#this is almost feeling like it’ll be the same level of obsession I have with scratch

[candyheartedchy]

I can’t stop drawing him…

[crushmeeren]

♡ Master List Link

➳ Warnings; Mentions of injuries, Cursing, Kissing, Marijuana Use, Vaginal Sex, Dirty Talk, Squirting, Fem Reader

➳ Or: You just want to spend one more easy night with Dabi before the entirety of Japan goes to hell.

Note; this is a completely re-edited, revised, reworked version of my previous Dabi/Reader — I deleted the previous one.

♡ Touya / Fem Reader

It’s almost funny, you think, as you lean against the wall of the Leagues newest hideout. The reason you were convinced to join the A team in the first place—to go a long with Shigaraki’s convoluted plans.

It wasn’t Stain. Hell, it wasn’t even Shigaraki himself. It sure as fuck wasn’t All for One.

No, it was the scarred, absolutely deranged, blue eyed psycho that has daddy issues. The man who creates flames that burn over 2500 degrees celsius at their hottest, higher than Endeavors. The bastard.

To be fair, you didn’t know he had daddy issues when you saw him on TV for the first time. Yet, you saw the emotion in his eyes. Rage.

It flared, crackling brightly—hotter than the flames he produces himself.

It forced something to melt and seep into your bones, making your skin feel too tight, itchy, in an all too familiar way. You recognized another emotion on his face, one you were well acquainted with. Revenge.

You stopped at nothing to seek him out after that. Inevitably, you found him.

Now here you are, watching Dabi make, what equates to, a self-introduction video.

You’ve heard the story from him multiple times, you’ve seen him make the video over and over again. He’s shared his past and you’ve shared yours. You know people say Dabi may not feel much, hell even he says that. They say he’s heartless, cold, insane.

And—he is, but he’s also much more than that to you.

He’s kind to you, in his own twisted way, but he loves you, as much as he’s able to.

Which compared to “normal people” is actually quite a lot. Some would place him on the level of obsessed, unhealthy.

Although, who are you to judge? You act the exact same way towards him. Both of you would incinerate the world for each other, literally.

You also know he wants this video to be his own version of Dantes Inferno, about his journey navigating through hell since he was a kid.

You’ve had many conversations with Dabi about how much of a toll this takes on him. As if he’s weighted down by concrete tied to his ankles. Usually he gets so worked up that smoke ends up seeping through the seams of his staples by the end of it.

Nevertheless, he’s releasing the video tomorrow—whether it’s time for Shiagaraki to wake the hell up or not. No matter what, it’s going to rock the hero society. It’ll crumble the facade they have worked so hard to maintain. You’re lucky enough to know who he really is, the rest of the league, and the world, doesn’t. Yet.

You’re here for support, to make sure he actually gets the video fucking done, before you’re heading off for the day. Doing some sort of asinine errand for the Doc to help keep Shigaraki’s ass alive while he soaks in that vat.

You already decided that later tonight, you’re going make sure Dabi remembers he’s got you to come home too. No matter what happens after the world sees behind the veil.

After some time, you’re still leaning against the wall on the side of the room. Letting little flames ignite from your fingertips, just playing around, having one flame dance from finger to finger.

It’s another thing that had attracted you to Dabi. Even though flame quirks are a dime a dozen, and his flames burn hotter, it made you feel like you were similar, in a way.

Noticing that he’s stopped talking you look up, putting out the flame with a wave of your hand. You watch him walk to the camera to turn it off.

He was shirtless for the video. It shows off how lean he is, but it also shows all the burn scars that cross his chest and torso, up his neck and under his eyes. His hair is white right now and the staples holding him together shine under the light from overhead.

For a beat you remember how cool they feel pressing against your skin when Dabi pins you face down on the bed.

Your body flushes, warmth churning in your belly.

Being in love with a man like Dabi means he takes up most of the space in your brain, running wildly through your thoughts constantly.

To add on it’s not just Dabi you love, it’s Touya too.

You’re desperately aware of the fact that you’re not doing a very decent job of hiding the way your eyes trail his body when he speaks up. His smooth, smoky voice rumbling from his chest.

“You know, it’s rude to stare baby,” Dabi murmurs, inclining his head slightly to look at you. His gaze is sharp but his lips are pulled into a lazy catlike grin.

