat he stops you, shuffling his hand under his sweatpants for a few moments before revealing his semi-hard cock. you blush at him, and he just grins mischeviously. you sigh, sliding down your dampening panties to leave your cunny bare under the shirt you stole from him. bokuto sticks his pointer and index fingers into his mouth, holding eye contact with you as he dampens his fingers for you. you rub your thighs together as the aching in your heat continued to grow with every second. your eyes flickered to his prominent member, pink tip oozing precum just from the thought of being inside your velvety walls. a sigh left your lips the moment his damp fingers met your puffy folds, sliding between them to redistribute your wetness. bokuto groaned softly at the feeling of your warmth, resolving on taking his time. you huffed at him once more, rocking your hips to graze your clit along his fingers, and he looks up at your scoldingly. "aw come on, pretty girl. behave." he isn't harsh when he says them, but they encourage you not to push him any further. his hand retracts from your cunny, and he immediately pulls you into his lap, chest to chest. you sink onto his heat slowly, his hands gripping your waist to deter you from bouncing on instinct. the groan he lets out, soft and whiny, makes your cunny throb, and he lets out a soft whimper. your face buries in his neck as he continues watching his volleyball tapes, blush slowly rising to his cheeks. "if you stay really still, daddy might reward you, hm?" he has a smirk in his voice, and you nod eagerly.

n. yu

okay so i am team small body nice dick so i firmly believe that noya is packin' a little heat

anyway, nishinoya gives me switch energy with a dom lean because he's small and wants to feel bigger

that being said, baby probably uses cockwarming as a way to make his pretty baby beg for him

he is not dicking you down unless you are on the verge of losing your marbles, and that's just that

it would probably be an ego thing, like you had made him feel small or something while you were out and he was just pretending it was fine until you're ready to get to action and he's just sitting there vibin'

"aw puppy, don't be so shy, come sit," he's patting his lap, dick in hand as he keeps his eyes fixed on the television. he tries to look disinterested, and that nearly makes you drop to your knees for him. you sigh, standing over him with a slight blush on your cheeks. he glances up at you, hand moving to swipe over his swollen tip before nodding toward his cock once more. you let out a whine, straddling his waist with your chest facing him, sinking onto his dick. he bites his lip at the sensation, almost forgetting about the end goal. nishinoya grins mischievously at you before sitting back against the sofa and directing his attention away from you again. the lack of stimulation puts you on edge as your walls stretch to get accustomed to his girth. yu's eyes purposefully catch yours before trailing down your body to where his cock disappears inside you, and despite his cock twitching, he shrugs in disinterest. you whimper at him, pawing at his chest as he directs his attention to the television again, pretending to be captivated by the replay of a random volleyball game. he ignores your whimpers, but with every slight movement, his hands get tighter on your waist. you work yourself up to grind against him, desperately seeking friction for your throbbing clit, and he allows two rolls of your hips before reaching between you and smacking your needy clit. "stop it, pup," he's stern despite the choked out whimpers he lets slip. your brows furrow in annoyance as you get comfortable in his lap, allowing your chest to press against his and your head to rest on his shoulder. "take your punishment like the good girl you are, and I'll be extra nice to your pretty cunny, okay?" you nod into his neck, sighing in relief. even after being a brat, you were still his precious girl.

m. issei

cockwarming is a punishment with issei, and there is nothing you can do to change his mind

this man is very into overstimulating his bratty girl, and what better way than to make her sit completely still on his cock and abuse her clit?

genuinely couldn't care less if you cry (well he would prefer it honestly)

half the battle is sinking onto his monster cock. the other half is getting through the night without crying

you relent on your tears to disobey him, but it eventually comes out.

would cum inside you by your second orgasm, but that doesn't stop him from torturing you endlessly

usually says things like "stop holding it, just give in" [i am writing a separate headcannon on forced orgasms with the boys→ yikes]

your chest heaved as you sat in issei's lap, legs spread with his cock deeply seated in your tight, throbbing cunt. your cheeks were warm with embarrassment and overstim, eyes closing lazily as he retracted his fingers from your clit. your walls squeezed him like a vice, eliciting swears from under his breath. he peppered kisses along your neck and jawline, pulling your back against his chest as he peered at you through the mirror in front of you. "i'm not done, silly girl," he smirked at you, right hand disappearing behind him. you squeezed your eyes tight, fighting tears from your third consecutive orgasm by his fingers on your clit alone. you whimpered, pawing at his left hand on your hip, aching to be set free. "oh puppy~" your eyes flutter open to see a shit-eating grin on issei's face, and you immediately let out a whimper. your eyes pan to his right hand, seeing your wretched vibrator he'd confiscated from you weeks ago. immediately your cunny tightened around him, and he let out a cheeky grunt. "awh, my little one is so-" he presses the vibe against your clit, starting on a lower speed. "close-" he kicks up the vibe's speed, "to breaking~". you let out an involuntary moan, soft and desperate as your back arches against his chest. you feel your high coming, the coil within you moments from snapping. still you relent, squeezing your eyes shut to fight the tears he so painfully needed. issei grunts in your ear as your cunny milks him, convulsing walls pushing him over the edge. he paints your walls with his cum, letting out a deep huff as he thrusts involuntary, earning another desperate whimper from you. "s'too much, daddy~" you whined, gripping his arm as he pressed the vibe deeper into your heat. "i know, baby, but you know what I want," his words were slick as they went straight to your heat, nearly propelling you past the point of no return. his left hand wrapped around your throat, as his lips met the shell of your ear, breath fanning over your skin. "you're so pretty when you cry, puppy," he groaned in your ear as he astutely caught the single tear you let slip accidentally. losing all resolve as your orgasm washed over you, you convulsed in his grasp, tears flowing softly as he pressed the vibe further into your swollen nub, erupting quiet sobs from you as your hands took purchase on his working arm, trying desperately to pull him away. "one more," he whimpered, your weeping pussy driving him closer to overstimulation.

[skellebonez]

Morning Surprise- A ShadowVenom Fic

A special Mother's Day fic brought to you with the help of an amazing anonymous editor! Just a little something short and sweet for the day.

When Spider Queen went to sleep her beloved had been curled into her side with his face resting against the crook of her neck.

When Spider Queen woke up his face was in the same place... but the rest of him had, somehow without her waking or realizing, migrated to laying on top of her and holding her like some kind of monkey-octopus hybrid. It was adorable in a way, really. But given she was the Queen and had to wake up to start her day it was wholly impractical.

“Mango,” She said softly, gently nudging him. “I need to get up.”

Nothing. Not even the tiniest inkling that he would stir.

“Mango.”

Silence.

“Mac.”

Nothing. She nudged him harder.

“Macaque.”

Dead. Silence. She started to scratch the back of his head in exasperated fondness.

“Six-Eared Macaque. Angry boy. Love of my life.”

The smallest little purr in the back of his throat, but that could have been from the scratching.

“Mango.”

“Hrmng.”

“Mango,” Spider Queen repeated, though not in any tone of annoyance. She couldn’t help but chuckle at the sound, half a noise of affirmation and half a sound not unlike one a cat would make when they were disturbed in the middle of sleep. “Can you please move? I have things to do.”

“Hmnooo,” Macaque said, half muffled into her hair.

“Syntax was right, you do wake up like a computer from 1998 sometimes.”

There was the softest, the tiniest sound of protest. Not even a real sound of protest at all, almost more like a soft sound of acknowledgement and a grumble after. He was out of it, clearly. And she had only really seen him like this once before, after a long battle when he was completely exhausted.

“What am I going to do with you?” She asked fondly as she assessed her options.

Logically there were two real options that were truly viable. She could either move him and leave him so she could go about her day or she could lay here for as long as he needed to wake up on his own. These would be the options that a normal person would choose to take.

Spider Queen was not a normal person and she prided herself on that.

So instead she went with hidden option 3: Pick him up and carry him.

Which, in all honesty, was easier for her to do than most would expect. He wasn’t exactly the heaviest thing that she had ever picked up and, with her extra set of arms being a spider, it wasn’t like she couldn’t carry him AND do other things at the same time. This would be easy enough.

“Hmgwha?” Macaque asked softly as she stood from their bed and held him. He barely hung off her as she did this, a clear sign as to how out of it he was.

“Rest, little fruit fly man,” Spider Queen said with a chuckle.”You need it.”

He was asleep again already in seconds as she carried him off to a nearby sitting area where she had left old texts she needed to pour over that morning. Had he very clearly not been feverish or showing any other signs of illness she would worry for his health. But... no. Her beloved merely seemed to be excessively tired.

Or, perhaps, less than tired he was merely content. Something she hadn’t truly seen him be in centuries.

“... I should make you get up and go back to bed in a few minutes, but...” Spider Queen trailed off, sighing as she picked up her book. “I love you too much, Mango.”

Macaque said nothing, just laid against her purring in contentment as she read her book.

~

“What happened here?”

“I can’t get up,” Spider Queen grumbled with absolutely no real anger in her voice. If anything she sounded exasperatedly fond.

“He’s not that heavy,” Sun Wukong replied with a raise of his brow. “And you’re pretty strong, jus-”

“Moving him would be akin to moving a sleeping cat: a crime most foul.”

The Great Sage couldn’t help but laugh a bit at that, smiling fondly at the spider demon and her partner. This was not the sight he had expected to see when he decided to pay the two an early morning visit with some fresh fruit he had picked. Spider Queen, still in her nightgown, and Macaque, still in his own sleep clothes, sitting in a chair while Spider Queen read a book and Macaque...

Well. Slept. Curled up in Spider Queen’s lap and half draped around her shoulder with his face smashed into her neck. He could hear the soft purrs of his coming through as, every once in a while, Spider Queen reached up and gently rubbed his ears or ran her fingers through his hair.

“How long has he been like this?” He asked in curiosity.

“Since I got up half an hour ago,” Spider Queen answered with a small shrug. “He just... didn’t wake up like normal.”

“Probably because he feels safe.”

“... what?” Spider Queen looked away from her book, staring at Sun Wukong in surprise.

“Yeah,” he continued with a shrug of his own. “Think about it. He’s been fighting for ages. Fighting me, the Bone Lady, others who I probably don’t know about. No doubt he has scared a ton of people by accident and needed to hide somewhere just to get some rest. But now? He’s safe. He has you and no one can get here to hurt him. And we just finished up building this place yesterday, he finally has a place to call his own. With someone who loves him. This is probably the most sound he’s slept in years.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Spider Queen admitted, after a beat.

“Of course I’m right, I’m the Monkey King.”

Two green eyes glared at him in response. “I still have a free arm to punch you right in that smug face of yours.”

Sun Wukong, Great Sage that he was, has the brain cell to stop for once. He chuckles, throwing his hands up and stepping back. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave now. You guys enjoy the fruit.” The Monkey King grins warmly. “Expecting mothers need lots of nutrients.”

“Thank-whatdidyousay?” Spider Queen asked in a rush as she stared at the other in shock.

And Sun Wukong stared right back at her, eyes wide in awkward surprise.

“Uh! Uh! NothingenjoythefruitokayBYEEEE!”

Spider Queen didn’t even get to yell at him to come back before he called his cloud and zipped off to who knew where.

For several moments, the spider sits there quietly. She looks down. Gently moving Macaque to the side, she places a hand on her stomach. There’s another silence.

Spider Queen looks at her husband. Then presses down on her stomach.

Macaque wakes up to a very loud scream from his wife that morning.

[fizzy-tizzy]

Pet Headcanons for the boys!! (1/?)

Mac doesn’t really have any per-se, but he often feeds and plays with the stray cats that hang around Doc’s gym. The two of them have been talking about trying to catch and rehome them for a while now.

Joe has a fluffy persian cat named Chouchou. She’s incredibly sweet, but there is not a single thought behind those big eyes of hers.

Birdie has a corn snake named Candy Corn! (or just candy for short) She’s very clingy with Birdie, and will often sneak into his gym bag when he’s not looking. She caused quite a ruckus the first time it happened.

Aran’s family has two dogs, an old Irish setter named Duchess, and a mutt they picked up off the street named Rascal. And while he’s not technically a pet, Moira has managed to befriend a crow, which she’s taken to calling Flapjack.

Muscle owns a tiny little black and gray kitten he found as a stray. He’s named him Diablo, both for the fact that he’s a giant troublemaker, and that his ears curl in slightly like devil horns.

Narcis has had many, many pets in the past, most of them rabbits of some sort. His current darling is a english lop named Chiffon, who he’s had for the past three years. He absolutely adores her, and spoils her absolutely rotten.

Macho, of course, has his beloved dobermans, Bullet, Bruiser, and Butch. They’ve been with him for years now, and have helped him get through some pretty tough times. (hc stolen from @/askthewvba)

Disco has a lot of pets, most of them unusual or exotic. He has a caiman lizard named Skittles, a tank of moon jellyfish, all named after various lunar gods, and a couple of gorgeous betta fish (kept in separate tanks!) named after various gemstones. There’s also a pit bull named Athena, but she’s more of the family’s pet rather than Disco’s.

Hugger, of course, has his forest friends! Once again, none of them really count as pets but he loves them all the same. Most of them don’t leave the forest, but Chip the squirrel likes to accompany Hugger whenever he can.

[songbirdstyles]

when i kissed the teacher.

summary: the one man you want more than anything is the one man you can’t have - your english professor.

warnings: teacher/student relationship, age gap (implied), f receiving oral, whole lotta smut, whole lotta feelings, whole lotta angst

word count: 14.7k (strap in)

song inspo.: when i kissed the teacher - abba

There was something special about Professor Styles.

You knew it, and so did every other girl who took his class. Your less-than-appropriate feelings about him were shared and that should’ve made you feel better about having them - at least you weren’t as obvious as some of the other girls who obviously took a fancy to your English professor. You applauded their efforts, showing up to classes in short skirts and low cut tops in the hopes that they’d catch his eyes drifting down to their chests while he passed out your essays -

But they hadn’t had any luck yet. He was a very respectable man, and more than his looks, that was what you appreciated about him. He was passionate about English, with a curriculum that appealed to you from the very first day and essay topics that forced you to look deeper into every book that the class read. He was one of the youngest professors on campus and you could tell something about that seemed to motivate him - to not be seen as a joke by the older professors, to be taken seriously by the students, some of which weren't much younger than him.

You decided, after your very first class with him, that, in any other universe, you’d have fallen in love with him. Or perhaps tried to jump his bones immediately.

Something of that sort.

As classes progressed you found yourself only liking him more. His classes were as difficult as you’d anticipated and you should have hated it, hated how much work and effort you had to put into every assignment but you absolutely adored it. You loved doing his essays, loved the novels he picked, loved the look on his face when he handed back your assignments with a 100% scribbled on top.

Most of your assignments, at least.

It didn’t really make sense to you, why your 1984 analysis should have gotten a 71%. Truthfully, you’d felt confident while writing it - it was such an easy analysis that you’d decided to go a little deeper, spending more time on it than was necessary, because you were sure he’d be tired of reading the same essay from everybody over and over again. So you gave him something different and maybe you should have stuck to analyzing the same themes that everyone else did.

“If any of you are confused about your grade,” Professor Styles announces to the class when everyone has gotten their essays back, time left in class slowly ticking down, “please feel free to see me after class. M’happy to discuss any concerns with you.”

Perhaps you’re being paranoid, but you could’ve sworn you felt his eyes land on you.

Class ends within a few minutes and you take your time packing your things back into your bag, waiting until the last kid has trickled from the lecture hall before swinging your bag over your shoulder and making your way down to his office. The door is cracked open and he’s barely sat down at his desk when you knock, flashing him a smile before pushing the door open a bit more.

You clear your throat before saying, “Hey, um, sorry to bother you - ” he interrupts you, telling you that it’s no bother at all “ - I’m just kind of confused on why I did badly on this essay.”

He nods, motioning for you to come in, and you step inside before shutting the door behind you. His office is small and cramped, with bookshelves lining the walls and a couch pressed into the corner. It’s a good vibe, you have to admit, although slightly messy. Perhaps you’d describe it as cozy, and it seems to fit him well. 

There’s an empty seat in front of his desk and you sit down in it awkwardly, placing your essay in front of him. His eyes skim the first page before he tells you, “You usually do really well on essays, and this was … a really easy one.”

“I know,” you tell him, leaning forward to try and read what he’s reading. “I just thought you might be looking for something more complex. It seemed too simple.” When you look up, he’s staring at you, and you feel heat flood to your cheeks. “I don’t - I don’t know.”

“It really is that simple, I promise,” Professor Styles informs you, and he pushes your essay back to you. “But you’re one of my best students, and I don’t want to let this bring down your grade. So, I have an idea for how you can make it up.”

Your mind runs through all the ways you’d want to make it up to him - most of them involve you being on your knees, and you cough into your elbow. He doesn’t know what you’re thinking, but it doesn’t stop you from feeling embarrassed about it. Fantasizing about your professor from across the lecture hall is one thing, but you’re barely a foot apart from him now and you’re almost nervous he can hear your thoughts.

“I’ll do anything.” And you don’t care about the ways he could interpret it. He drums his fingers on his desk, and when you look down at his hand, you notice with a start that his nails are painted - you’d never seen that before, but you’d also never been this close to him, you suppose. You wonder if he gets them done or if he does them himself - you can’t picture him going to a salon, and the thought of him painting his own nails could make you cum on its own.