Embarrassment shoots through you, burrowing into your cheeks. A swarm of butterflies ravages you.

Using your hands, you set them behind you and you push off the wall, trying to form a response. Nobody else but Dabi makes you act like you’ve swallowed your tongue whole.

“Maybe I just like what I see,” you tease, trying to ignore the obvious flush of your chest and neck. Dabi turns to face you as you walk up to him.

You can’t get over the way he looms over you, forcing you to crane your neck to look up at him. The grin never leaves his face. He tugs playfully at a lock of hair that had fallen from your bun, making it seem as if you’ve swallowed cotton balls.

“Oh? You’re one to talk. I could fuck you where you stand and you’d let me,” he flirts, looking oh so casual the whole time.

Dabi twirls the same strand of hair around his finger tightly, before letting it go.

The man radiates fucking heat and it’s a bit like standing too close to a bonfire. It toes the line of too hot, as if your skin would start to melt if you got too close.

Your eyes flutter shut from the familiar warmth, and you taking a deep, steadying breath — willing away the lust that threatens to turn your insides to ash.

You desperately try to remember that now is not the time to let Dabi fuck you silly.

You reluctantly take a step back, only now realizing how close the two of you had gotten. Later, you remind yourself, trying to cool down.

Dabi pushes out his lower lip, pretending to pout.

“Dabi, c’mon, you know I’ve got to go soon. I just wanted to make sure you got this finished today,” you say with hesitation.

Dabi rolls his eyes, no doubt irritated they have you doing bullshit errands. You get it, you feel the same, but you know it’s just less of a hassle to get it done.

It’s not like you don’t want Shigaraki to wake up soon. The crazy, itchy fucker has grown on you.

Besides, you want to get the plan moving and all. Dabi knows this, yet it still pisses him off. He waves a hand dismissively, before turning back to the camera.

“Whatever, go on then,” he bites coldly. Your lips press into a line, the sting of hurt pulsing in your chest briefly.

You shove your hands in your pockets and turn to leave without saying much else. You’re not willing to get into it with him right now, the video has clearly already got him riled up.

Before you can take a step, a blistering palm grabs your forearm, turning you back around. You raise an eyebrow as you meet his intense gaze.

“Yes?” you bite back. Dabi stares down at you, hand trailing down to grip your wrist, wrapping his fingers around as a bracelet. His expression stays sharp, blue eyes piercing.

“Just come back to me tonight, okay?” Dabi demands, an underlying note of concern lacing his tone.

You can’t hold back the smile that pulls at your lips, previous hurt washed away by your adoration for the deranged man in front of you. You nod.

“I will Touya,” you whisper softly.

You tend not to use his real name often, only when you need him to know you’re serious.

It makes his eye twitch, his stomach more often than not twisting in fury when he hears it.

Not with you though. The way his name falls from your lips—he’d be remiss if he didn’t admit it soothes the open wound it’s left behind.

Without another word, Dabi bends down, brushing a kiss over your cheek, letting your wrist go. Your skin tingles where his lips were, the rough texture of his lower one always tickles. You smile softly.

Swiftly you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth in return.

“Love you too, dickhead!” You call out playfully, letting the door swing shut behind you. Dabi scoffs watching you go, but he wears, a small, loving smile at your jab.

He already wishes for the night. As long as can be with you again.

You’re covered in soot and ashes. Smelling like a fucking bonfire gone wrong. The flesh of your hands is singed, stinging, and you curse internally when you curl them into fists.

Generally, it happens when you overuse your quirk. The skin sizzles, steam rising from the reddened flesh. You shake your hands out as you walk, thanking God that it looks worse than it is. It’ll heal relatively quickly.

You’ve managed to procure only a couple bruises though, so you count yourself even luckier. You know Dabi will be fucking pissed either way.

You always have to talk him down from eviscerating the Doc when you wind up coming home banged up from one of his errands.

To top it off, it’s way later than when you normally return from these idiotic missions. It’s well past midnight and you’re sure Dabi is close to committing arson.

The job was a waste of your time. Granted, you admit you may have been a little distracted. You couldn’t stop thinking about the night that lay ahead of you and Dabi.

It’s hard to burn down that many buildings, discreetly, when you’re not focused 100%. You almost got caught at the last building.

Hence the new dark purple splotches covering your left bicep. They throb slightly when you accidentally brush your fingers over them. It’s a miracle you made it out, but you’re not telling Dabi that.

Walking into the front door of the, more or less mansion that is the hideout, you notice it’s quiet in the living room.

None of the usuals that hang out are down here. You look around quickly, thinking maybe you’d catch a glance of Dabi. You scowl when you don’t see his spiky white hair anywhere. You swiped something on the way home, an item that will help the two of you relax. It sits heavy in your back pocket.

You desperately want the two of you to enjoy the night before the world explodes into chaos tomorrow.

You slip your hand into your pocket, just to make sure it’s still there. Your finger tips trace the pre-rolled joints you snagged. You smile coyly to yourself, feeling your heart beat harshly against your rib cage.

A pleasant shiver rolls down your spine as you recall the last time you and Dabi had sex higher than a kite.

Smoking weed isn’t necessarily something you and Dabi do often, but when you get the chance you certainly take advantage of it.

How could you say no? Your body feels relaxed and warm, like your joints are made of butter. The pleasure is always dialed to a 10.

You know Dabi fucking loves it, the one chance he gets to truly relax. You make your way to the stairs as you chew on your bottom lip, mulling over your thoughts.

You’re hoping that once Dabi sees you’re okay, and that you have joints, he won’t be too tempted to set the mansion on fire.

You walk swiftly to your room. You pass by Mr. Compress on the way, the two of you wave in greeting. The sound of your combat boots echo on the wooden floor as you round the corner, stopping at your door.

The door is closed but that’s not unusual. Eagerly, you turn the handle and push open the door. It’s pitch black inside. That…is odd actually. Your grin quickly fades as you step inside, curious, you flip on the low light to the room.

Dabi’s not here. You feel an unwarranted flash of irritation at the realization.

As cliche as it sounds, recently you’ve been finding him playing some sort of game on his desk top computer. You’re not sure he’s ever played one before now and he seems to thoroughly enjoy it. Your chest warms as you think about him getting to experience some sort of normalcy.

However, he’s not at the desk. He’s not anywhere in your room. You shut the door behind you and walk in further. Shoving the feeling of annoyance down your throat, you remind yourself that the villain has got to be somewhere around the hideout.

Hoping he’ll pop up soon you decide it’s best to take a shower. To wash off the layer of disgusting ash you’re covered in.

Setting the joints on your dresser, you strip your nasty clothes off and throw them to the side. You grab one of Dabi’s shirts, one with a skull on it and nothing else before making your way into the en-suite bathroom.

As you stand under the spray of the scalding water, it feels unbelievable. The water acting as a much needed massage for your sore muscles.

You scrub yourself clean, hissing as the soap causes a burning sensation in your hands. You examine the newly pink, sensitive skin of your palms and flex your sore fingers.

The curtain suddenly rips open halfway and you scream loudly, arms flailing wildly. Your head whips to the side, heart in your throat as you see a smug looking Dabi. You place a hand on your chest, pulse thundering.

“You fucking jack ass! You scared the shit out of me! Where the hell have you been?” you shout, angrily flinging water at his face.

Dabi laughs as he brings his hand up in surrender, covering his face from your retaliation. You let out a frustrated noise, quickly turning the water off to face him. You push roughly at his chest, wetting his shirt and he grips the shower curtain with one hand for balance. He’s still fucking laughing.

“I got restless waiting for you. I was with Spinner, who wouldn’t stop yapping about some new video game. I saw Compress and he told me he saw you on your way up. I wanted to fuck with you.” He grins wolfishly, pretending to wipe a fake tear of amusement from his eye. The staples near the corner of his mouth tug at his skin.

You scowl, glaring at him playfully.

“You’re the biggest dick I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting, ya know that?” you chastise him, unable to stop yourself from grinning widely at his relaxed demeanor.

Truthfully, you know nobody else sees this playful side of Dabi. The fact that you’re privy to it, it’s like knowing the world’s greatest secret. You want to put it in a box and keep it safe forever.

“Is that right? And yet, you’re the one who continues to stay with me, princess. I’ve just got you that cock drunk for me, don’t I sweetheart?” You blush violently at his teasing, but there’s absolutely no denying it.