You don’t realize he’s been speaking until you zone back in, and when you look back up at him, he furrows his brows at you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry.” You shake your head. “Just - um - could you repeat that?” His eyes linger on you for just a beat too long, and your face flushes again. “So distracted,” he murmurs in a faux chastising tone, and your stomach flips. “What I said was that I’m willing to put this essay in as a 97 - your average for the class - if you would help me with grading some things. Not too heavy, maybe an hour or two after class. I’ve been falling behind with a lot of my classes and I’ve been looking for help, anyway, so it works out for both of us.”

Jesus Christ. Spending an extra hour every day with Professor Styles sounds like a recipe for disaster, and yet it also sounds completely perfect at the same time, and you’re nodding before you can fully process the pros and cons of the situation. “That sounds great. I mean, really - thank you so much.”

“S’my pleasure,” he informs you, giving you a large, dimpled smile. “So, after class, tomorrow - when I’m caught up and don’t need your help anymore, you’re off the hook.” 

“Got it.” you stand, grabbing your essay and your bag and making your way towards the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow,” he echoes, and the last thing you see before you shut the door is him, bringing his hand up to wave you off.

 ---

 When class concludes the next day you maintain the same habit as you did the day prior - watching every student trickle out the door before swinging your bag over your shoulders, grabbing the two cups of tea that you’d made before class and making your way down to the front of the lecture hall.

Professor Styles stands in the doorway of his office, holding the door open for you - you make your way inside with a tight, only slightly awkward smile. His eyes roll over the two cups that you’re holding and he asks, with a mildly amused inflection in his voice, “I guess you like tea quite a bit, then?”

You smile, looking down at your cups, and when he shuts the door you hold one out to him. “I do like it a lot, but this one’s for you. You know, to say thank you for giving me a freebie, and also because you look like the kind of guy who loves tea.”

He laughs and your grin widens at the noise - god, it’s like music to your ears, and you would do anything to keep hearing it from him. He reaches out to take the cup from you and brings it up to his mouth, taking a small sip - when he’s done his tongue pokes out to lap up a bit of tea from his lip, and you try to ignore how much the minuscule motion affects you. “This is perfect, Y/N. Just the way I like it. You’re an angel.” Your cheeks heat up, and then he says, “But you don’t need to thank me. I’m probably gaining more from this arrangement than you are, truthfully. People are starting to get annoyed with how I’ve been falling behind grading, which is where you come in.”

Yes, you’d heard the girls next to you whispering about how bothersome it was that they’d submitted three essays in the past month and had only gotten one back. Why does he give out so much work if he’s never gonna hand it back? 

It didn’t bother you too much.

“Well - alright, then. You’re welcome for helping you grade,” you tell him, pulling out the chair in front of his desk and settling in, dropping your bag beside you. You take another brief moment to glance around his office, as though expecting something to change, but it’s the same distinctly messy, cramped office that it had been yesterday. At some point, you should tell him that he ought to clean out his space, but that’s not what you’re here for - yet.

Professor Styles nods, making his way to the other side of his desk and plopping down in his spinning chair - it was quite nice, and made you wonder why the one you sat in seemed to be falling apart at the seams. But, then, you supposed teacher salary didn’t leave room for spectacular seating. “See, that’s the spirit.” All at once, the casual discussion between the pair of you died as he dug in the drawers of his desk for something - and then he plopped a large stack of papers on the table between you both. “This isn’t all of them - not even close. You’re very smart, so this should be pretty easy for you. Just read through them, add any notes, things they need to work on, and look at the rubric for a final grade.”

You nod, picking the first essay off the top of the pile and reaching for a pen from the cup on his desk - it’s a coffee mug with the Rumours by Fleetwood Mac album cover on it, and you take a moment to marvel at it briefly. “You like Fleetwood?” you question, voice seeming unnaturally loud in the sudden quiet of his office. “Didn’t strike me as that kind of guy.”

He looks up, then, from where he’d already begun scribbling bright red notes into the margin of someone’s essay. His eyes trail down to the mug full of pens, and then back up to meet yours. “You seem to make a lot of assumptions about the kind of guy I am. What’s that all about?”

“Nothing,” you assure him, your voice faux sweet and innocent, and he smiles slightly. “But I’m glad you have an appreciation for really good music. I was worried your music taste would be terrible, and then I’d have to live with the knowledge that Professor Styles exclusively listens to Justin Bieber.”

Your professor rolls his eyes, smile tugging at his lips. “You know,” he begins, “you don’t have to call me Professor Styles. Not outside of class, at least. It sounds weird when it’s just the pair of us here.”

“Oh.” You pause. “What should I call you, then?”

“Harry’s fine.”

Harry Styles. The name flows easily off the tongue as you test it out in a teasing tone, your eyes meeting his as you do, and your cheeks flush. You don’t know if it's commonplace for professors to allow random students to drop formalities and call them by their first names but you’ll accept it anyway - all you know is that, when you go home tonight, the thought of calling him Harry will fill your mind until you can’t stand it anymore. 

Harry as he buries his face between your thighs.

Harry as he pounds you into the mattress.

Harry as he bends you over his desk - this desk - the one you’re sitting at right now.

You cough into your arm and pick up your pen, pressing your thighs together to try and alleviate the throbbing that’s now affecting your body. You should’ve known not to let your mind wander because you’ve barely been here for 15 minutes and you already feel like you need to go rub one out in the bathroom. But you pause - take a sip of your tea, though it’s nearly gone from drinking it so much in class - and get to work grading Brianna Valeria’s essay on Death Comes to the Archbishop. The rubric sits on the desk next to you and you bury yourself in your work - if Harry notices the sudden silence that’s overtaken you, he doesn’t mention it.

For the rest of the hour, the pair of you work in silence. It’s comforting and surprisingly not awkward, and occasionally you ask his opinion on something one of his students wrote in their essays, but the playful banter you’d had before has dissipated. You’ve finished your tea and you suspect he has, as well, with the way he’s been feverishly drinking it.

“Oh,” he says, suddenly, and you glance up from where you’re in the middle of scribbling red notes into the margins of Alexander Simmons’ essay. “You should probably get going.”

One quick glance down at your phone proves that he’s right, and you rise from the extremely uncomfortable seat you’ve been perched in for the hour - you can practically hear your butt crying in relief. “Thank you so much for the tea,” Harry tells you, handing back his cup, and it’s empty, like you expected. “And - um. You don’t have to call me Harry if it makes you uncomfortable. Just thought it would be less formal, but if you don’t want to, it’s fine.”

Ah. He took your silence as you being uncomfortable calling him Harry. Well, it’s better than him knowing just how wet the sentiment made you, but you shake your head immediately. “No. No, I prefer calling you Harry. You’re right - it’s weird when it’s just us.”

He grins at you, then, standing up from his seat and stretching his arms over his head. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, then, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“You know, if I’m calling you Harry now, I think you should drop formalities too. Make it equal.”

“Okay … Y/N. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Harry,” you tell him, turning and walking out of his office with your phone in your pocket and two cups in your hands, blissfully unaware of your abandoned bag still sitting next to the terribly uncomfortable chair you’d been all too quick to leave.

 --

 It’s only when you’ve finished the trek back to your dorm, the sun beginning to lower down into the horizon, that the absence of your bag on your shoulder becomes prominent.

You can’t get into your building without your key and your key is in your bag and your bag is … back in Harry’s office, where you nearly made yourself cum just thinking about him. And the thought of having to go back across campus, back to his office, when he might not even be there, is not favorable, but you need your key and you need to bang out homework tonight, so with a soft groan you spin on your heel, walking away from the warm comfort of your building and making your way back to his.

As summer bled into fall and fall begins to bleed into winter, the weather has changed so drastically in just the past week or so that you tug your cardigan closer to your body, but the air that seeps through the holes in the crocheted sweater send goosebumps trailing up and down your body. The wind whips your face and brings tears to your eyes that run down your cheeks, and when you’re finally at the door of Harry’s building it’s a welcome surprise to walk inside, allowing the warmth to embrace you - even if the shock of the changing temperatures causes your eyes to water again.

His office is on the 2nd floor, so you pull open the door to the staircase and make your way up the two flights. Most professors have gone home for the day, classrooms dark as you speed past them to where you know his office is. 

His office is dark and your heart sinks at the sight - there are a few posters pinned to the small window, but you can see the lack of light clear as day. Your hand grasps the doorknob anyway, turning it without any hope that it would open - but then it was, giving you access to his dark office, and by the seat you’d occupied later you can make out your bag.

A breath of relief escapes your throat as you take a step inside, reaching down to swing it over your shoulder before turning to leave. And then you hear it - a small breath, an indicator of someone else in the room, and you whip around to look back around at the office.

Oh.

Harry sits in his chair, face buried in his arms, fast asleep. His hair is messy and in front of him sits the stack of essays you’d been working at early, hardly any smaller than when you’d left. It would nearly be an adorable sight - your professor, passed out at his desk - but it just seems concerning, and without thinking you’ve leaned over the desk, placing your hand on his shoulder and shaking him slightly.

“Professor?” your voice is soft, barely audible, and you speak louder when you say, “Harry?”

He doesn’t respond, so you say, louder still, “Harry?”

Then he stirs slightly under your touch, and you drop your hand from his shoulder as he lifts his head from where it had been resting on his arms, looking up at you with messy eyebrows and a thoroughly confused expression on his face. “What - what are you doing here?” Jesus. His voice is deep and raspy, sounding as though he’d been sleeping for ages instead of merely less than an hour, and if his present state wasn’t slightly concerning to you, you know that you’d feel the effects of his words between your thighs. But you pause, staring down at him, before asking, “What are you still doing here?”

“Just working on some grading.” He runs a hand through his hair, looking around the darkened office with an air of distinct confusion.

“With all due respect, Harry,” you tell him, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “I think you’re burning yourself out. You should go home.”

He hesitates, and then questions, “Why are you here? I thought you left -”

“I forgot my bag,” and you hold it up to demonstrate it to him. “Are you going to go home? I’m serious - you need a break. And to sleep on a bed.”

“I’m fine,” Harry says, and he stands up from his chair. It moves back and hits the wall with a soft thud that goes unnoticed by both of you. “You should go home, too. I need to finish some stuff up. I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.”

To neither of your surprise, you don’t move from your spot standing before his desk. You cross your arms over your chest, digging your sneakered toe into the plush rug on the floor of his office - you hadn’t noticed it before, but it’s pale blue and bright against the mahogany floors. The brief silence between you two, daring either of you to speak, fills the confined space and all you can hear is the ticking of the clock behind you, and finally you say, “You’re not going to get anything done when you’re exhausted. I mean, you fell asleep on the essays. How are you going to explain why there’s drool on their assignments?”

He gives you a tight lipped smile in response, looking down at the essay he’d been working on as if to check that no saliva had landed on the words. “You caught me at a bad time. I don’t usually fall asleep on top of student essays, I promise - but you should be heading out now. It’s getting dark.”

It is getting dark, he’s right - the window behind his desk shows the darkness that newly falls over the campus. And the thought of walking home in the dark scares you just a bit, but you’ll suck it up if it gets him to go home too. “Harry.”

“Y/N.”

“I’ll help you grade tomorrow. But you’re fucking yourself here -”

(Harry laughs at your choice of words internally, but it comes out as a small release of air and a soft grin.)

“ - so come on. Walk out with me so I can make sure you’re actually going home.”

Perhaps he’s realized he’s fighting a losing battle here, because finally he looks back down at the stack of ungraded essays with a small sigh and then says, “Fine.”

“Great.” Your grin widens across your face, and for a moment you make to hold out your hand to him, to drag him along like you would to any of your friends - but the second your hand raises you drop it down to your side, and heat burns your cheeks. He’s not one of your other friends, you tell yourself, stepping out of his office, hearing him walk behind you. And you can’t hold his hand, even as a joke.

“Where’s your dorm?” Harry asks you as he locks the door to his office and jiggles the handle to check it, and you jump at the chance to forget about what happened - you don’t want to dwell on it. “Is it far?”

“Across campus.” You raise your arm and point in the distinct direction of where your building is. “Closer to the cafeteria, I guess.”

“Christ, you have a trek, then, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” The pair of you make your way to the staircase, and from the corner of the eye you can see his head turning left and right down the hallway, as if scanning to see if there’s anyone coming - you can imagine it wouldn’t be great for him to be seen with a student long after classes ended. “I had to haul ass there and back to get my bag.”

He doesn’t respond for a moment, not until you’ve left the warm building and made your way into the cold air, the sun now having retreated for the night, and immediately you wrap your sweater tighter around yourself to try and provide some semblance of warmth. Harry glances down at you with a bemused smile, and you hoist your bag further up your shoulder.

“Well,” you sigh, breath coming out in white puffs. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Don’t burn yourself out, professor. And get a good night’s rest.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Shouldn’t I be telling you that?”

“Maybe.” You grin, feeling goosebumps sprout on your skin, and you shiver before turning in the direction of your dorm - the thought of walking home in the dark and cold doesn’t sound too great, but you’ve become good at dealing with it. “Goodnight, Harry.”

He doesn’t respond, and you’ve taken a few steps away when he calls out, “D’you want a ride?”

What?

“Y’know, like a ride back to your dorm. I can drop you off in the back - it’s just really cold and I’m sure you don’t want to walk so far in the dark.”

You turn back around to look at him, his cheeks a light shade of pink - whether from the cold or his offer, you can’t tell. And you’d love to jump in his car, accept his offer without a shadow of hesitation, but - “Is that allowed?”

Harry shrugs, and you know that’s code for absolutely not. “No one has to find out.”

(Your stomach drops, then.)

“Sure.” You take a few steps back towards him, and he spins on his heel, leading you to his car, and you walk in silence until you reach it. By the time you’re both safely in his car - his head turning every so often to check if there was anyone watching the pair of you - you’re shivering desperately, and you know you would have been positively miserable walking back to your dorm in these temperatures. “Thank you so much, Harry.”

“S’no problem, really.” His hand goes behind your seat as he turns to look behind him, and you hate the way the simple action makes you feel. “I’d rather know you get home safe than have you walk so far in the dark. Pretty girl like you, can never be too careful.”

You pause, cheek pressed against the cold window, and turn to look at him with a small smile. “Ooh, I’m a pretty girl now?”

“Wasn’t the point, Y/N,” Harry mutters, dropping his hand onto the center console, and if it were anyone else driving you like this, you’d rest your hand on top of his, intertwining your fingers and pressing your palms together. But he’s your professor, as much as you’re beginning to wish he weren’t, so you slide your hands beneath your thighs. “Which building, again?”

“McKinley,” you respond, voice barely louder than the sound of the heat blasting into his car. 

His car smells like eucalyptus and mint, and it’s surprisingly clean compared to his office - you wonder if his house is messy or clean, or a balanced mix, because you can’t quite catch a vibe for whether he’s organized or not. But, no - you’ll never see his house, surely. You can’t. 

“I used to date a girl who lived at McKinley,” he tells you, and you exhale slowly. You can tell he’s merely trying to make conversation but the sentiment isn’t making your internal conflicts any easier to manage. “Real nice dorms.”

“They’re alright.” In fact, you’ve been at university for 3 years and resided in 3 different dormitories and they’re your least favourite, with furniture that’s too big for rooms that are too small and bathrooms that can hardly fit more than 5 people, but you don’t tell him that. “Not the greatest.”

“S’what she told me, too,” Harry says, and you smile down at your lap, but you can’t find anything else to respond to that, so you take to gazing out the window.

Within a few seconds he’s slowing down, and you can recognize the back entrance to your building. You reach down and pick your bag off the ground, digging through it to find your key.

When you have it clutched in your hand, you unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to look at him - to your surprise his eyes are already on you, and you swallow thickly. “Um - thanks for driving me.”

“Don’t worry about it.” 

You hesitate a moment before turning and swinging open the car door. You hop out and, just before you can shut it, he says, “Y/N.” And when you duck your head back into his car, raising your eyebrows, he adds, “Please don’t tell anyone I drove you home. You’re right - s’not allowed.”

“Alright.” Then, before you can help yourself, you flash him a wide grin and say, “Thanks for letting me be the exception, then.”

With that, you shut the door of his car, bounding up to the door of your building, and you swear you can feel his gaze remaining on you before his car drives off, and when you turn back around, it’s gone.

(In the back of your mind, you’re entirely too aware of the fact that merely sitting in his car crossed some sort of line that you didn’t know existed until now, but you don’t really know how far past it you are - not yet.)

 --

 “I have a question.”

You look up from the rubric you’d been working at - the student whose essay you’re grading hadn’t done too well on it, but you were trying to give them the most points you could, anyway. Harry’s looking down at his essay like he hadn’t spoken, but when he feels your gaze on him, he continues. “Why did you care so much? Yesterday. Me grading more s’less work for you to do. I feel like you should be loving that shit.”

It’s a reasonable question but, for a moment, you struggle thinking of how to answer it without exposing yourself to him. Finally, you give him a grin and say, “Well, if you were sleep deprived, it would make you mean.” He chuckles softly, and you can tell that’s not the answer he wanted, and it couldn’t have been further from the truth. So you add, “I guess I’m used to being the mom friend. Making sure all of my friends get a good night’s sleep and whatever.”