Dabi smirks, taking the chance to let his gaze lazily trail up and down your wet, naked body. Slowly appreciating your form, and biting the tip of his tongue.

You wiggle your eyebrows playfully, popping your hip out, placing your hand there. It pulls an amused laugh from him and he winks at you. The sound of it sets your nerves alight.

Suddenly, you feel Dabi go stock still. The air raises a few degrees as his expression distorts into something feral, his happy mood vanishing.

Your stomach knots up and you shift your weight from foot to foot. You know he’s found the new, rather large, bruises peppering your left bicep. Delicately, he trails his fingers over them with his free hand. You wince.

The sickening scent of burning plastic starts to flood your nose. You glance over, panicking slightly when you see Dabi’s melting the shower curtain in a death grip.

“Touya!” You gasp. “I’m okay, really, I’m fine. Please, look at me baby,” you soothe, gripping his wrist to try and yank him free, but he doesn’t loosen his hold. You place your free hand on his cheek, forcing his manic gaze to meet yours. “It was my fault, I wasn’t paying attention,” you continue in a gentle voice, running your thumb over the scarred flesh under his left eye.

His snowy white eyebrows pinch together, and he lets out a pained sound, hesitantly letting go of the curtain. You swiftly take the opportunity to lace your fingers with his.

You take a peak at the curtain again, noticing a hand print has been permanently melted into it. Touya tugs on your hand harshly, asking for your attention.

He stares intensely at your face, pupils tracking back and forth rapidly, looking wild. When he speaks, it’s as if he’d swallowed a handful of gravel.

“Those goddamn idiots!” He snarls. “Sending you out, letting you get fucked up. If I fucking see that Doc again before Shigaraki wakes up, I’m incinerating him,” he manages to get out through clenched teeth. He’s furious, tone low and menacing.

It definitely does not turn you on.

Touya tangles his fingers through the wet hair at the nape of your neck, squeezing painfully. Your breath catches, scalp tingling.

A torrent of warmth rushes through you, pussy clenching eagerly around air.

It never fails to turn your brain to mush when he’s like this. Protective, possessive. It makes syrupy heat drip down your spine.

You shiver, not just from the chill of being naked, when you realize you’re still dripping wet. Unfortunately, you need a towel.

“I know Touya,” You laugh shakily , wanting to redirect his anger. “ I won’t stop you, promise. Let’s not allow those dumbasses to ruin our night, okay?” You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “I brought a surprise for us to share! So can you be a good boyfriend and please hand me a towel?” You plead, looking at him through your lashes.

Touya doesn’t move for a moment, narrowing his eyes slightly as considers your words, before his expression mellows out. He sighs heavily.

Touya releases his grip on your hair, trailing his rough fingers over your jaw and patting your cheek twice softly. He frees your other hand and turns to grab a towel from the cabinet.

You lift up your arms, very relieved, and wiggle your fingers happily as you wait. Touya sweetly wraps the cloth around your back and crosses it over your chest, tucking it into itself so it stays in place. You beam at him, letting your arms fall to hold it in place.

“Fine. You’ve convinced me not to commit murder tonight. Show me the surprise,” Touya concedes, catlike grin settling into his expression once again. You breathe another sigh of relief, stepping out of the shower. You balance with a hand on his arm.

“I got us joints! I figured some good weed would help us relax and,” you trail your finger over his jaw, biting your lip coyly. You lean in, whispering sensually to him. “I was hoping we could have some fun later, if you know what I mean.”

Standing up straight, you smile smugly, wrapping the towel tighter around yourself, watching his reaction. His head tilts back in delighted laughter.

“That’s the best idea you could’ve had. Let’s go get high out of our minds baby, and then I’ll fuck you into the mattress,” he purrs, grabbing the shirt you left to change into and tugging you along out of the bathroom.

You watch his lean frame from behind, admiring him as he walks. Your man is stupid hot, and you don’t just mean literally.

Once you’re near the bed the two of you release each other. He hands you your shirt and you let your towel unwind, tossing it to the side.

Touya’s hand comes out of nowhere to roughly smack your bare ass. The pain flares, making you yelp.

“Touya!” You scold. “Fuck off for a second will you?” you joke. “Let me at least put my shirt on.” You slip the clothing over your head as you speak, gathering your wet hair into a braid.