Harry pauses. “So we’re friends, then.”

You shrug, trying to stop the smile from peeking through onto your face. Being friends with Harry sounds positively dreamy and if it could segue into something else - whichitcan’t - you’d be the happiest girl alive.

You nod. “Yeah, aren’t we.” But it isn’t a question, and you can see the way his eyes twinkle at your response.

After a moment, you shift in your entirely entirely entirely too bloody uncomfortable chair, the wood making your butt ache. “I have a question, now.”

“Yeah?”

“Why’d you pick the most uncomfortable chair you possibly could for your guests to sit in?”

“Gets ‘em out of my office quicker.” Harry glances up and meets your glare with a laugh. “But I don’t want you to leave, so you can move to the couch, if you’d like.”

You hop out of the chair without a second’s hesitation, clutching your essay and your pen, flopping down on the couch and feeling your body weight sink into it. God, it’s so soft and your body relaxes into it, the relief of not being confined to the small, wooden chair so magnificent you could scream. Harry watches you with an amused grin, and says, “I feel like you’re being just a bit dramatic here.”

“Me? Dramatic? Never.” You sprawl yourself across the couch, head atop of the armrest, staring up at the white ceiling tiles above you. “I’m telling you, Harry, that chair is terrible. You should burn it.”

“So dramatic.”

You roll your eyes, sitting up slightly so you can rest your paper on your lap and still manage to scrawl semi-legible notes on this person’s piss poor essay. You wonder, briefly, if this is how Harry felt when he’d graded your 1984 essay, but - well - doesn’t matter now. And you’d fail that essay a thousand times over to get to this point, a point of companionship with your professor that you’re not sure any other student has felt with him before. At least, none that he’s told you about. It makes you feel special, and spectacular, and also the tiniest bit confused.

Why are you so special?

Maybe he’s lonely, or he’s merely entertaining your presence because you’re helping him grade, but you swear you can feel something more hidden within the lines of your relationship.

It doesn’t really matter, though, even if it is just a tad confusing.

“You should get going,” Harry tells you after another 15 minutes of you working at grading the essay. “You’ve been here for nearly two hours, bloody hell, wasn’t watching the time at all.”

“I don’t mind,” you say, though, in truth, you do have quite a bit of homework to work on later. “Don’t really have anything else to do.”

You sit up anyway, swinging your legs over the edge of the couch and stretching your arms above your head. Tiredness is beginning to affect you but you try not to let it.

“Well, in any case, you should be heading out now.” Harry nods his head towards the window behind him, the blinds pulled up so you can see the sun, nearly completely sunk below the horizon, the sky fading from reds and oranges to a dark shade of blue.

“What about you, professor?”

“What about me?” “You’re going home now too - right?”

He looks at you with a faux annoyed glare, but he can’t help the amusement from seeping through his features, and finally he breaks your stare with an exhale of breath. “I don’t think I’ll ever win this against you, will I?”

And you shake your head in response. “Never. So let’s go. Get your things.”

You take the next five minutes to gather all your stuff - resting the essay on top of his desk, sliding your phone and water bottle into your backpack, and zipping your bag shut - as Harry grabs his computer bag and his key. The two of you move surprisingly in sync with each other, sorting all of your stuff from around his small office, before making your way outside with him locking the door behind him.

It’s nearly completely dark, even colder than it had been the day prior. You reach behind you and pull the hood of your sweatshirt over your hair, protecting your ears, at least, from the chill.

You turn and face him, giving him a wide smile. The air is silent around you, surprisingly empty though the bitterness of the cold must be a contributing factor to that. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Professor. Make sure you get a good night’s rest -”

“Don’t want a ride?”

Your grin widens, and his eyes sparkle, even in the darkness, at your expression. “Well, of course I do, but it’s rude to invite myself into your car.”

“You’re not inviting yourself - I’m inviting you. Or, rather, demanding you. C’mon.”

Harry walks fast and you have to speed up your pace to keep up with him, though you suspect that has something to do with wanting to be free of any wandering eyes as quickly as possible. You recognize his car in the parking lot and bound ahead of him, standing by the passenger side door and wrapping your arms around yourself to try and warm yourself up, and for a moment his pace slows as he stares and looks at you. Standing by his car, holding an incredibly oversized hoodie tight to your body, a wide smile gracing your face.

“Staring is rude, professor,” you inform him as he shakes his head, unlocking his car and climbing into the driver’s seat. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that?”

Your lilt is teasing but you can tell it makes him slightly defensive either way.

“S’hard not to sometimes,” Harry tells you, and you giggle softly.

“So first, I’m a pretty girl, and now I’m hard not to stare at?” You drop your head back against the headrest, blowing air softly out of your mouth as you reach to buckle your seatbelt. “Keep this up, Harry, and my ego’s gonna be too big to even fit in your car.”

Harry laughs at that, resting his hand on your seat to back out of his parking spot. The radio softly plays some pop song that had been overtaking the charts recently, and you hum softly to it before turning your head to look at him. You examine his side profile - perfect, like every other angle of him - as he pulls out of the parking lot, making a left out of it.

He turns to see you watching him, and you watch redness bloom over his cheeks. “Staring is rude, Y/N.”

You smile, about to parrot his previous words back at him - it’s hard not to - but you bite your tongue, gazing at the road in front of you. A light drizzle is beginning to fall, a barely audible pitterpatter on the windshield, and that’s the only noise, for a moment - that and the radio playing, like a thought in the back of your mind.

The drive to your dorm seems to be taking longer than it had been yesterday and you can’t imagine why, but you appreciate just sitting in the car with him. Even if you’re not saying much, listening to his even breathing calms you.

You want to break the silence, though it’s comfortable rather than awkward. You like talking to him, like hearing everything he has to say, but you have no idea what you can possibly tell him that wouldn’t seem forced and awkward. So you sit, curling your legs up to your chest as you stare at the streets, and entirely too soon, the back of the McKinley building becomes apparent.

You want to stay in his car forever. Want to stay with him forever.

“Thanks for the ride,” you tell him, your voice sounding uncomfortably loud in the soft car. He nods in response, but for a moment neither of you move. You can’t bring yourself to leave yet, even if you know you have to, that he might have someone waiting for him at home.

“Y/N.” You turn and look at him, your eyes meeting his with your brows furrowed. “Uh - if you ever want a ride home, or to class, you can just let me know. Text me.”

“I don’t have your number.”

Harry’s cheeks are bright pink and there’s too much tension in the car, so thick you feel like you could cut it with a knife, and you lean down, unzipping your bag and pulling your phone out.

He takes it from you once you unlock it, going into your contacts and you watch as he types his phone number in, adding the contact name as Harry S. and you think you’ll be changing that later. He leaves the contact photo blank, which you expected - if anyone saw the name Harry S. in your phone, the contact photo would give it away.

He hands your phone back to you when he’s done, and your fingers graze his when you take it. “Just text me, then. If you need a ride.”

“Alright.” you give him a smile, unbuckling your seatbelt and pushing open the car door. “Thank you, Harry. Really.”

“My pleasure,” he says, and you grab your bag, hooking your arm underneath the strap and racing up to the back entrance of your building. It’s only when you get inside, the door firmly shut behind you, that you turn around again, and his car is gone.

 --

 10:52 PM

Y/N: hey professor...it’s y/n. just wanna make sure u have my number saved in case of emergencies

Harry S.: How is it you can have the highest grade of any student in my class and use improper grammar while texting?

Y/N: it’s a talent i guess

Y/N: texting like you’re writing an essay makes ppl v uncomfortable, and i speak from personal experience

Harry S.: So you’re uncomfortable right now, then?

Y/N: nooo, ur different

Harry S.: To quote this girl I know, ‘thanks for letting me be the exception, then.’

Y/N: how did u remember that? that makes me uncomfortable

Harry S.: Haha.

Harry S.: You should be sleeping right now. Students need their full 8 hours, don’t they?

Y/N: so do professors, as i keep telling u, but…

Y/N: i had hw to do, also had to make mac n cheese for dinner

Harry S.: You can do your homework in my office, you know. And then you can probably make it to the refectory for dinner.

Y/N: the food at the refectory sucks

Harry S.: Yeah, you’re right.

Harry S.: But I do feel bad that staying to help me grade made you have to stay up until 11 doing homework.

Y/N: well honestly i’d rather be sitting in ur office talking to u than in my dorm doing american lit work

Harry S.: Why’s that?

Y/N: ig i like hanging out with u

Y/N: u should feel honored btw

Harry S.: Believe me, I do. And now you should get to bed so you’re not grumpy tomorrow morning.

Y/N: ig i deserved that… and i’ll only go to bed if u do too

Harry S.: I will.

Y/N: promise??

Harry S.: I promise.

Harry S.: Goodnight.

Y/N: goodnight, professor

 --

 After a week, your arrangement has changed slightly.

Every day, you spend just a bit more time in his office. Then he drives you home, in comfortable silence, and from the minute you step into your dorm, you’re fishing your phone out of your bag to text him. Every night that you lie awake, texting him until you physically can’t keep your eyes open, the line that you’ve been dipping your toe across falls back even more.

The stack of assignments that need to be graded are beginning to dwindle, and you hate it. Hate to see the pile of ungraded work getting smaller and smaller, because when it’s gone, you probably won’t step foot in his office again.

Truthfully, and as embarrassing as it may be, Harry has become one of your closest friends at school. He’s funny and nice, and he brought you hot chocolate with powder left unmixed at the bottom after you mentioned that’s how you used to like it when you were younger, and he plays music on his phone at a low volume while you work on grading. 

Of course, as your friendship with Harry grows, so does the burning feelings for him that reside in the pit of your stomach day after day. And you know he doesn’t feel the same - he can’t - and maybe that’s painful for you, only slightly, but you’ve become rather talented at hiding those emotions. He can’t know that, everytime he laughs at one of your jokes, your heart swells - and everytime he reads a sentence from one of the essays out loud, using a mocking, deep voice, it makes your stomach flip.

You don’t know if you’ve ever felt so passionately about anyone, and that’s scary. Scary to think that the one man you want more than anyone else is the only person you can’t have.

“Y/N,” he says, and when you look up at him from your spot sprawled on the couch, he’s nibbling at the tip of his pen. “D’you think this makes sense?”

And he reads you a few lines written by one of his students - a name you recognize from being in your class, you think, but you’ve been paying attention less and less to other students during lectures. All you focus on is Harry, his booming voice projecting through the hall as he talks about the stories you’re reading, and every so often his eyes meet yours and the smile that spreads across his face could bring tears to your eyes, if you let it.

“Um - I guess. It’s worded kind of strangely, don’t you think? But I’d cut them some slack on it.” Harry nods and scribbles something in the margins of Nathalie Carron’s essay before flipping the page. “Can I put in a song request?”

He nods, then, picking up his phone from where it sits on his desk. The Chain plays softly, not too loud to interrupt your train of thought, but not too soft that you can’t hear it. “‘Course.”

“Heroes by David Bowie.” You glance back up at him, dropping Hannah Joseph’s essay on your stomach. “You like Bowie, right?”

“Who doesn’t, is the real question.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” You grin, glancing up at the white tiled ceiling as the song fills the hair, replacing Fleetwood. “You know, we should make a playlist for grading.”

Harry laughs. “A playlist of just Fleetwood and a dash of Bowie?”

“No, no. It can have other stuff, too. I mean, we know what we like.”

“Alright, alright.” He picks up his phone again, and you see his thumbs moving feverishly on the screen. “Y’know what, I’ll make it right now and show it to you for approval.”

“Make it good.” You pause, picking your essay up again. “No Justin Bieber.”

He snorts, and you relish in the noise.

The next ten minutes passes in mainly silence - when Heroes ends, Fleetwood continues, playing Secondhand News, and you hum to the tune. Harry’s ringer is on and you can hear it, the sound of the keyboard on his phone as he searches up song titles, and you rest the essay back on your stomach, writing messy notes with the pen you snatched from the mug on his desk again.

You sit up, suddenly, leaning over to rest Hannah’s fully graded essay on his desk, and instead of reaching for a new one to work on, you push yourself to your knees, resting your palms on his desk and attempting to lean over and peek at the playlist. But he anticipates that - he knows you’re nosy - and tilts his phone towards him, intercepting your attempts to eavesdrop.

“Don’t be impatient,” he murmurs, a smile tugging across his lips as he scrolls through something. “I’m almost done.”

You hum in response, dropping back down onto the couch, stretching your entire body across it, head resting on the armrest. The two of you settle back into a comfortable silence - he’s paused the music, by now - lasting only a moment or two before he stands up from his insanely comfortable chair, maneuvering his way around to the couch where you’re lying. He crouches down next to you, handing you his phone, opened to a Spotify playlist, and you greedily snatch the device from him, flicking through the songs.

Your eyes scan every song, absorbing every song title.

I Walk The Line by Johnny Cash - My Eyes Adored You by the Four Seasons - Your Song by Elton John?

Love songs. Every single one of them.

You push yourself up, sitting leaning against the armrest, as your eyes fall on the last song of the playlist - When I Kissed The Teacher by Abba. You lower his phone to your lap, looking at him with a slightly confused smile adorning your face.

He watches you intently, your heads a mere few inches apart, then reaches down to grab his phone off your lap, and you laugh lightly before saying, “it’s a lot of love songs.”

“They reminded me of you,” he tells you, voice quiet, testing the waters.

“They - they did?” It doesn’t make sense to you - doesn’t make sense that 45 love songs should bring you to the forefront of his mind, that every single time he hears Fooled Around And Fell In Love he should think of you. 

They make you think of him, though. 

And without thinking - of what you’re doing or of the consequences - you lean in, closing the short distance between your faces, pressing your lips against his so softly that it feels like it’s a mere breath on your mouth.

Harry pulls back, lips barely a centimeter from yours, exhaling softly. “We shouldn’t.”

You hum in agreement, already leaning back in. “No, we really shouldn’t.”

Your lips meet again and his hand goes to your face, cupping your jaw, and when he deepens the kiss you whimper into his mouth, bringing both of your hands to the back of his head. Your fingers bury themselves in his curls, tugging on the chocolate brown strands, and he groans softly into your mouth.

It’s everything you’d imagined and more, as the hand not on your cheek drops down to your waist, pulling your body closer to his. The angle is awkward - you sitting on the couch and him kneeling before it - so you unattach your lips, much to your dismay, and swing your legs around the edge of the couch so he’s situated between them. Harry’s eyes are wide, his hair mussed up, and you lean back in without a moment’s hesitation to resume the kiss. His tongue brushes against yours, and he tastes like mint tea and fucking heaven.

Both of his hands go down to your waist, tugging you to the very edge of the couch so your bodies are as close as they can be, and yours go to the back of his neck, dipping underneath the collar of his button down shirt to scratch at his back. It feels muscular, more toned than you were expecting, and feeling the skin underneath your nails makes you moan into his mouth.

“Fuck -” you groan softly as he moves his lips down your chin and to your jaw, nibbling softly at your skin, as if experimenting to see what you like - your reaction prompts him to move further down, licking a stripe down your neck and to the base of your collarbone. One of his hands - very large hands - slide up to cup one of your breasts, squeezing the mound of flesh through your tight shirt. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Harry hums against your collarbone, pressing open mouthed kisses across your skin. Your nails dragging down his back causes him to bite down gently to stifle the moan rising from his throat, but you hear it and Goditspursyouonsofuckingmuch. “God, Y/N -”

His praise is cut short by the sound of three swift knocks on the door - he pulls back from you, nearly falling back on his ass with the speed at which he stands, and your eyes flash to the door. Your heart is pounding desperately in your chest - are the doors soundproof? Did someone outside hear you? The thought makes you sick to your stomach, and your eyes meet Harry’s to find the same worry in his orbs.

Within moments he’s back behind his desk, running a hand through his hair to try and smooth it out, and you’ve reached to grab Hannah Joseph’s essay off his desk just as he calls, “come in!” in a voice that’s far too cheery for the panic that had just overtaken the both of you.

The door opens and from the corner of your eye you can recognize the girl who walks in - she lives across the hall from you, and her name is … Anna or Emma or something similar. She’s nice, and you should remember her name, but your brain is so scrambled that you can’t think of it.

Harry kissing you. Harry making you a playlist. Harry’s hands on your waist, pulling your body into his.

It’s everything you’ve dreamt of since the beginning of the semester, feeling his touch on you. And when you close your eyes, you try to imagine what would have happened if nobody knocked on the door, and it sends a shiver down your spine that doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry, sitting at his desk as he looks over Anna-or-Emma’s essay.

You can’t be here. You shouldn’t be here. The girl (who, now that you think of it, may be named Alana) is asking Harry a million bogus questions about the essay requirements he’d just given out and her shirt is so low cut that you’re surprised her boobs haven’t fallen out. Whether that was intentional or not isn’t something you dwell on, but something about sitting on the couch, trying to steady your breathing while your clit throbs violently feels wrong.

“I’m gonna go, professor,” you say, interrupting her question, and she looks at you like you just told her you’re going to give her a million dollars. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Y/N,” Harry calls as you grab your bag and shut the door behind you. His voice sounds pained, almost, as though he doesn’t want you to leave him alone with a girl whose only goal is clearly to fuck his brains out. You practically run down the hall, which isn’t close to being as empty as it usually is when you and Harry leave at the end of the day. 