Touya snorts. You look at him with a raised brow as he’s taking his own clothes off. Your eyes linger for a moment on the V shape that disappears into his underwear. He winks at you in return when he catches your stare, but you just roll your eyes.

“Why are you even putting clothes on? You know I’m just going to get you naked later,” Touya complains as he crawls onto your shared bed. He leans his back against the headboard. Touya looks at you expectantly, patting the spot next to him as he shoves his long, pale legs under the blanket.

“Yes I know, but I still get cold sometimes, plus I like this shirt, it’s soft,” you reply, picking up the joints from your dresser, turning the overhead light off, and shimmying up the bed to him.

You make it a point to sit so your thigh and arm are squished against his as you recline next him. You use a pillow to support your lower back.

“You know I can keep you just as warm baby,” Touya coos, pulling up the soft fuzzy blanket that covers your bed so you can get your own legs underneath. He lets it rest at your waist.

Touya gently warms the space beneath and you swallow a moan. It feels amazing. Turning your head to look at him, you smile lazily. He wiggles his eyebrows as you hold up a joint to him, urging him to light it.

“I know, and later on you’re gonna make me sweat,” you tease, watching as he smirks.

He doesn’t even pay attention as he uses his finger to light the joint. A little blue flame that instantly eats the paper, setting it alight.

You kiss his cheek in thanks, selfishly taking the first drag. Fuck, it tastes like heaven. A twisted version of lemon flavor bursts across your tongue. It’s sweet, but also bitter.

You let the smoke swirl in your lungs while you hold your breath. Letting it out in a long exhale, the smoke ghosts across Touya’s face. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, groaning as he breathes out.

After a joint and a half in, you’re feeling the perfect level of high. You’re leaning your head on Touya’s shoulder, studying your fingertips.

You’re something akin to the warm butter that melts on top of pancakes. Your head feels fuzzy and you know Touya is in the clouds.

”Baby,” Touya softly calls for you, smooth like whiskey. His honeyed voice sends a shiver down your spine. Your head feels heavy when you lift it, looking at him with a dopey grin.

“Hmm?” you try to ask. Managing to giggle in response. He tilts his head down towards you. He’s wearing a matching lazy grin, his eyes half-lidded.

“Let me shot gun that pretty mouth,” he murmurs, taking the last large inhale from the joint. He holds his breath and puts out the joint on his palm, laying the roach on the bedside table.

You nod happily, stomach unbearably warm as you lean towards him. You let your mouth fall open obediently.

Touya looks sly, meeting you halfway. His different textured lips pressing to yours easily, slightly opened as he slowly pushes the smoke out of his lungs and into your mouth.

Your eyes flutter closed as the tendrils of smoke roll into your mouth. It makes you feel a bit feverish and everything feels like it’s rolling in slow motion.

You inhale equally as slow, taking your time, pulling it into your lungs. It makes you feel dizzy. You hold it for a moment, until your chest starts to burn and then you break from the kiss.

Turning your head minutely, you let it all out in one breath. Your tongue slips out to lick your lower lip, the aftertaste from the joint making your mouth water.

You slide your gaze to Touya’s. He brings his hand up, letting his fingers rest on your jaw as he runs a thumb over the lip you just licked. His eyes burn with a low heat, like embers.

“Feeling high princess?” he whispers, leaning a bit closer, lips only a couple centimeters from yours. He’s gentle, holding your jaw, fingers pressing in on both sides now.

Your eyes are lidded and it feels like his rich voice physically melts through your skin, into your veins. You admire how pretty his face is, feeling your pussy throb. You bite your lip and nod, tickling a hand over his collarbone. He shivers.

“So high,” you giggle and whisper your next sentence, as if you’re telling him a secret. “Will you fuck me now Touya?”

Touya’s fingers twitch before they slide down to wrap around your throat, squeezing lightly. The staples on his wrist scratch at your neck. He’s studying your face, letting his lips pull into a wicked grin as he inches forward, brushing his mouth against yours.

“With pleasure baby girl,” he rumbles, pressing the words into your lips. You moan into his mouth, kissing him slowly over and over.

You’re just starting to lick into his mouth when he puts pressure on your windpipe and you get the message, breaking the kiss with a whine.