Your shirt is tight and short sleeved and you can picture your jacket, up in his office, thrown over the back of the couch. You’d been in such a rush to leave that you’d left it, and you’re beginning to truly feel the consequences of it as the cold corners you, attacking your skin, and you could go back up to his office and get it but you just want to go home. The sun is setting, and it’s earlier than when you usually leave.

The walk home is decidedly miserable, the wind sending tears streaking down your cheeks, and your mind is practically going into overdrive. Jesus Christ. You kissed your professor, and he kissed you back. And then you left, like a fucking idiot. He probably feels terrible - feels like he violated you, or ruined his career. But he hadn’t done anything wrong, not really. If you were more respectable you’d go back to his building and apologize for running out, wrap your arms around him and kiss him like you fucking mean it, but all you do is scan your card to get into McKinley and walk down the hall to your dorm.

Your roommate is out - at her boyfriend’s, as per usual, but you appreciate it. Truth be told, you haven’t seen her much since the first few weeks of the semester, but she seemed nice enough. You drop your bag onto your bed and collapse on top of the covers, gazing up at the ceiling.

You bring your hand up to your mouth, brushing your fingertips over your lips with the same feather light touch that the first press of Harry’s lips to yours had felt like. You can still feel it - feel him - if you close your eyes, his hands grasping your hips and his lips trailing down your collarbone.

Slowly, you press your palm to your stomach, trailing it down your torso until you reach the button of your jeans. You undo it with shaky fingers and push them lower down, beneath the hem of your cotton thong, and the first brush of your fingertips against your clit sends a shiver down your spine and a whine falling off your lips.

Harry’s hand on your chest, squeezing your breast through your shirt as he kisses down your neck - oh my god, licking down your neck, biting your skin, his eyes are so wide, his hair is messy from where you grabbed it, and you hadn’t been interrupted he would’ve climbed on top of you, pressing you into the couch, tugging your jeans down your thighs and -

Maybe he would’ve done what you’re doing now, sliding his digits into your heat, fingers longer than yours, hitting every spot that you need him to. Or maybe he would’ve slid down your body, lifting your shirt to suck a deep purple mark into your chest, before burying his face in your cunt -

A very loud moan falls from your lips as you push a finger inside of yourself, curling them immediately to hit the spot inside of you that makes your tummy flip.

But maybe - just maybe - Harry wouldn’t have bothered with that. Would’ve watched, breathing so heavy as you unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his nice dress pants to wrap your hand around his cock, throwing his head back and moaning as you swiped your thumb over the tip of him.

You’re so close so fast you can practically taste the orgasm creeping up on you, your hips bucking up to meet where your fingers are feverishly rubbing circles on your clit.

And he would’ve slid into you, and he’s so big that he’s stretching you out more than any of your fingers or the guy you’ve been with, and he’d grab your chin and force your head up and kiss you so fucking hard, his hips flush against yours -

With a strangled cry, you curl your fingers once more and then you’re cumming, release coating your fingers as your hips roll into your hand. All you can think about is him and what could have happened, and the fact that you may have ruined the start of something magnificent, but God if the orgasm wasn’t good.

You pull your hand out of your panties, wiping your dripping fingers on the denim of your jeans. For a moment, you merely stare back up at the ceiling, focusing on steadying your breathing, and then you stand up, kicking your jeans off your legs and tossing them onto your dresser. You have a pair of plaid pajama pants crumbled in a pile at the bottom of your bed from the morning, and you pull them over your legs with a sigh. Perhaps it’s not the height of cleanliness, but they’re soft and comfortable, and you lie back down on your bed once they’re on.

After nearly an hour, you still haven’t done anything but sit and do nothing, occasionally flicking through your phone. You wish you could fall asleep but your brain is working far too fast to even think about resting, and -

The sound of your phone getting a notification startles you, and you groan, grabbing your phone to look at whoever disturbed your panic.

Harry S.: I’m behind your building. I have your jacket.

He’s here? Jesus Christ, you just came over him and damn near cried over him and now you have to see him.

Perfect.

Your heart skips a beat, and you jump up without a second thought. You look an absolute fool, stuffing your feet into the first pair of shoes you can find - a pair of slip on Vans that are so dirty they can barely constitute as white - before you’re running out the door, your phone tucked in the waistband of your pants, heading down the hall and out the back entrance where Harry’s black car sits, waiting.

You walk up to his car, pathetically out of breath, and lower your head so you can see him through the window as he rolls it down.

“Hi.” Your tone is quiet, and you clear your throat. “Um, I’m sorry about running off like that. I just got overwhelmed and that girl showing up made me - um - nervous.”

“It’s fine,” Harry says, though he’s very pointedly not making eye contact. “M’sorry if I crossed a line. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that, or -”

“No, I kissed you first -”

“But I’m your professor.” He says the word with an odd inflection, nearly pained. “I shouldn’t have let it escalate. I’m sorry.”

You dig the toe of your shoe into the road, looking down at the passenger seat where your jacket sits, waiting. The tension is palpable and you swallow thickly, then grab the car handle, forcing the door open so you can grab your jacket. You wrap the fabric around your shoulders - the seat heaters made it warm and you could nearly cry at the way it embraces you.

Harry watches you - you can see him from the corner of your eye - and then he looks down at your body, your shirt and your pajama pants with no pockets, and asks, “D’you have your key to go back in your dorm? S’just, you don’t have any pockets … I can’t see it.”

Shit. No, you don’t. You hadn’t thought about that when you were running out to see him. Perhaps he can decide the answer from the way your face drops, because he exhales with a small smile, barely perceptible, and nods his head. “Get in.”

You grab the door handle again, pulling the door open and climbing inside. The seat is toasty and warm and the car is toasty and warm and altogether you feel like both of those adjectives combined. The radio plays softly - or maybe it’s his phone, hooked up to the aux cord, because Maybe I’m Amazed by Paul McCartney is a song you recognize reading on the playlist he’d made.  You slam the door shut and wrap your arms around yourself, holding your jacket closer to your body, before turning your head to glance at him. He still hasn’t started driving, merely gazing at you, and you feel your skin heat under his eyes. “Where are we going, professor?” It’s a stupid question, because you aren’t going anywhere yet, and he doesn’t look like he plans to start driving anytime soon.

“I’ll take you back to my apartment.” HIs eyes haven’t left yours, and your stomach turns. “How does that sound?”

You exhale softly. “Sounds perfect,” and then you’re leaning in, pressing your cold palms to the side of his cheeks and bringing his face into yours.

Your lips meet and it’s more desperate than it was in his office - teeth clashing and your tongues brushing against each other, as if he’s trying to devour you. His hand rests atop of yours, dwarfing you pathetically, before dragging his fingertips down your arm and up to your shoulder, fingers dipping beneath the sleeve of your shirt.

Where you’re cold from the air outside, Harry is so warm and toasty, his breath hot against your face when you pull away briefly. He presses his forehead to yours and then leans up, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose and smirking at the whimper you let out.

“Wait,” he tells you, voice low and quiet, and you nod slowly. “When we get to my apartment - but not now.”

You nod feverishly and sit back in your seat obediently, desperate for him to finally start driving. His hand rests on top of the center console and you stare at it for a moment - you can do it, do what you’ve wanted to do every single time he’s driven you home - and you place your palm overtop of his. He turns it over so your palms are pressed together, fingers intertwining, and you’re sure he can hear your heartbeat with how loudly it’s beating in your chest.

The line that you’ve crossed is so far behind you that it’s a mere dot in the distance. 

The car ride to his apartment is short - only 2 full songs play during it, and you recognize My Girl and I Just Died In Your Arms Tonight from the playlist. Truth be told, it feels as though you’d been in the car for hours and hours, his thumb rubbing circles into the back of your hand. You want nothing more than to crawl across the center console and straddle him, kiss him until you’re both breathless and go as far as you’d fantasized about but you have to wait.

 --

 Harry’s unlocking the door of his apartment entirely too slow for your liking. It’s as though he’s trying to tease you, make you antsy, when all you want is for him to press you against the wall and kiss you silly. 

He lives in a large brick apartment building - one of the newer ones, you know - in an apartment on the third floor. You’ve passed his building so many times driving through town and you never even knew it - didn’t know the man who lived there was someone you’d be so desperate for.

“Come on,” he whispers, though there’s no real reason for the two of you to be quiet - perhaps it just fits the mood. Harry’s hand wraps around your wrist as he tugs you into the now-open door of his apartment, flicking on the light switch residing beside the door. 

As light floods the apartment you’re somehow both surprised and also not at all. It’s surprisingly tidy, resembling more of his car than his office, and - to your relief - it’s quite obvious he’s the only one who lives here. You slip out of your Vans and take a moment to look around. A cat sits on top of the couch (her name is Marie, named after Aristocats, you learned from class) and you can’t stop yourself from gravitating towards her, using two fingers to stroke down her back as you peek around the apartment.

Yes, it is quite clean, and surprisingly colorful - there’s a striped rug and red couches and your eyes fly a bookshelf filled with picture frames against the wall. One is him with four other guys, arms wrapped around each other - one of him and Marie - one of him, significantly younger, hugging a girl who looks extremely similar to him.

“Is this your sister?” you ask, unaware of where he is in the apartment but trusting he hasn’t strayed too far from you.

“Yeah,” he responds, and you jump slightly. Harry stands just behind you, and when you turn to face him he’s fighting back a grin. “So nosy, aren’t you?”

You raise your arms to wrap around his neck, pulling his head down to yours as his hands gravitate down towards your lower back where your shirt rises just a couple inches from your pants, exposing a strip of skin, and his touch sends a shiver down your spine. “I guess I am nosy. Can’t help it.”

Harry leans down, then, pressing a kiss to your forehead and down the bridge of your nose before landing on your lips - you whine into his mouth, pushing yourself onto your toes to try and deepen it, swiping your tongue into his mouth. It’s so different than before - heavier, deeper, and you can’t get enough of it.

“Please,” you whimper against his lips as his hands creep farther down your back, landing on the globes of your ass through your soft pajama pants. “I need you.”

“Oh, yeah?” You can hear a sense of cockiness working its way into his voice and you groan softly as he pulls away from you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “What do you need, baby? Tell me.”

You need everything. You need everything he can possibly give you and more - you need wish fulfillment of everything you’ve dreamt of since the start of the semester and that includes every single goddamn appendage on his body put to use somehow.

But you can’t possibly begin to tell him that, not yet. His fingers are already trailing down to the waistband of your pants, tugging at the tie that holds them up when you breathe, “Your mouth. Please, I need - I need your mouth.”

It’s not enough for him, you can tell, as he leans down to press a kiss to the side of your throat, sucking softly. “M’using my mouth.”

“H - Harry …”

“Where d’you want my mouth?”

You curse beneath your breath, and he pulls his head back to raise his eyebrows at the sound. You bury your hand in his hair, tugging lightly on his curls, before squeezing your eyes shut and muttering, “Want your mouth … down there.”

As much as you want it - and Godyouwantitsofuckingmuch - it makes it no less awkward to say it out loud.

“Down where, baby?” Harry asks, voice teasing and so fucking smug. “Down here?” His hand sprawls across your stomach, pressing down on your abdomen and you moan softly. “No … down here, s’that right?”

His hand slides down to your cunt, pressing his palm overtop of you through your pajama pants and you’re so wet you’re sure he can feel it even through two layers of fabric. Your throaty cry in response and the feverish nod of your head confirms what he’d been teasing you about, and Harry delivers one last soft kiss to your lips before dropping to his knees before you.

Fuck. You never thought you’d see Professor Harry Styles, the man of your dreams and the one person you considered to be entirely unattainable, kneeling in front of you with his nice dress pants on and a crisp button up shirt. He looks entirely normal, save for his messy hair and lust blown pupils, and you’re sure you look a bloody mess but his eyes still devour you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

You drop your shaky hands down to the tie of your pants, undoing it at record speed, and he hooks his fingers in your waistband. Slowly - so slowly - Harry tugs them down and his eyes remain on you as though expecting you to stop him, but you can’t. Finally they pool by your feet and you lift your legs to kick them off, sending them flying near the couch where Marie resides.

Had you known this would be happening perhaps you would have opted for racier panties - your cotton thong isn’t terrible but it certainly isn’t doing you any favours, and you have so many lace ones at home that would have been perfect for the opportunity - but Harry still looks at you like you created the world. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh and then the other, leaning in to suck a dark purple hickey into your skin.

You suppose he has a thing for hickeys.

Your fingers twist in his curls, trying to direct his head up to where you truly need him, and he chuckles softly - the soft exhalation of air makes you whine as it hits your cunt, even through your panties. A soft kiss is what he lands on your clothed clit, and your hips buck up into his mouth. You’d forgotten, perhaps, that you’d had an orgasm less than an hour prior but you’re very swiftly reminded, and he looks up at you with a smirk.

“So reactive,” he murmurs, wrapping his lips around your clit through your underwear and sucking softly. “Just the way I like.”

A shaky breath escapes your mouth as you toss your head back, legs shaking and you can’t expect them to hold you up much longer. One of his hands moves to the back of your thigh, kneading your skin softly, and the other dips into the hem of your panties and slowly tugs them down. You’re so wet that the fabric is desperate to stick to your dripping cunt but he manages to roll them down your legs, face to face with your pussy and -

Heat floods through your body and up to your face as you look down and make eye contact with Harry. Now that he’s down there, gazing at your bare pussy, you feel oddly compelled to protect whatever modesty you have left and shut your legs but then he grabs one of your legs and throws it over his shoulder, pushing you back just a bit until your back smacks into the wall, and leans in.

The first stripe he licks up your core sends a choked cry from the back of your throat and then a long whine as Harry focuses his attention on your clit. His tongue flicks the swollen bud, still rubbing circles into the back of your thigh. Your heel digs into his back as he moves one hand up to your cunt, running his finger through your soaked folds before pushing it inside of you.

He curls his finger, mimicking a come hither motion until he brushes against the spot that makes your hips jerk against his face. Harry’s lips wrap around your clit and when your eyes roll back into your head, he takes his hand off your thigh and snaps his fingers.

“Look at me,” he demands, voice muffled against your cunt, and the vibrations roll through your body like an earthquake. “I wanna watch you fall apart. Look at me.”

Slowly you lower your eyes back down to him, meeting his gaze as he pulls his mouth away briefly - smacks his lips - and pushes a second finger into your dripping heat. As he thrusts them in and out, hitting that sweet spot in your velvet walls, you can feel your orgasm building in the pit of your tummy embarrassingly fast, but you want to hold out for him. Want to prolong this as long as you can.

Harry’s teeth brush against your clit and you cry out, barely hearing the way he groans, “So fucking reactive for me, yeah?” but you can hear it and it only makes you moan louder. His tongue draws patterns over your clit and he’s so determined to maintain eye contact but you can tell it’s a struggle for both of you.

He pulls his fingers out of you, licking a thin stripe up one of them as if he can’t get enough of your taste before reaching his arm up so his fingers rest on your bottom lip. Obediently you open your mouth, accepting his digits and swirling your tongue around them, tasting yourself on his skin, as he leans back, glancing up at you with heat blazing in his eyes.

“You’re close,” he tells you, his voice deep and throaty. “Can feel it - feel how you’re clenching around my fingers, baby. D’you wanna cum? Tell me how fucking bad you want it.”

Harry pulls his fingers from your mouth and presses them to your clit, rubbing a slow circle as you struggle to find your voice before gasping, “Fuck - need to cum so fucking bad Harry - Harry, oh my god -”

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me?”

“Yes! Oh my god, H - Harry -”

“Cum for me, baby.”

He leans in, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking and that’s all you need to topple over the edge, the orgasm that had been building in the pit of your tummy finally exploding. Your head falls back against the wall with a thud that’s hardly audible over your loud shrieks and moans, your leg finally giving out and you damn near slide to the ground before Harry hooks an arm around your thigh to keep you upright.

His tongue flicks at your clit gently, riding you through your orgasm, and when you’re coming down from your high it’s all you can focus on. There’s a high pitched ringing in your ears and you don’t think you’ve ever - ever - cum that hard in your life. You’d only been with one guy before who didn’t even know women could orgasm and your fingers never gave you anything so earth shattering.

Your breathing comes out in desperate pants as Harry rises from his knees, moving both hands to your hips as your legs nearly collapse again. Your clit is throbbing and when you press your body to his, leaning up to kiss him so desperately, you can feel his boner, hard against your thigh.

“Holy shit, professor.” It’s all you can manage, pulling away to drop your head against his chest, using the moment to try and steady your breaths. “W - who knew you were so good at that.”

His fingers brush through the ends of your hair, a gesture so sweet and innocent that it could make you forget what just occurred. “A hidden talent, I guess,” he mutters, gripping your chin to kiss you again.

You drop your hands to his waist, gripping his nice button down shirt in your tight grasp, surely wrinkling the fabric as you roll your hips against his. Even through his pants his hard on feels fucking huge and you’ve only been with one guy before and suddenly you’re wondering if he’ll even fit inside of you.

But you’ll try. By god, you’ll try. And you press your head to the wall, looking up at him with lust dilated pupils. “Harry.”