He laughs softly as he releases your neck and you shift until you’re lying down flat on the bed, head resting on the pillow.

The change in position makes the room spin and you blink your eyes slowly. You’ve planted your feet on the bed, letting your legs fall open. Moving around makes your shirt rise up to your hips, slick pussy on display for Touya.

You’re vaguely aware of how wet you already are, and it’s too hot in the room, your face heats again and sweat trails down your temple.

The only light in the room is from the TV you had turned on absently. Yet, you can still see Touya’s chest. He has his own light sheen of sweat covering his skin, nipples stiff and perky.

The white haired man maneuvers to get in between your thighs. He sits back on his calves, palms resting on the tops of your knees as he takes a look at your soft pussy.

The sight makes his cock ache, straining to be free from his briefs. He feels his tip positively leaking, sticking to the soft material.

“C‘mere Touya,” you whine softly, reaching your arms out for him. His expression is relaxed, loving as he bends to your will, resting his forearms on either side of your head.

You wind your arms around his neck, pulling him down into another kiss. Your lips slide together eagerly, the heat between you blazing.

His bottom lip is rough but the texture makes you moan every time. He easily slips his tongue inside your mouth, rolling them together, and you bite the delicate muscle briefly.

A husky moan pushes past his lips, causing him to break the kiss.

“Goddammit baby, I wanna fuck you so bad,” he groans, voice wrecked as he sucks dark marks in a line up your neck, gripping the hem of your shirt.

“Please,” you beg, the word sticking to the roof of your mouth. Touya doesn’t hesitate, sitting back momentarily to free you of your shirt, throwing it somewhere behind him.

The air brings a slight chill, making your nipples harden. Goosebumps erupt along your chest and you whine. Touya rests his hands on your soft belly, dick jumping, drooling as he takes in your naked body. His large, warm palms cover most of the skin there, fingers splayed on your ribs.

His eyes are red and glossy as they trail over your tits, noticing your nipples are pretty little pebbles. God, he’s so hard he could cut diamonds.

He quickly shoves his underwear off, the urge to be naked swallowing him whole. His cock bobs free as it catches on the waistband of his briefs. You watch, catching sight of the curly white hair resting just above the base.

He settles again between your legs, gripping his shaft and squeezing briefly for some relief. His own touch feels electric and he moans through his teeth. He knows you’ll feel a thousand times better than his hand.

He’s quick to swipe his thumb between your pussy lips, parting them as he drags it up to your clit, starting to massage slow circles there.

You choke on an inhale, head feeling heavy. Your limbs feel like jello, warmth flowing through you. You hum, reaching out to wrap a hand around the silky smooth skin of his shaft. He lets out a broken moan when you pump his cock, letting his foreskin pull back.

“Touya, c’mon, pretty please? Don’t wanna wait,” you say with breathy sigh. You keep stroking his cock, twisting your wrist upwards and he groans again, sounding breathless.

“You don’t have to ask me twice baby, you know how much I love fucking you,” he purrs, looking exactly like the Cheshire Cat.

He places a hand on each of your inner thighs, spreading you open a little more. You tilt your hips up a little, so you can guide his thick cock inside of you. You tease yourself, sliding his tip over your swollen clit. You let out a low curse as it sends electricity up your spine.

A short whine slips through Touya’s lips as the head of his cock presses in smoothly. Removing your hand, you give him the reigns to do the rest as he stretches your pussy completely. You tilt your head back on the pillow as you start clenching around him.

“Oh,” you say as if you’ve been sucker punched. “Touya, you feel so good!” you cry out, thoughts disjointed. You tremble at the overwhelming pleasure, white knuckling the pillow under you.

You’re sure you could cum just from the stretch of his cock alone, your sensitivity at an all time high. You chance a look at your boyfriend, panting.

His eyebrows are scrunched and he’s gritting his teeth, eyes locked on where he’s disappeared inside you. Warm pussy wrapped around him perfectly.

“Shit,” he curses lowly. “You’re so fucking tight,” he laughs incredulously rocking his hips shallowly.

His own mind is fuzzy, body high so intense he could sob. You lay there and take it beautifully as he starts to fuck you for real, slow and deep.

Your limbs are like lead, and you’ve all but become one with the mattress, the pleasure all you can focus on. The sound of your skin smacking together makes your ears burn. You’re watching the way his fingers grip your thighs, the way the muscles in his lower abdomen flex with every thrust.