“Tell me what you need, baby.” But he already knows, and you can tell he needs the same thing.

You swallow, bucking your hips forward against his boner, and he groans. “I want you to fuck me. Please. I - I need you to fuck me, professor.”

The word makes him moan aloud, and within barely a second he’s grabbing your wrist, tugging you away from the wall and across the apartment until he’s swinging open a door and pulling you inside.

Something about being in his bedroom is entirely different than being in his living room, the carpet beneath your bare feet plush and soft. There’s a large television in front of his bed and the bed is made beautifully, a flannel blanket tossed over the end, and you can’t fucking wait to mess it up.

Harry spins you around to face him, attaching your lips once more as he shuts the door. You whimper into his mouth as his hand drops down to your bare bum, squeezing the flesh in his large palm. “Sorry,” you murmur, voice high pitched and breathy, “was nosing again -”

He groans as you drop your hand to the front of his fancy dress pants, trying desperately to undo the button with one shaking hand. It’s a struggle and finally he chuckles breathlessly, dropping both hands down to help you with the task, and finally you reach your hand into his trousers and press your palm against his cock, hot and heavy even through his boxers.

“Bed,” he grunts, backing you up until the back of your knees hit a hard edge and you fall backwards onto his plush duvet. He stands above you, breathing heavily, and for a moment you stare at each other, as though processing that this is happening - and the moment picks up again. Harry reaches down and tugs at the bottom hem of your shirt, pulling it up and off your body and sending it into the corner of the room. Your bra is lace, at least, and decidedly prettier than your panties, and for a moment he stares down at your chest with a look of pure lust adorning his face.

“You look a bit flushed, professor,” you tell him, voice faux innocent and sounding entirely more confident than you feel. “Are you feeling okay?”

Harry chuckles through gritted teeth, and you push yourself onto your elbows so you can work at the buttons of his shirt as he tugs his pants down his legs. “I’ve never been better, in fact.” His boxers are flannel and you can see the bulge in his boxers, and it’s even bigger than what you’d expected.

Your work at undoing his buttons slows down as your mind suddenly flips into overdrive - you must wear the worry that suddenly overtakes you because Harry leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“When’s the last time you’ve done this?” he questions, voice soft and spun sugar sweet.

“Um -” you try and think. The last time you’d done this you’d lost your virginity and that was - “A year ago. Maybe longer.”

Harry nods, nudging your nose with his and giving you one final kiss before rising back up. His hands replace yours as he works on unbuttoning his shirt. “I’m going to go slow, baby. I promise.”

In every fantasy you’ve had about him, he’s not slow - he’s fast, pounding you so hard the bed is nearly louder than the noises you make - but now that you’re here with him? Maybe you need slow.

You nod, and he smiles down at you. He presses his hands onto the mattress and then snakes them beneath you, fingers working at the clasp of your bra, and you lift yourself up slightly so he can undo it and slide your last piece of clothing off of you. He sends it into another part of the room and you can’t be bothered to focus on it because - Christ! - all of a sudden Harry lowers his mouth to your breast, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples and sucking.

“Fuck!” you gasp, fingers working themselves into his curls. Your fingernails scratch at his scalp and he moans lowly against your skin. Harry lifts his head off of you, pinching one of your nipples so you cry out.

He lifts one leg to rest on the bed and then grips your hips, pulling you closer to the edge. Your legs instinctively spread and he watches you, breathing heavily. “Baby,” he mutters, hands slipping his boxers down his thighs. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

Heat burns your cheeks and you shut your eyes.

“Look at me,” Harry tells you, and it’s all you can do to obey. “Want you looking at me while I fuck you. Can you do that?”

You nod, swallowing as he grips one of your calves and hikes it onto the bed, exposing your sensitive, dripping cunt to him. You look down your body, where he’s grasping his achingly fucking hard cock in his hand, and then he drags the tip down your slit with a low hiss.

“Are you ready, baby?” he asks, voice soft and strained, as if he’s holding back and you know he is. But he needs this to be a good experience for you so it can be good for him and that’s what you appreciate.

“Y - yeah.” you push yourself onto your elbows and your eyes meet, maintaining perfect eye contact as he pushes himself inside of you. He’s going achingly slow and -

The stretch aches and you drop your head onto the mattress with a groan, Harry’s hand immediately finding your hand where you’re grasping the duvet feverishly. He bottoms out, fully sheathed in your warm cunt, a low groan piercing the air at the feeling of your walls, tight around him. It hurts - not as much as you’d expected, and the pain that quite literally fills you overtakes the burn.

You squeeze his hand, feeling his other run up and down the inside of your thigh as you adjust to him. “Oh - my god - wait - just - just one second wait one second -”

“Of course,” he breathes, and his voice is shaky with an emotion you can’t quite decipher. “T - take your time, babygirl.”

After a few seconds you push your head up to look at him, nodding slightly. “Okay. I need more, p - professor.”

You can tell he likes when you call him that and in some weird way you love it too - love knowing that the professor everyone lusts for is fucking you, slowly pulling out before thrusting back in, squeezing your hand when you cry out at the feeling. Maybe you’re not the first student to experience him like this but based on his demeanor you think you are - there’s something about him in this moment that feels like a secret you’ve discovered.

“Oh - fuck -” Harry grunts as he moves his hand from your thigh to your hip, pressing your body down with just enough force to limit your movements. It’s paining him, going so slow, you can tell - and you’re already starting to need more from him. You need him to go faster, and with a breathy moan you tell him.

Slowly his pace picks up, his grip on your hip tightening until you’re sure there’ll be fingerprint shaped bruises on your skin by tomorrow morning. With every thrust he fills you up so completely that every perfect spot inside of you is hit just right, and you never knew it could feel this good.

Every noise of his that tears through the bedroom spurs you on, pushing your hips into his to deepen every thrust. And every time you whine or whimper or cry or anything Harry delivers a harder thrust, fucking you so deep that you can feel it in the pit of your tummy.

“God, p - professor,” you moan, the word falling entirely too naturally off your lips even in your heightened state. Harry throws his head back with a high pitched whine, speeding up his pace until the loudest noise in the room is skin hitting skin. “Holy shit - fuck - I’m gonna - gonna -”

“Gonna cum around my cock, baby?” He hisses, pressing the hand that had once resided on your hip into the mattress, gripping the covers tighter so he can rail his hips into yours desperately. “So fucking tight around me, can’t even fucking stand it -”

Your hand, shaking beyond belief, slides down to rub hard circles into your clit. The sensations on your clit and his cock, rutting against your G spot with every thrust, sends you over the edge again - already so overstimulated from the rather intense orgasm you’d had before - and with a loud cry-bordering-on-scream you’re cumming again.

“Fuck!” you moan, hips bucking up against his as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. “Fuck, Harry, oh my god -”

He’s not far behind you, hips stuttering ever so slightly but he wants to bring you to one more orgasm, securing this day as the best fuck of your (admittedly limited) sex life and he can’t cum yet. Your hand falls back onto the mattress and Harry pulls his clammy hand from yours, bringing it down to replace your fingers on your clit, and immediately you clench around his cock, begging incoherently for something - you’re not sure what - as he presses down on your clit hard.

Your eyes roll back into your head as his cock twitches inside of you, and grunts and moans are flying from Harry’s mouth faster than he can control it. Your walls flutter around his dick, his thrusts slowing to lazy pumps in and out. He’s so fucking close, he just needs one more push and then -

Your fingers wrap around his wrist and he looks down at you, your eyes nearly black with desire, tears streaking down your cheeks. “C - cum in me, professor.”

It’s the final straw for Harry, and with a nearly animalistic cry he sheathes himself fully inside of you and cums so hard so fast, it’s nearly violent, and the feeling of warmth that explodes in your cunt sends you into your fourth orgasm of the night -

It’s less intense than the others but still entirely too prominent and when you’ve finally rode out the last wave you collapse against the bed, your head spinning and your legs aching as Harry presses it back down from where it had been perched up.

Harry collapses on top of you, his body suffocating and hot and sweaty and you wrap your arms around him, your desperate attempts at steadying your breathing filling the room. You’ve never cum so hard and so much and you’re fucking exhausted, truthfully.

He lifts his head, gazing down at you as you run your fingers through his tangled, sweat soaked curls. “How was that?”

You exhale with a smile upturning your lips, beginning to feel his cum dripping out of your pussy and down your thighs. “Jesus Christ,” you murmur, and a grin breaks onto his face as he drops his forehead against your shoulder.

The two of you lie in silence for a moment - no words need to be spoken. Harry shifts the pair of you further up the bed, your head crashing onto one of his pillows as he remains, firmly on top of you, like he never wants to leave.

But you can’t stop yourself from asking the question burning through your mind, and you swallow thickly before mumbling, “Harry -”

He hums softly.

“Is this like - a one time thing?”

His head lifts again, chin pressed to your shoulder blade, eyebrows furrowed. Harry takes a moment to respond, though, lifting his hand to trace a line across your jawline to your lips, and you press a soft kiss to the tips of his fingers when he arrives at his destination. “I don’t think so,” he tells you, and his voice is quiet and vulnerable, as if waiting for you to deny him. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone.”

You smile softly, leaning in to press a kiss against his soft lips. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“‘Course, baby.”

The name makes your tummy flutter, and you think you could listen to him call you baby for the rest of your life. “I’ve dreamt of this,” you tell him, lips merely a centimeter from his. “Since the beginning of the semester, every night.”

Harry raises his eyebrows at you, and you giggle at his expression. “Glad to know I’m not the only one.”

You shut your eyes, then. Rest your head on his pillow, feeling warm with the man you adore pressed on top of you, his arms firmly and protectively wrapped around you. Nothing has ever felt more right to you, and you drift off to sleep with a soft smile still gracing your lips.

[kiriluvbot]

NO ONE ASKED BUT IM HERE TO SUPPLY ANYWAY!

sero hanta headcanons for the soul

- asexual, pan-romantic!

- uses they/he pronouns (didn’t know they could have different pronouns until he met tokoyami, and they spent their entire first year having a crisis over it)

- i know it’s old and overused but this kid is a hufflepuff, through and through

- CHILD OF APHRODITE. i take no criticism.

- a heartthrob among his entire grade, not just class A, but B as well, and the general course, and the business course,, AND the support course. everyone loves sero hanta.

- a natural charmer but is literally not aware that they make everyone within a 400 meter radius of them swoon

- until kaminari tells him in their second year. homie. youre fucking hot. and mina says, use it to your advantage. SO HE DOES.

- third year sero hanta is a force to be reckoned with, let me tell you. using their charm along with their natural ability to just. Befriend anyone (including a brick WALL tbh) to get his way. they get their way, they Know Everything. everyone knows his name by the time he graduates.

- The Older Sibling friend. not quite the mom friend or even the dad friend, but the older sibling. he’s a constant source of comfort and dependability among his class, but theyre also an agent of chaos that likes to cause problems On Purpose just to see what’ll happen. they never get caught being the instigator tho. no one can ever catch him.

- likes to watch aforementioned chaos from the sidelines. a mediator and an excellent negotiator. keeps his friends (cough, bakugo) from murdering each other or other people (cough, monoma)

- i like to think he’s the eldest child with two or three younger sisters and maybe a baby brother. their parents divorced right before sero started high school, and he and his siblings live with their mom. she’s a real lovely lady.

- since he’s the eldest, he kinda knows how to take care of people. sick people, sad people, hungry people. they can read and understand people really well if they really matter to him.

- most of the time there’s just wii music in their head tho

- they weren’t super great at prioritizing themselves/taking care of themselves when he first moved in to the dorms, but with time and help from his friends, they keep getting better at it

- sero gets his looks from his dad and his attitude from his mother. again, i imagine she’s a real lovely lady.

- their love language is physical touch! with so many younger siblings and his natural Eldest Sibling Vibe, it’s only natural for him to be super cuddly and affectionate!

- while it may not be their love language, sero also probably really likes spending quality time with his friends. they like going out, they like being loud and having a blast, but the kid also wouldn’t mind sitting in his room with his friends in silence while everyone did their own individual thing.

- the kind of person that sleeps with one pillow only and one blanket only

- probably runs warm, kicks off the blanket in the summer time. either sleeps on his back stretched out like a starfish or curled into themselves like a baby. no in between.

- has a pair of underwear they call their “lucky underwear” and it’s just a pair with spider-man’s face as the pattern.

- the kid does not have regular chairs in his dorm. it’s bean bags or the floor, man.

- they also have a hammock . i’ve seen this repeating trope in every single fic i’ve ever read

- keeps a stash of snacks in his room! but it’s a trade system. kaminari gets m&ms for cheek kisses, kirishima gets beef jerky for his most rib crushing hug, and todoroki gets gummy worms if he shares his manga.

- has led lights that are connected to his speaker and changes color every time a song changes

- has only three playlists. only three.

- they’re titled, respectively: “u yearning bastard,,” “monch monch”, “for pissing bkg off”

- he still listens to the jonas brothers, lots of big time rush, but also fleetwood mac and abba. frank ocean, lorde,,,, but also. they know every word to both mama mia soundtracks.

- absolutely adores horror + romance movies and not much else

- he tries getting into star wars for kirishima’s sake but he literally cannot keep up with the plot for shit.

- can quote the entirety of the notebook with mina (it infuriates bakugo to no end when those two ask to watch it for the fifth time in a week)

- has never tried an energy drink in their life, absolutely refuses to because caffeine makes him Shake and he hates the feeling

- drinks a lot of tea tho! with momo and todoroki!

- favorite snack is oranges. this kid always has oranges.

- aside from satou and bakugo, sero is probably one of the best cooks in their class

- resident pretty boy. did i mention everyone loves them? seriously. he even has the ever so stoic shouto todoroki pining after him.

- had a huge growth spurt the summer after second year began. it pissed off all their friends because he finally passed 6’ while the others were still stuck at 5’9 or below.

- by graduation, sero reached 6’3, and bakugo was still mad, because bakugo never passed 5’10.

- really grew into himself by the end of high school, finally learning how they wanted to express themselves with his clothing style, hair and *clenches fist* piercings

- started painting his nails the summer before their third year and hasnt stopped

- glorious, curly mullet. bejeweled hair pins. jean jackets and platform docs. piercings all the way up his ears. a nose ring and a smiley. (if you don’t know what a smiley is, i beg you to search it up. it’s the cutest fucking thing i’ve ever seen in my life and i want one so bad)

- ochaco is the one who cuts sero’s hair in third year.

- he got most of his piercings alongside bakugo or kaminari, but when they went to get the nose ring, they’d gone with iida and midoriya. and when he got the smiley, he went with todoroki, who squeezed his hand when the needle went through, even if todoroki wasn’t the one getting pierced.

- one time he and denki shaved their legs and arms and Everything to see if it would make them “more aerodynamic” ( “haha dont u mean /sero/dynamic?” “shut up”)

- strangely flexible. everywhere. it makes shouji shiver and jirou gag. it makes todoroki stare with wide, disbelieving eyes.

- really bad handwriting. like. what the fuck.

- that doesn’t stop them from writing cards for each of his friends for their birthdays, for christmas. it doesn’t stop them from writing letters to todoroki (even if he ended up shredding them and throwing them away after they were finished so no one would ever find them. he wanted to ask bakugo to incinerate them, just to be safe, but they didn’t want bakugo, or anyone else, that he had written love letters to shouto todoroki.)

(....not until after they confessed and finally started dating in their third year.)

- finger guns. unironically.

- is a surprisingly good dancer and a passable singer!!!!!!!!

- sings in the shower. also dances in the shower, but one time they fell and hit the wall connecting his and todoroki’s room, and todoroki thought he might’ve died. came to his door and didn’t bother knocking to check and see if they were alright. sero didn’t dance in the shower for a long time after that.

- his favorite color is yellow, but they also really, really like red.

- doesn’t have a fucking phone case on their phone.

- earbuds falling apart but he just keeps putting more tape over them because they really don’t wanna buy new ones (kirishima bought him a pair for christmas because he didn’t want sero to get electrocuted from broken earbuds. sero ensured him he would likely not get electrocuted just from some earbuds, but took the gift anyway)

- smell checks their clothes like a HEATHEN

- is in love with shouto todoroki.

that’s all :) sero hanta is my number one best boy and i love them dearly.

[dancingthesambaa]

The Smell Of Plum Blossom Tea Ch 5

Summary: Just like a butterfly wing, a single act of kindness can change the course of the future, it certainly did for MK as a black-furred monkey put out a hand towards him.

Rating: Teen and up

Chapter 5: By Your Side

“Next is the bag of chips, why he likes pizza flavor I will never know,” Mac muttered as he pushed his cart through the aisles.

The two teenagers in his care, at this point Mei might as well be one of his, had opted out of the grocery trip and decided to do their own thing on the other side of town. Still well perfectly within hearing distance, but he smartly decided not to eavesdrop on their conversations, he would rather not have two very creative, and vengeful, kids out to get him.

After he had grabbed the bag of chips and placed it in with all the many, many items in the cart, some of them were not even for him and the two kids as his friends tend to make themselves at home at times. He feels like he should be charging his friends for the amount of stuff he gets for them no matter how rich he may be.