“You’re so fucking hot Touya, God - I can’t,” you all but sob. You can’t focus on anything else but the way his cock drags in and out of your pussy. Touya hums softly and leans forward, bracing his hands on the bed, caging you between. You look up at him through your lashes.

“What do you want baby? Hmm? Tell me,” he pants, voice smoldering. Your entire body flushes even hotter. Quirk raising up just below your skin and you keep your hands from the sheets for fear of turning them to ash.

Letting out a low moan, you grip his forearms, he can take the heat of your quirk. He sucks in a breath through his teeth when your scalding palms make contact with his skin.

You’re able to keep it under control for now. You take note of the way your tits bounce with each of his thrusts. He watches them, eyes almost unfocused, unfazed by the blistering heat of your palms, before his gaze locks with yours when you start to speak.

“Want you to fuck me from behind, please,” you mumble, words blending together as you try to keep your eyes open. The pleasure is making your brain feel thick.

“Fuck yes, turn that pretty ass around,” he agrees, leaning back and pulling his cock free. It bounces slightly and you notice he’s glistening from your slick, notching your arousal up by a few degrees.

You don’t waste a second, rolling over onto your belly. The sensation of moving underwater is what you would compare it to.

You raise up on your knees, showing off the curve of your spine as you rest your cheek on the mattress below. The sheets are soft, caressing your skin as you nuzzle against it, distractedly.

You’re gripping the sheets by your head when you feel Touya’s palm crack harshly against your ass,forcing you to jolt forward.

“Ah!” You whine into the sheets. He must’ve heated his hand, because you can feel your ass almost blistering from where he spanked you.

You assume that’s some sort of revenge from what you did to his forearms earlier. Not that it matters, the pain and pleasure mix together even better.

“Look at you, so obedient. You want me to fuck you like a dog, don’t you?” He teases, words sitting heavy on his tongue.

He grips the base of his cock and rubs the head between your lips, parting them easily.

You open your mouth to answer but you’re cut off. He’s already bullying his way back into you without abandon.

Touya grips your hips tight enough you worry he’s gripping the bone. His cock throbs, your pussy feels tighter this way.

It’s making his head spin, watching himself pull out, cock shiny and slick, before filling you once again. His heart thumps hard in his rib cage, thinking about just how much he fucking loves you.

“Oh god.” You shove your face into the mattress as Touya starts to move hard and fast. His cock filling you out perfectly with each thrust.

The friction is blistering, pleasure burning through your limbs. He presses his hands into your lower back, pushing the arch in your spine to its breaking point and he uses his weight to fuck you.

His cock bullies your sweet spot again and again, ripping muffled screams from your throat and into the mattress.

You’re starting to squirm under him, overly sensitive while he pushes you closer to your peak. You unconsciously try to crawl away from him, but he notices. You’ve started to fist the sheets again, for any kind of leverage.

“That’s the spot, isn’t baby? You’re so cute, trying to crawl away from me. You’re not fucking going anywhere. Be good, baby girl,” he demands, huffing lightly. He leans forward to brace one hand on the back of your neck, pinning you down.

He lets his other hand rest on the middle of your lower back, pressing down there too. How you’re able to keep your knees under you is beyond you. The first heavy thrust after that has you wailing, eyes stinging with tears.

“Fuck! Touya, right there, don’t stop,” you beg, feeling small underneath him. The pleasure is overwhelming. It’s not long at all before a knot starts to wind up taught in your lower abdomen, and you struggle to try and warn him.

“Go ahead princess, I’ve got you. Cum for me, I want to feel it,” Touya purrs, bending forward to brace one hand by your head. The other still pining you down by the back of the neck.

The staples adorning his wrist feel cold against your overheated flesh. Oddly enough, the difference in temperature is what pushes you over the edge.

You cum, brutally. Pussy fluttering, gripping Touya so tight you can’t believe he’s still sliding in and out of you. Heat gushes through you in waves, curling your toes.

“Oh!” you gasp, a pressure building in your bladder. “You’re gonna make me squirt,” you say in surprise. Fingernails bite into your skin, warm breath is against your ear.