‘Who even needs this many ghost peppers, 3 bundles of apples, a bag of soft sponges, industrial nail filer, and a goddamn indestructible chew ball,’ he internally ranted in his head as he went through another aisle, ‘What am I, their parent?’ They have their own damn jobs!’ He then looked through some of their teas available and his nose scrunched up as he picked up a box of passion fruit tea. “Who the fuck even likes passion fruit tea? That shit is way too sweet,” he grumbled to himself.

“Well store bought ones usually don’t have that same ‘Oomph’ as homemade ones,” a deep voice said.

“You’re telling me,” Mac agreed as he side glance at the man who was reaching for one of the teas on the top shelf as he couldn’t contain his eye twitch. ‘Okay, been in this city for gods knows how long, and in the span of less than a year I managed to find ones that are descendants or reincarnation of most of the fucking crew. What the actual fuck is this sort of luck?! I know that there are historians willing to sell their soul for even a trace of this, so what kind of fucked up luck am I getting that I just stumbled upon them.’

“Hm,” he, the overgrown beast of a demon that shared too much resemblance to Sha Wujing, titled his head to him. “Is there something the matter?” His eyes widen as he tries to look over his body and pants, “Do I have cat hair on me?! I thought I managed to clean the last of it off before I left.”

“No, no,” he waved him off, “just thought you looked familiar, that’s all.”

“Oh well in that case,” the large man shifted his basket to his other hand and stuck out his right, “my name is Sandy, it’s nice to meet a fellow tea lover.”

Macaque stared at the hand for a bit before giving a small smirk and shaking it, “Name Macaque and right back at ya big lug.”

“Personally I like the Biluochun Tea,” Sandy said as he plucked up a box of Chamomile, “but unfortunately they have yet to fully bloom in my garden so I am making do with a substitute,” he joked.

“Then how about Kuding?” Mac recommended.

“I may like the taste of bitter, but I don’t want that to be my only taste,” he admitted.

“Well I think it’s pretty good.”

“Let me take a wild guess and say that you don’t like sweet things.”

“I only tolerate for my kiddos,” he mumbled as he put the box of Junshan Yinzhen Tea, he already had a batch of Kuding growing out in the garden, so there is little point in grabbing a weak ass store brand tea that held not even the same resemblance to how it truly tastes. He tried a box out of sheer curiosity and immediately chuck that so far away, that thing that called itself Kuding tea is a disgrace to the true masterpiece.

“You have kids,” the demon piped up as he walked alongside the monkey.

“Technically one, but with the number of times she stays over, I might as well claim that hellion,” he grumbled as the two goes out of the aisle and towards the meat.

“Awww, that’s sweet,” he put his hand to his very muscular chest, “the only little ones I have are my adorable cats,” he then proudly showed off his wallet which had an assortment of different kinds of cats.

“Cute,” he admitted as he took in the collection of cats, “was this an all at once thing or more of a gradual.”

“Oh some were gradual, others were in groups, and some was just picked up,” he said as he put up his wallet, “Like one day I come home and find Mimi, one of my older ones, carrying the most adorable blue kitten,” he began to tell his tale of Mo as the two continued their shopping together.

“I’ll be with you in just a moment,” Pigsy yelled out as he served a tray full of steaming hot noodles to his other customers.

“Man, this place is packed today,” Mac said as he took the only seat on the counter, which was by the entrance. The place was brimming with customers, either loitering outside waiting for their order or just chatting amicably inside.

“Yeah, lunch hour kicks my as-butt each time,” he had to suppress a groan and put on a customer service grin as he watched another group stroll in. “Be with you in a minute!”

“I thought you had some staff? I know the last time we came in, we saw a driver leaving with the food,” he asked as he straightened out his lavender dress covered with floral print.

“Well,” Pigsy said after he finished taking orders and began making the food, “I had to fire that lazy bum after he called off so many times, a few I get, but how does 4 out of the five days you work help?! And you still expect me to pay you for a full two weeks of service?” He grumbled harshly as he then took a few of the clean bowls out.

“Yikes,” Mac grimaced, “…want some help?”

The owner paused and sharply looked towards the monkey, “you offering?”

“Yeah, don’t really have anything better to do, besides,” he showed off two more clones, which barely made people bat an eye as they were too engrossed in their meals and phones, “I am basically a one man army.”

Pigsy looked so wistfully at that power and quickly asked, “are you any good at customer service?”

“I volunteer at a theater,” he raised an eyebrow.

“You're hired,” the shorter demon threw an apron at him, “you’ll get paid by the end of the day.”

“Instead of that, how bout next time I drop by, food is on the house?” He bargained as he put on the apron.

“Deal,” he instantly agreed and he could feel a wave of relief wash over him as he now could focus on cooking instead of everything at once. “Next time why don’t you talk to Tang about how free meals work, maybe then his lazy butt can finally start paying me.”

“Why don’t you just not give him free food?” Macaque smirked as he saw a faint blush on the pig’s face.

“Shut up,” he muttered.

The monkey said nothing more as he put the apron on, turned to the group of people that was just seated, took out a notepad, and gave his most theatrical smile “Welcome to Pigsy Noodles, what can I get started for you?”

“So anyway, I have been looking through some of the books that I saw in an antique store, and let me tell you that I scored the motherload!” Tang excitedly said as he talked beside the lake. “Guess what I happened to find.”

“What?” The creature prompted him as he casually floated in the water.

“You have money? You actually have a job,” the other being questioned, “and you still let Pigsy pay for your food?”

“It’s a journal that tells the tale of someone who got trapped in the spiritual world after a failed ritual!” He exclaimed as he steadfastly ignored the previous question.

“Pffftt,” he sputtered out a laugh.

“I don’t know about you but isn’t it usually a bad thing when someone gets trapped somewhere,” Macaque drawled out as he chewed on a plum as he stretched out on the grass with a baby monkey clinging onto him. Ní, who decided to chill in her rabbit form for some reason, also nodded as she laid down on the sunlight grass. “Also, you haven’t answered my question.”

“Well she obviously is alright since she wrote this book and all,” the historian tried to defend himself as he still didn’t answer.

“Surrree.”

“It’s true, you agree with me right Shu,” he turned to the water demon.

“Absolutely,” the Shui Gui cheekily said.

Tang shot a smirk at him.

“He agrees with anything he finds funny,” he rolled his eyes.

“Well anyway,” he took out the book and showed it to them, “this book illustrates how Chi-Chi journey through the treacherous parts of the realm, tricked many dangerous beings, gazed upon the beauty of the uncharted, and met so many spirits and immortals along the way!”

“Is that so,” Mac hummed.

“I would give an arm and a leg to meet an immortal or even a spirit,” he said unblinkingly then he went back to his fanboy mode, “I would have so many questions to ask them!”

The 2 immortal beings shared a look at each other as the monkey then put a hand over the spirit’s mouth to stop him from saying anything.

“Don’t you even think about it Kappa,” he warned him.

The drowned spirit just gave him a cheeky grin as he raised his webbed hands in the air.

“I swear,” Macaque grumbled as he put down his hand, “how the hell did the two of you even become friends?”

“He fed me some beef jerky,” he happily explained, “and that was the start of a beautiful friendship.”

“And he never once comments on why you always hang around the lake and not anywhere else?” He incredulously said.

“Nope!”

“Adrenaline junkie I swear.”

“You say something?” Tang called out as he paused his fanboy mode.

“Just talking about your obvious crush on Pigsy,” Mac facepalmed when the spirit just had to say that of all things.

“It’s not a crush!” Tang marched up to him with his ears redder than an apple, “Can’t someone just appreciate another person's attractive qualities?”

“Yes, yes you can,” he agreed.

“Good,” the fanatic crossed his arms, “then you can safely assume that-.”

“Butttt you have a fancy for the pig,” the spirit ended.

“NO I DO NOT!”

“The sheer irony is actually ridiculous,” Mac said to himself as he slowly petted the infant.

“Ooo oo,” the baby macaque cooed.

“No, you cannot eat my tail.”

“You know, I’m getting real tired of those idiots' constant fighting,” Macaque grumbled as he petted a very fat and very fluffy cat.

“Tell me about it,” Sandy nodded his head as he drank some tea. “They have been at it for almost the second they met each other.”

“I swear I am so close to just shoving them both in a closet alone and letting them deal with it.”

“Yeahhh, that might not work so well,” Sandy drawled out as he set down his cup.

“Why? Cause it won’t be right,” he mocked.

“Well there’s that, but also there’s the fact that it would absolutely do nothing at all and just lead to them bickering more,” he pointed out.

“You, unfortunately, have a point,” he slumped back as another cat crawled on top of him.

“Also, I may have already tried that.”

“Wait? Really?” He sat back up and looked at the blue demon’s sheepish expression.

“Let me just tell you that seeing it on t.v does not really work the same way as real life,” he still remembered how they were both mad at him for locking them in a room together.

“Tell me about it,” Mac already knows the pain as both MK and Mei went through this phase as they tried to do the most ridiculous stunts or experiment with dangerous chemicals. Luckily he managed to stop or save them in time, but there were a few times where he was preoccupied or just missed it. Let it be known that they both learned their lesson after breaking bones and a fierce rash all over their arms. He still doesn't know what they were trying to prove with the lacquer tree. “Oh yeah, how did it go with flicker the other day? Didn’t give you too much trouble?”

“Oh nothing I couldn’t handle,” Sandy smiled at the mention of his newest client, “Can’t tell you much cause of confidentiality and whatnot, but he is open to another session.”

The monkey nodded, “that’s good, Gods know he needs it, now if Raki was more amenable to the idea, but she is the most prideful person I know and that is including her husband.”

The blue demon winced, “yeahhh I can see how that might be a bit difficult.”

“You're telling me.”

“Focus,” Macaque yelled out as he nimbly dodged a flying kick, “remember that when you strike, you make sure that strike will be your last.”

Mei didn’t say a word as she growled at her missed shot and jumped towards him then fainted for an upward cut then quickly proceeded to go into a low roll as MK came up from behind with a high kick.

“Good plan you two,” he praised as he simply jumped above MK’s head and said, “but try going for a grapple next time, it would have been more effective to topple me over rather than try to catch me off guard in the air.”

MK flipped backward and attempted to grab onto his tail, which he quickly realized was a mistake as he felt the tail wrap around his arm and flung him to Mei, who was charging at him.

“If I was an unskilled fighter then that would have been quite an effective weakness to exploit, but it’s too bad I’m not,” he mocked the two as he caught Mei sword with one hand and MK escrima stick with the other and casually tossed them back to the edges of the tree line.

“Oh come on!/We almost had him!” Both teens yelled out as they simultaneously punched a tree in frustration, which left a handprint etched into the wood when they took it out.

Only Macaque noticed this as both of the kids elected to split off from each other and try to attack him from both sides. “Guess they have adapted quite well to my energy,” he mused as he watched them run towards him, “Probably should tell them to take it easy else they’ll break their bones, again.” He then easily began to dodge from both of their attacks as they gave it their all to finally hit the damn monkey.

And this how it continued, with both seventeen year olds working together to finally land a hit on the speedy monkey, only for it to fail every time.

“You're getting better,” he said as he looked down on the two exhausted teenagers trying to catch their breath.

“One day,” Mei took a long deep breath before continuing, “one day, I don’t know when, but one day I will punch that damn smug off your face.”

“Ditto,” MK raised his hand in the air then dropped it then pushed his loose hair out of his eyes.

Mei saw this and gave a faint snort, “you know I can help with your hair-”

“I’m not putting pigtails in my head again,” he deadpanned.

“Come on, I can even get fluffy to join.”

“How about no,” he bluntly said as handed them two cold water bottles, “take a breather breezy, starlight. We can resume in a few minutes.”

“Okayy,” they moaned out.

“Awww, but I bet you would look cute in pigtails,” they all turned to see Minsheng hop in with a few others as well, “I know there will be a lot of demons just willing to pay for a pic, just think of the money.”

“Remember the glitter,” Macaque growled out.

“The bunny paused and crossed their arms as their friends laughed behind him, “ Well I’m just saying.”

“It took them ages to get all that out,” Daiyu stated, it didn’t even come off until a full month has gone by, and yet they still found small patches in their fur.

“Almost killed him when he tried to hug me with that on him,” Bohai huffed as he glowed a bit at the horrible image of him even having a speck of that abomination on him.

“They looked like my gremlin’s arts and crafts masterpiece when they were five,” Yanyu chortled.

“It was indeed horrible,” Ahmed lowly chuckled out as he slowly trailed behind them all, then all demons, and adult human, in the vicinity paused.

“Oh right this,” the bluenette human almost hit herself at how quickly she forgot, “we did come here for a reason.”

“Voices gettin to ya,” the long-furred monkey easily asked the lion demon.

“They have been a bit annoying,” he gave a weak chuckle.

“I feel ya,” he turned to his kids, “go towards the tree line with the rest of them, it seems that class will have to be cut short.”

“Okay?” Both were very confused, but obliged by the demon words as they walked over to the group, only to be pulled back by Bohai. “Hey!/What?”

“Oh trust me,” the jellyfish demon said, “you do not want to be anywhere near Ahmed at the moment. He’s a bit...unhinged.”

“Him? But he’s a total softie,” Mei shot a look to him.

“He let Mei put ribbons in his mane,” MK added.

“Oh there’s no doubt about Med squishy heart, but there are times where he just has to cut loose, ya feel me,” the vulture just received confused looks.

“Just watch,” the bunny demon grinned and took out a bundle of golden carrots, and began to eat.

“What do you mean-,” she was cut off by Macauqe voice.

“Come at me you overgrown cat.”

They saw Ahmed give a grateful nod before he went on all four, not even caring about his messing up his robes, and his body started to spasm as he let out a fierce roar that made everyone in the vicinity cover their ears.

ROAAARRRRR

He then flickered out of view and the monkey quickly had both his arms crossed in front of him as a plume of dirt and dust gathered around him without warning. It was only when it was settled that the demons and humans saw that the once flat field now had a decent crater in the middle with both lion and monkey. Ahmed gave a low snarl as he saw that the monkey was not harmed.

“Aww baby cub claws not working,” he mocked him as he sent a hard kick to his jaw, “how bout I help ya there.”

He growled as he quickly grabbed the monkey’s leg and flung him to the ground, he gave a nasty grin as he saw blood trickle from his head.

“Wouldn’t get too cocky, haven’t you already tasted the blood trickling out of your jaw?”

The lion stilled as he tasted the metallic tang covering his tongue, he let out a low growl in frustration.

“First blood to me,” was all Mac had to say before the lion gave a roar and lunged at him, thus the fight beginning once more.

MK and Mei were stunned silent as they watch the vicious battle as each time Ahmed tried to throw an attack it would either get dodged or redirected, but if he did manage to land one blood was always shed. Macaque was the same way as each time he managed to strike him down they swore that they heard bones loudly breaking.

But neither side gave in.

“Terrifying right,” they were slightly startled by Yanyu’s voice and couldn’t help, but fall over as they saw, not only her, but everyone casually laying down and/or eating.

“Oh don’t give us that look,” Daiyu said as she hummed and watched the lion attempt to claw the monkey's eyes out, “it’s only some bloodshed, nothing major. Though it would be more thrilling if a certain spider bitch was involved, I would love to see her blood splattered out,” she lowly huffed.

“What she means to say is that Macaque has this well in hand, this isn’t his first time dealing with ol Meddy when he’s primal,” Bohai tried to comfort them.

“Primal?” MK questioned.

“Basically it’s when someone instinct takes over,” Minsheng explained as they munched on their carrot while watching Mac throw him harshly to the ground, “sometimes it’s a good thing like you stuck in a corner and you got a colony you need to protect behind you, it’s one hell of a boost let me tell you. Other times not so much.”

Both kids blinked at that lackluster answer.

“What they mean,” Bohai continued as they casually looked away from Ahmed sinking his teeth into Macaque shoulder, “is that other times the bad times, to put it bluntly, it’s when the voices get so loud that it begins to control your entire being until you finally get rid of it. If you're lucky, it can be as easy as sleeping, if not well,” he looked at where the six-eared monkey had ripped his shoulder away from Ahmed red stained fangs and proceeded to knock out a few teeth in retaliation. “That.”

“He becomes bloodthirsty,” Mei quietly says.

“Yeah,” Yanyu softly brought them down next to her as she gave them a bag of popcorn, “it’s not pretty, but he just has to let it out.”

“But why is Dad the one fighting him?! Why not any of you!” He half shouted in nervousness and anger as he looked towards the demons, specifically Daiyu.

“Well I don’t know about you, but I don’t have a death wish,” Bohai bluntly stated.

“Here here,” Sheng raised his hand.

“Tried that once and I was beaten in a minute flat,” the vulture huffed, “if Mackie wasn’t there then my body would have been a nice dinner to the rest of the wake.”

“Thus their first meeting,” the bunny added.

“Wait, Mac Mac first time meeting Ahmed was when he was beating the shit out of Daiyu and then to each other,” Mei asked.

“Yep,” they collectively said.

“And he is literally the only one able to fight against him?” MK questioned.”

“Yep,” they repeated.

Both teens took a glance as the monkey continued his vicious strikes against the lion, who attempted to decapitate his head every time, but each time he missed he instead decimated any boulders in the unfortunate vicinity into dust. The primal lion retaliated with his own thundering roar, but Macaque was fast enough to dodge the attacks that uprooted a grove of trees.

“Well there goes any small lingering doubts on how he was able to go toe to toe with the Monkey King,” Mei deadpanned as she slumped and stuffed her hand into the popcorn.

MK followed suit as he ate some popcorn, “you’re telling me.”

“He is kicking major monkey ass right now.”

“I am so happy that he is going easy on us,” the ponytail boy whispered out.

“Holy shit, no kidding,” she agreed, “just think, we could have been less than paste on the side of the road with a single hit if he actually tried to let loose with us.”

“Nahh, you don’t have to worry about that,” Min waved their worries off, “other than this, the only other time he actually lets loose is around his exes.”

“I’m sorry, his WHAT?!/Wait? WHAT?!” Mei and MK sat up as Mei continued, “what do you mean exes?!”

“Dad dated?!?!?” MK followed suit.

“Oh yeah,” Yanyu grinned, “I even met some of them, and let me tell you that he has horrible taste in partners.”

“I don’t think it’s his fault that most of them fall on the insane scale and not in a good way,” Bohai deadpanned.

“By insane you mean impulsive as shit that tries to fight anything that moves, then yeah,” Daiyu nodded.

“It’s weird hearing those words coming from you,” the adult human teased.

“Hey, I may like fighting, but even I have my own limits. His partners take the entire train and then the second one charging at em.”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around Dad dating,” the seventeen year old muttered as he gripped his head as he looked towards the blood stained battle. “This I can get, but dating?”

“…I am so never gonna let this go,” a twinkle of mischievous appeared in Mei's eyes as she looked at them, “sooo if you had to guess, which one is his most insane, or worst, partner.”

“I have to say Hui, that scorpion bastard seemed nice enough, but she was a raging alcoholic that always tried to get into the celestial realm for some booze” Sheng started as they stuffed the rest of the carrot in their mouth.

“Ju. He was a fishy one, that turtle was always looking for his next meal, no matter where it came from,” Bohai grumbled.

“Might have something to do with nature,” Yanyu teased.

“Shut up.”

“Both of ya are brain dead if you forgot who really takes the crown,” the winged demon interjected.

“Who then?”

Daiyu and Yanyu just looked at each other before saying, “Lemur bitch.”

“Fair point,” both aquatic and land demons replied.

“Who?” Mei asked, but it was met with grimaced faces.

“Just,” Bohai began, “just pray you never meet him, Shun is-,” he was cut off by a loud yell.

SLAM

“WE DON’T TALK ABOUT HIM!” Macaque screeched while all his ears flared up, his eyes twitch violently with a wild look. “NEVER!” He repeated as he pressed his foot and staff on the lion’s back, who was just growling out and thrashing wildly under him.

“Yeahhh, let’s just say that after him, doc swore off on dating,” Yanyu sighed as she ate a handful of popcorn.

“But what did he do?” MK said as he was careful to avoid the name.

“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

“But I really do,” Mei leaned in.

“No you don’t.”

“But I-,” she got a mouthful of popcorn stuffed in her mouth.

“You don’t,” Yanyu pulled back her hand, “now let’s watch them beat the shit out of each other. 20 on Mufasa knocking him out this time.”

“I’ll add to that,” Min added.

“Well I bet 25 that Dad will knock him out!” MK shouted, “there’s no way he’ll lose.”

“And I’ll double that,” Mei joined in after she swallowed the popcorn, “no way pops is losing to an overgrown cat!”

“Get ready to eat your words.”

“The only thing I’ll be eating is some delicious double truffle swirl ice cream with your money.”

“Let’s just see about that.”

(Minsheng soon regretted those words as both Mei and MK happily ate their ice cream alongside a bandaged, but still a very conscious monkey, and a bruised up lion who was contently knocked out.)

“And that should be the last of it,” the eighteen year old boy grinned as he then noticed a violet headband hanging next to a stuffed monkey, “whoops, can’t forget that.” He quickly snatched it up and proceeded to put his hair in a ponytail then began to look around his room.

The room, once filled with clothes spread all over the floor, glow in the dark stars on the ceiling, pictures and posters covering the walls, now laid bare with only a few boxes left to the side filled with them all. MK couldn’t stop the sad grin that formed on his face as he took in the sight of his room-old room, he was going to miss this, but he felt that it was time to move out and try living on his own for a while.

Knock Knock

“Sorry I’m not in right now, leave a message,” he jokingly said despite fully knowing who is on the other side.

The door swung open to reveal Macaque fondly rolling his eyes, “Where’d you get that snark from, I’ll never know.”

“Neither shall I.”

The monkey looked around the room, “so it looks like you're about done, you gonna bring it all over to Pigsy?”

“Most of it, yeah, but I have a separate pile I'm donating or giving to Yan munchkins,” he pointed to a few boxes titled ‘Donations’ and ‘Yanyu Gremlins.’

Mac smirked at the name as he gave a little walk around the bare room and noticed that where the bed used to be was a splatter of red paint and a dent in the wall, “huh, so how did this happen?”

MK froze as he saw what he was looking at and gave a nervous grin, “so remember when Mei was over and we had a bunch of paint for that art project.”

“The one about the deities or the one about nature?”

“Nature, and well remember how you found us covered in paint in here.”

“After I told you to keep it in the kitchen or outside so it won't be too hard to clean up, yes.” He deadpanned.

“And we did at first,” he put a finger up, “buttttt I left some of my materials in my room and it was alot, so Mei followed, but we kinda forgot that we still had wet paint all over us and we began to freak out. One thing led to another and Mei may have accidentally used too much force as she was panicking and let to the dent in the wall, which then made us panic even more, so we had the idea of moving the bed to cover the dent, which worked...except now the covers had paint on it and well....”

“Is how I found the both of you freaking out on the bed covered head to toe in paint,” the monkey snorted.

“In hindsight, we probably should have taken off our shoes before walking inside,” he scratched the back of his neck and sat against the wall opposing the window.

“That would have been a smart idea, took us ages to get it all cleaned,” he smirked as he sat beside him.

The teenager sighed as he looked out the window, “I'm gonna miss this.”

“Pfft, who says you can’t come back?” He playfully ruffled his head, “this isn’t a goodbye, but a see you later, you're always welcomed back home anytime.”

“Even if I screw it up time and time again,” he leaned into the touch.

“Even if you managed to wreck the whole country and have a bounty coming from the heavens that could feed nations for lifetimes,” Mac shot back.

MK laughed at the image, “Havoc in Heaven’s sequel, now with more monkeys.”

“And dragons,” the demon added.

“Mei would kick so much ass.”

“She absolutely would,” he chuckled as he continued to thread his fingers through his son's hair.

It was silent and, like so many times before, the two of them took only comfort from it.

“Dad,” MK quietly began.

“Yes comet.”

“… I’m scared,” he curled up into him, “like super duper scared and I have never left you ever since you saved-,”

“You would have-,” Macaque interjected.

“Saved,” he emphasized, “me and I can never thank you enough for just being there but I really want to do this and I really want to try to do things on my own! But I don’t know why I am so scared-wait I do, but it just so stupid and I can’t believe that I feel this way, cause you won’t just up and leave, but I-,” he stopped as he felt his Dad arms encircle him.

“It’s a scary step and I know change is terrifying, but I am so proud that you want to do this. It will be hard, no doubt, and at times it may seem like the whole world is against you, but know that you still have tomorrow waiting for you. So,” he tilted his son's head, “keep your head held high and look towards the stars, cause that right there is your limit starlight.”

MK smiled at his father's words.

“Also I think you may have forgotten something,” he showed off his six ears fluttering. “I have six ears for a reason, so if you ever need help or just need me, just call and-,”

“You’ll come running,” he grinned as he pushed himself further into the monkey's soft fur.

“And don’t you forget it,” he pushed his face into his son's hair and gave a soft kiss on top.

“I won’t,” he whispered out and clutched onto him tightly as both curled up in content.

[infinitegalahad]

Borhap Boys As Sugar Daddies

(reposted bc it was disappearing from the tags😭)

hey guys!! I wanna apolgoize for the disappearance, school is ✨madness✨ luv. so I've decided to try something new. But I promise I'm working on requests (and a bunch of new ideas). I love all of the borhap boys (bc they are babies🥺) so this might become a little series of head canons! no major warnings, just lots of fluff and some suggestive material. also reader is gender neutral (boy, girl, whatever you what it my dudes!) why not mix my fav trope and boys all in...one fic😳😳 anyways hope you guys enjoy!! I would love some feedback for future reference

Masterlist (requests are welcomed!)

Rami Malek-

Number one that gif of him...need I say more? 🥰

I’m sick of how ya’ll sleep on Rami!! I’m gonna give him tons of love

He would be one of the most affectionate sugar daddy’s tbh

Certainly would spoil the HECK out of you

Whether it be paying off your bills or lavish trips to Greece, Rami always has your back

You never had to pay a SINGLE PENNY when you were around him

Being with Rami, you were a changed person

Your fashion game went UPPPP

Like chanel perfume, all designer clothes, nice handbags, you NAME IT

”Rami, I’m not buying a five hundred dollar shirt from Theory.” ”What do you mean? It would look so good on you, sweetheart.”

Yes, Rami bought you the shirt

You two were at a vinyl place and you saw a limited edition queen vinyl

He buys it (and basically 10+ vinyls you love)

SO RAMI MAKES A WHOLE ASS ROOM IN HIS HOME FOR YOUR VINYLS🥺🥺

This man is omfg i loveee him❣️

Little sneak kisses to your forehead

Seeing you smile as you shop and blush at his complaints makes him so freaking happy HE LOVES YOU SO MUCH

He would take you shopping at the best stores

“I would be fine at a target, y’know” as you look around a Gucci store

Rami would snake an arm around your waist as he cooed into your ear, “My baby deserves the best, and nothing but the best

What started out as an arrangement turned into a genuine relationship

When looking for a sugarbaby, Rami was simply looking for company (and someone to spoil the heck out of)

In all truth, he was simply a lonely guy who simply wanted someone to make happy, and made himself happy in the process

Wherever you guys would go, he would always wanna hold your hand and be close to you bc he’s scared of loosing someone he’s made a connection with

And i’m totally not crying as I write this

Both of you were in dark places when you first met

Rami showed how much he truly cared about you

If you called him all upset, he would SPEED over with whatever you needed whether it be pizza or emotional support

Sitting on your couch, his arm wrapped around yours as you vented about your problems

Rami had convinced you to drop your job and come live with him because he’s a KING!!

”Angel, you’re not gonna have to worry about anymore.” ”What do you mean?”

You ended up quitting your job and moving in with him

What turned into an arrangement became an intimate relationship

The sex between you to was AMAZING

it was VERY intimate

It started off slow but would get increasingly rougher god I hate what I said

Rami would always check up and you and NEVER go past your limits

It would end with the two of you cuddling in bed

Let’s just say you never had to worry about your bills ever again😎😎

I MADE MYSELF CRY WHYYY

Gwilym Lee-

my love for this man? ENDLESS

Seriosuly gwilym lee HAVE MY CHILDERN

anyways to the pLOT

Gwilym is the sexiest and cutest man alive

The sugar daddy that will bring you EVERYWHERE HE GOES

He’s such a gentlemen

Like all relationships start, it was more of an arrangement then a relationship

Your job was to escort Gwilym at all these events as “company”

Gwilym would send a bunch of nice items and a driver to bring you to the location

”Hope you like this ❤️ xxx”   “Treat yourself! 😘xxx”

Like mister I-😳😳

Gwilym is literally such a sweet person

Whenever you were spotted with him, you would get thousands of compliemnts/questions

”You’re with Gwilym! So lucky!”

”That necklace is to kill for! Did Gwilym give it to you?”

”Teach my your ways!”

Whenever you’re at these events all these people give you evil stares

Your like👁👄👁 “is Gwilym a playboy??”

Gwilym is all like “what do you mean?? 🥺Of course not! Your the only one that matters to me right now”

He’s such a king we LOVE HIM

Spontaneous trips to France and Italy

Gwilym and you grow super close

Also your dates would range from fancy galas for Gwilym’s works or peaceful book/poetry readings

He LOVES books and always takes you to bookstores and gives his best recommendations

He literally turns into an english teacher while overanalyzing books

”The greenlight in Green Gatbsy is such a crucial symbol”

”Jane Austen is one of the best feminist writers, she was so ahead of her time!”

You wanna be annoyed but can’t

i can’t I LOVE GWILYM LEE I’M NOT SORRY

The two of you would lie in bed together

You would be slouched against his body as he stroked your hair, reading to you in that accent

As much as you love your gentlemen, you get him into the wacky world of ninety day fiance

”This looks like trash...I’m going to watch every minute of it!”

You guys order chinese food and watch this obsessviely for six hours

I know this is meant to be fluffy but why not add some 🌶

Sex with you and Gwil is like ✨fireworks✨

He would make sure you wouldn’t be able to walk the next day let’s just say😉

He would have to carry you around and kiss your head, saying “You're so adorable, poppet” or “Don’t strain your legs, Cariad!”

Also ceo of AMAZING NICKNAMES

”My anwylyd” (Welsh for dearest)

Would 100% write you romantic poems (over text and in paper)

And yes he WOULD dramatically read them to you😤😤✌🏽

He would always greet you with the most over the top nicknames like “Good morning cariad!” or “Sit there and act pretty, my beloved”

hi mr lee please make me your sugar baby

Gwilym is your sugar daddy but also your sweet, book loving man

He loves seeing you happy so in return, you make him happy💓💓

Joe Mazzello-

This one is a wildcard ladies and gays!! 😌😌

Joe definitely does not strike you as a sugar daddy

He seems more like your boyfriend than anything else

The two of you were inseparable

After dinner Joe would take you to a karaoke bar or for ice cream

After the first date you started calling him Joey

Drunken duets to cheesy 80’s romance songs

The two of you would sing your hearts out before vomiting from the copious ammouts of ice cream and vodka

With Joe it’s eithier mcdonalds or Nobu in TriBeCa

Mr.Mazello has range😌✨

This dude is the ceo of cheesy nicknames

”Yes my little lover muffin!”

”What is it cutie patootie?”

”You look amazing buttercup!”

“What’s up, hot stuff?”

In public he calls you “baby” or “lover” dw he saves you from public embarrassment 

You know that meme of will smith and his wife? That is basically you and Joe

My love for his man is infinite

Joe is super clingy

Hand holding and lots of PDA

He wants people to know that your his sugar baby😤😤💓

he will always send texts like

”miss you baby💓💗💓💗!”

”can you grab milk from the store pls??”

”SUGAR HONEY ICED TEA WHERE ARE YOU😩😩🤯🤯🤯”

”Joe, it’s been a day.”

He has so many photos of you in his camera roll

You are his lockscreen😔💓

The ceo’s of amazing instagram photos, whether it be you wearing a burger king crown at Burger King or You guys kissing on a boat with the Italian sunset on a private boat

Captions would be could “my favorite fairytale is our love story” or “yasss queen slay it!”

It’s cringey but god Joe is so adorable

A combination of a child and gentleman ALL IN ONE

All of his friends are like “you guys HAVE to be dating!’

It’s suppose to be nothing more than an arrangement right?

I mean the two of you were living with eachother and he dropped all of this other sugar babies for you

The two of you are master chefs minus the one time Joe burned mac and cheese and set the stove on fire

Also not to get smutty but the sex between you two? Like

Straight up RAMMING to sweet pillowtalk

Anyways Joe being your sugar daddy would definitely not be a bad thing at all😘

Always exchange those “I love you’s” 💕✨

Ben Hardy-

When first seeing Ben on your sugar daddy app, you were 100% intimidated

But upon meeting him, this tough dude was a PUPPY🥺❣️

On the first date he bought you flowers and gave you a hug

“Y/n, right?”

“That’s me!”

“I just wanted to say you look stunning, love.”

You were wearing jeans and literally smiled so much

You know this date was going to go VERY WELL NOW😩✌🏽✨

Instead of a fancy restaurant, Ben took you to a stroll around London

Whatever clothes you wanted? He got it

Whatever cafe you wanted to stop at? Buy all the tea/coffee and pastries you want

Hotel? Trivago

The two of you walked around the city, hand and hand as you got to know eachother

You ended up walking around the city for five hours up until midnight

You laughed and talked about thousands of things

In confusion, you had to see Ben again

As Ben walked you back to your place, you smiled at him,

”I’d like to do that again.”

”Call me when you want, y/n.”

So your “dates” became more frequent

Ben had the best ideas for dates

Dinners at small Italian places, walking around a museum, or just sitting in his place and watching mindless television

He made sure to spoil you

With gifts, literally and figurreitly

Sex was a large piece in your arrangeemnt

But it was not the only thing in your relationship

And it was!! Amazing!!

”You’re so fucking beautiful” as he would kiss your forehead and dive straight into it 🥺😳

Not only could that man be A BEAST but an absolute sweetheart

Everyday you looked forward to not only getting paid by him, but just talking to him for hours on end

He would stay up for hours just to talk to you, whether it be about your lives or anything

and that ladies and gays is a dedicated MAN

No matter what, Ben always found a way to touch you

He always had his hand on the chair behind you or your thigh

You guys would have pillowforts and nerf fun battles together

It would always end with a cuddle session

Frankie would be skeptcial but love you!!

You guys got so close that he took you on a trip to the greek islands AND PROPOSED!! LIKE!! YES!!😌😌😌

LIKE YES POP OFF MISTER BEN HARDY

[out-of-jams]

Rules of the Game || jhs

↠ Rules of the Game ↞ “You didn’t even need to see the tag sewed into the jacket of his suit to know that it cost more than you made in a single weekend. Didn’t need to sit next to him on that leather couch to know that he probably smelled exactly how he looked: dark, rich, dangerous.”

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Warnings/Genre/Rating: Set in the Roaring 20s! Mobster!Hoseok. Singer!Reader. Flapper!Reader. Fluff. Strangers to lovers. Law breaking. Alcohol use. Oneshot. PG-13.

Word Count: 2.7k

Fic Theme Song: My Heart Belongs To Daddy -- Marilyn Monroe

A/n: I recommend listening to the song above to set the mood!~

                               | | Masterlist | |

All of my works are purely fiction. Everything I write is my intellectual property and therefore belongs to me.©out-of-jams. Do not copy or repost without permission.

The air was hot.

Humid.

Stifling.

A bead of sweat drifted down the back of your neck and goosebumps broke out on your flesh as it traveled below the top of your dress. It was one of your favorites: black and short with silver embedded jewels that glittered beneath the low ceiling lights. A tight fitting pearl necklace decorating the bare skin of your neck matched the earrings pierced through your lobes. And the heels on your feet made you taller, though not by as much as you’d like.

“You ready to go again?”

You glanced up from the glass of water clutched in your hands to meet the questioning stare of one of your dearest friends. Kim Taehyung nodded his head towards the stage that took up the whole back wall of the joint. Two women in similar styles of dresses to yours and short cut hair side-eyed him as they walked past. Giggled into their illegal cocktails and whispered behind their hands.

Perhaps if you hadn't known the man at your side before he was old enough to be weaned from his mother’s breast, then you would have sighed with them. Would have fluttered your lashes at the unnecessarily handsome man gifted with a sweet face and even sweeter disposition. You couldn’t fault them for double-taking at his warm chocolate eyes and hair long enough to cover his lightly tanned forehead.

Taehyung’s coral colored, cupid-bow lips tilted up as he tried and failed to hide how he preened beneath their longing stares. Rolling your eyes, you slid your glass of water back onto the high topped table and patted his suit clad arm. “Let’s go before you get snatched up again and I lose my saxophone player for the night.”

“That was only one time!” Taehyung’s amused voice followed you back to the stage and up the three short steps. Chatter from the packed speakeasy hidden beneath the restaurant upstairs filled your ears with familiarity.

The space wasn’t very big. Then again, it didn’t need to be. Not when it sold illegal drinks like newsboys sold papers. Molls and Dolls was one of the most popular joints in town and everyone who was anyone tried to get their names put down on the incredibly long list. The interior was ritzy, filled with expensive leather chairs, polished wooden tables, and imported Persian rugs.

At the side of the place, to the left of the stage, was the bar. Already packed with broads and fellas dressed in clothes so expensive that those who looked wouldn’t doubt that they came with enough dough to buy whatever they wanted. They belonged to the type of crowd that you didn’t. 

You didn’t grow up rich, didn’t have all the possessions you owned bought with daddy’s money. Maybe that was why it was so easy to see past the fronts they wore like cheap, plastic masquerade masks. They wanted people to think that they held all the power, when in reality, they did not. Were just like everybody else when you took away their money and it came down to it.

Nodding at your piano player in a silent motion to urge him to put down the whiskey and pick up the tunes, you approached the microphone center stage. It was cool to the touch as you lightly wrapped your fingers around the stand. The ten minute break you’d taken was exactly what you’d needed to moisten your throat and prepare yourself to sing for the rest of the night.

When a familiar melody started up as your pianist danced his fingers across the keys, you felt your eyes slip closed in bliss. While the rest of the patrons were home to mansions and pricey cars, the stage was where you belonged. The eyes of those who came to watch you sing, to hypnotize them with the words that itched to spring free from your tongue, breathed life into you. And the rhythm of the instruments at your back guided the beating of your heart.

You hadn’t been singing at Molls and Dolls for very long. A year ago was when you’d been approached by the mac who owned the place. He’d caught you the moment you slid from the stage at one of the less infamous underground clubs in the city. Had praised your voice and offered you a slot to sing at his joint every Friday and Saturday night. The only catch was that you could work for him and him only.

The one thing that stopped you from turning him down (how could you live off of working two days a week?) was the hefty wad of cold, hard cash he’d slipped into your palm. A downpayment, he’d said, loose change compared to what you could make with him. Something to give you the incentive to accept.

How R.M.--he never gave out his actual name--really earned the money he got stayed a mystery to you. You knew that the safe in his office was filled to the brim with more bills than you could count; more dough than he could possibly make in an evening. But you never asked. Didn’t need to when he paid you enough to keep the questions from your mouth.

You came to sing, to sip at the drinks you were given and bask in the attention from those who envied you. Who wished they could hypnotize a room with only their voice.

Like now.

You could feel their gazes upon you while you sang and you soaked it up. Tried not to let a smirk capture your red tinted lips when you felt heat boring a hole into the side of your face. Instead, you slid your kohl lined eyes open as the band playing behind you transitioned to fast paced, sexier song.

“If I invite a boy some night To dine on my fine food and haddie.”

Across the room, a pair of dark eyes watched you. They were familiar, and yet not. Belonged to an absolute billboard of a man who looked like he fit more on the cover of magazines sold on street corners, than in the basement of a speakeasy. Hair the color of the scotch he sipped on and skin the same hue as molten honey, he met your gaze beneath heavy brows. His high cheekbones, a strong nose, and jawline sharp enough to cut diamonds were enough to catch many a lingering look.

“I just adore, his asking for more But my heart belongs to Daddy.”

You didn’t even need to see the tag sewed into the jacket of his suit to know that it cost more than you made in a single weekend. Didn’t need to sit next to him on that leather couch to know that he probably smelled exactly how he looked: dark, rich, dangerous. Every single weekend, he claimed the same spot across the room with a handful of other, equally handsome men.

You weren’t sure what they did or why they were there. Why everyone skirted around them like particularly frightened railway mice. R.M. would join them occasionally with friendly handshakes and pats on the back. So it wasn’t very difficult to put the pieces together that wherever he got all of his money from had something to do with those fellas.

Words had never been exchanged between you and the man who watched you perform like you were the only two people in the room. Neither of you had crossed that invisible line that drew itself down the middle of space that divided you. It was an unspoken rule in the game the two of you played. You’d sing as if just for him, and he’d gift you with his attention.

“Yes, my heart belongs to Daddy So I simply couldn't be bad Yes, my heart belongs to Daddy.”

Already hooded eyes seemed to darken even further at the suggestive words that spilled from your tongue. And if you looked close enough--which you always seemed to do when it came to him--the slight quirk of his heart-shaped mouth was a sign of his approval.

“So I want to warn you laddie Though I know that you're perfectly swell That my heart belongs to Daddy Cause my Daddy, he treats it so well.”

Not even the crowd gathered around the front of your stage like meerkats, with their eyes trained on you with rapt observation could pull your own from him. One of the men sitting next to him, a petite looking blond with a soft, pretty face, leaned over to say something into his ear. Not even then did he turn away from you. Just answered his companion without breaking the rules of the game.

“If I invite a boy some night To cook up some hot enchilada Though Spanish rice is all very nice My heart belongs to Daddy.”

The hair at the back of your neck stuck to your skin from the heat that perforated the room due to too many bodies and too little air circulation. But you didn’t pay it any mind, too busy trying to stave off the feeling of disappointment when a man you didn’t recognize approached the men. Cut off your line of sight to the man sitting on the couch. Whatever was said was enough to cause him to rise, press his almost finished drink into the hand of one of his companions and follow the stranger out of the room.

Though the look he sent you before disappearing was a message in and of itself. A silent apology for ending the game before time was up.

The rest of your set up on stage didn’t affect you like it usual did. Failed to provide you with the normal high that accompanied a performance. You tried not to let displeasure show on your face when you departed the stage. The night hadn’t ended, nor would it until the first signs of light began to show as the sun rose over the city skyscrapers. But you were exhausted.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t leave even if you’d wanted to because R.M. had yet to pay you for the weekend. If it were Friday, then you would have just shrugged it off and let it go until the next day. But it was Saturday and you didn’t want to have to come back during one of your off days. Molls and Dolls was too far away from your apartment to hike across the city when you didn’t need to.

R.M. was nowhere to be seen, had disappeared a little while ago according to the bartender who poured you a glass of gin. So sadly, you were left waiting for the man when you weren’t even sure if he would return for the night. Sometimes he would vanish and reappear the next day like nothing had happened. Though you supposed that since he owned the place and all, it was more than acceptable for him to do so.

You just wished that he didn’t do it when you needed to get paid.

Sighing, you pressed the martini glass to your lips and took a hefty sip. The alcohol burned your throat as it slid down, but you didn’t mind it. Not when it lit fire to the blaze itching beneath your skin. Taehyung had disappeared somewhere into the flock of tittering women the moment he’d packed up his saxophone and stepped off the stage.

Left to your own devices, you rested your cheek in the palm of your free hand and surveyed the room. It was still packed wall-to-wall, filled with the sound of chatter and the jazz band who took your place performing. They were talented, good even, but you didn’t expect anything less from someone hired to work for R.M.

“Could I get you another drink, miss?”

Blinking at the sudden intrusion of a voice invading your personal space, you turned to meet the shameless stare of a stranger. He had a face that was all angles and sharp lines with eyes the color of the sky at midday. By the way he carried himself, leaned against the bar like he owned it, you could already tell what kind of man he was. One who thought he could have anything he wanted with the snap of fingers because of the weight of his wallet. Who thought he was the absolute bees-knees.

Raising an eyebrow at the way his gaze lingered on the bare skin of your legs exposed by your dress, you took another sip out of your glass. “I’m still drinking this one.”

“After, then,” he winked. “What d’ya say?”

You hummed before looking pointedly away from him in hopes that he’d get the message without you needing to spell it out. “No.”

“No?” Apparently not. The only thing he got was closer to you as he slid across the bar until his arm brushed your side. “Come on, doll. Don’t be a prude.”

Turning back to shoot him a heated glare, you leaned away from his touch. “Are you deaf?”

He didn’t seem at all affronted by your scoff when he reached up to brush your cheek with his pointer finger. “Can’t say that I am. Now accept my offer before I take it back.”

“Take it back, then.” You jerked your head back until he had no choice but to drop his hand.

“You--”

“I believe that the lady said no.” A voice, deep and raspy and accented with a vocal fry, spoke from over your shoulder. Warmth from a hand pressed to your waist accompanied it, and you found yourself looking back in surprise.

The first thought that came to your mind was that he was a lot taller than he looked from across the room. To the point where you had to crane your head up to take him all in; the sliver of his neck exposed by his expensive suit, a mole beneath his right eye, two dimples that indented either side of his mouth as he pursed his lips in displeasure.

He cocked his head to the side, voice pitched dangerously low. “Don’t make her say it again.”

One glance at the fella who’d forced his presence on you had you raising a brow at how quickly the blood drained from his face. His blue eyes were blown wide, mouth opening and closing like he’d forgotten how to make a sound. He let out a squeak that sounded so incredibly unmanly that you were embarrassed for him, before making himself scarce. Perhaps his reaction should have given you second thoughts about the man who’d come to your rescue, but it didn’t.

It only made you all the more curious.

“I could’ve handled that, you know.”

He looked down at you, took in your playful smile and flashed you one of his own. “I didn’t like his hands on you.”

“But yours is fine?” You questioned, referencing his own hand still on your waist.

He hummed, a deep rumbling sound, and smirked. “You tell me, dollface.”

“I think,” you tilted your head towards the bar, “that you should give me your name and buy me another drink.”

You could feel it then, like the room had shifted.

He barely even had to glance at the bartender for him to make his way over. “You can call me Hoseok.”

Hoseok brushed a stray hair from your face and tucked it behind your ear. It took all you had not to let the way your heart raced from the simple gesture. “And you?”

Your name fell from your mouth and something flashed in his eyes as he tasted it on his lips. Gestured for you to tell the bartender what you wanted.

The rules of the game had changed.

[harrysgoldenline]

Could you please do one where harry and y/n are both famous (actress y/n) and they’ve been together a while and one day while helping him pack cause he’s gonna be gone for a while she finds an engagement ring meant for her and she freaks out about it. It can end however you want! Thank you in advance

Thank you so much for requesting!!! I really hope you like it 💕

Tiny Little Box

“Do you wanna take this?” Y/N asked Harry, pulling out her favorite hoodie of his, a huge smile growing in her face, “or! Can you wear it right now and then I can keep it for when your gone so it smells good?”

He chuckled at her, slowly removing his shirt before holding his hands out and the girl quickly takes it off the hanger and tossing it towards him, pulling it down over his body, “shall I leave you my extra bottle of cologne? He teased, pulling the girl closer to him.

“Yes please!” She sweetly smiles, her arms going up onto his shoulder as his wrap around her waist, pulling her right against him, “Wish you could stay.”

He smirked at her pout, playing reaching his hand up and squeezing her cheeks together, “oh hush.” He laughed, “you have to leave in a couple days for a shoot anyway!”

“I know but if I wasn’t working I could come with you and if you weren’t working you could come with me!” She simply spoke, snuggling her face in his chest, “I just miss you so much Bubby.”

“Miss you more, lovie.”

He reached his hands up, cupping her face and bringing his lips to hers quickly, the two of them smiling softly into it. His hands squeeze tight on her hips, one falling down onto her bum and his fingers dig into it, pushing her closer to him. Her hands sneak up as well, gripping the extra material of the sweatshirt before sliding underneath, feeling his warm skin.

“Jesus, love! Ya hands are ice!” He chuckled, nipping at her neck before stepping away, starting to fold a pair of trousers, “oh! Can you do me a favor and try and find my new book? Coulda sworn it was on my shelf but can’t find it.”

“Of course.” She smiles, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before heading out of their shared bedroom and into his office.

Y/N and Harry had been dating for nearly 3 years, living together for 2 and a half. They moved in rather quickly, with both of them living such crazy, unpredictable lives it only made sense to live in the same place while they got to be in the same place, considering they spent their entire breaks together anyway.

They were truly soulmates, neither had ever been as truly happy as they were now. Y/N and Harry both being at the height of the careers, staying out of drama and having each other, they felt like life was pretty much perfect.

Y/N, also, absolutely adored Harry’s office. She found herself spending quite a bit of time in here when he was away. It was just so... Harry.

It was perfectly decorated, the perfect pops of color and decor, a record player in the corner that nearly always had Van Morrison or Fleetwood Mac. Two large bookshelves next to the back wall, a beautiful seat window in between. It clearly was just so Harry.

Y/N scanned the bookshelves first, whispering each to herself so she didn’t accidentally go over the title she was looking for. After being unlucky with that, she scanned his desk, going through some drawers and under papers, ending up only gathering some trash and gum wrappers she threw in the wastebasket for him.

With an impatient sigh, she moved over to the side table next to the loveseat. Once again, she found herself digging through the deep drawers, filled with trash, lyrics and crumbled up pieces of paper.

Suddenly, she was met with a more different material, a soft yet velvety feel. She hesitantly wrapped her fingers around it, pulling it out of the drawer, swallowing hard at the sight before her.

A tiny little box.

Her mind was running a million miles a minute, wanting so desperately to open it, hoping to see what she was thinking, but also wondering if it was more something a pair of earrings for Valentines Day.

Y/N let out a shaky breath as she begrudgingly opened it, heart practically falling out of her chest as her jaw dropped, seeing the most beautiful ring she had ever seen in her life.

She covered her mouth, tears filling her eyes as her mind was filled with so many thoughts. Harry really wants to marry me? She would think, they of course had talked about it before but it still could not cloud her shock, oh my god, when was he going to-

“Love!” Harry called, emerging suddenly in the doorway, “it was in our bedroom- fuck... you found something else... I guess I mixed up the book and the ring.”

Her eyes were glued on the ring, nearly not even noticing his presence before she suddenly looked up at him and quickly wiped her eyes, shutting the box and setting it down.

“I’m sorry- I was just looking and I found that and I didn’t mean to I swear! I had no idea you... when were you going to-“

“Would you say yes?” He softly interrupted, “do you, uhm.... do you like the ring?”

“Yes!” She rushed, practically jumping on him, “it’s perfect! You’re perfect! I love you so much Harry, I wanna be with you forever.”

“That’s good.” He smirked, kissing her passionately before suddenly pulling away, “but now I gotta make it a surprise! You can’t know when it’s comin’”

“No!” She groaned, her hands coming up to his face, “please! Wanna be engaged, wanna be married already.”

“We will be.” He chuckles, kissing the tip of her nose, “but you need to be surprised, but I must say it’s nice knowing you’d say yes.”

“Of course I would.” She whispered, “can’t you please ask me me now?”

“Nope.” He smirked, giving her hips a tight squeeze making her laugh, “gonna make is all perfect and romantic. Want you crying in the pictures.”

“Can it at least be soon?”

“Sure thing, babe.” He chuckled, kissing her again.

Y/N couldn’t wait for Harry to return and he hasn’t even left yet.