“Then fucking do it baby,” he breathes, never slowing his pace. A thrill runs through you, fingers curling in the sheets.

Pleasure ripples through you as you squirt. Soaking the sheets and Touya’s inner thighs. Your mouth stays open in a silent scream.

Touya moans in your ear, whispering words of encouragement as he works you through it. You notice his cock start to twitch inside you as you come down from your high.

Touya murmurs sweet nothings against your ear, letting you know he’s about to cum.

You tell him just how much you want it, how much you need to him to fill you up—and he does just that. Pressing all the way in until his balls fit snugly against your pussy. 

Touya cums with a noise that sounds like it’s been punched from his chest. Panting as he nudges your knees out from you, so you both collapse to the mattress.

You both catch you breath for a moment, Touya letting himself go soft before he makes a move to pull out. 

Touya rolls off you gently, onto his back. You breathe a sigh of relief, turning your head to see if his face.

“Are you okay?” he asks, cheeks flushed from the strenuous movements.

“I’m great,” you laugh, poking his ribs. He chuckles, giving you a half smile. “Can you get me a towel? Seeing as it’s your fault I’m a mess now,” you tease. Touya rolls his eyes playfully.

You flip over onto your back as retreats to get a towel, returning swiftly.

”Thank you,” you hum, cleaning yourself the best you can, not bothering to put clothes back on as you get under the blankets.

You sigh happily, turning on your side as the bed dips. Touya settles down facing you, snaking an arm around your waist to tug you closer.

“I love you,” you whisper, trailing your fingers down the side of his face, stopping to press on one of his staples under his eye. 

“I love you,” he replies, just as softly.

”I’ll follow you to hell, you know that, right?” You say, raising an eyebrow. He sighs, leaning forward to brush a kiss over your forehead.

“I know. I’ll incinerate the world for you, you know that, right?” He teases, placing his forehead on yours. You laugh gently, nodding as you kiss him once more.

[mattyriddlegf]

The Stupid Closet (31)

Happy Sunday release day everyone! Only 5 more chapters to release after this one, I can't believe we're almost at the end!

Enjoy!

-----------

It was finally Saturday and your first week of classes was finished. You and Mattheo had studied together in the library a couple times, working on your divination project. It felt so natural to have full conversations with him and joke around although it was awkward at certain times. The two of you were adjusting to a new normal.

The group decided yesterday to hang out tonight, it’s been too long since all of you have gotten together and you all were feening for some quality time and alcohol.

You were in Draco and Blaise’ dorm for the first time since you and Mattheo broke up and it felt weird. While the two of you were on decent terms, the room alone took you back to that night. The night you first kissed him.

You’re in the room alone, trying to get the last bottle of vodka Draco had stashed in the closet. The very same closet. Blaise and Theo were getting more alcohol, Pansy was getting ready for the party (she had an obsessive need to look perfect for every event), and Draco was talking to Professor Snape or something so you were in the room alone at the moment.

You reach your arm up, trying to grab the bottle off the top shelf but Draco had pushed it to the back corner so it was out of your reach. You left your wand back in your dorm so magic wasn’t going to work…

You continue to reach, standing on your tippy toes until the door opens, Mattheo walking in.

You glance his way for a moment before you turn back around and continue trying to reach until he walks up behind you, touching your back lightly and grabbing the alcohol. 

“Thank you” you mutter out as he brings the bottle down to your level. Your faces are only inches apart as you both touch the vodka bottle, the only thing between you two.

“Sure” he whispers as he looks between your eyes and lips, “this feels familiar”

You look up to him and he has those eyes. THE eyes. The ones that say ‘I need you right now’.

“Stop looking at me like that” you say quietly, just above a whisper.

“Like what?” He asks, smirking.

“Like that.” You can barely hear yourself respond.

The eye contact was giving you goosebumps making you realize just how much you missed it. 

“You look good” He says as you part your lips.

“But-” You start to say before he grabs your cheek and connects your lips with his. The instant this happens, you melt. God you had missed this.

The kiss was soft and slow, you could feel every way your tongues danced together. It carries on, slow and sensual for a good minute or two before you pull away, “Mattheo…”

He raises his eyebrows waiting for you to explain yourself.

“I can’t. I’ll fall right back and-”

“Why is that such a bad thing?” He asks, his voice soft.

Before you can respond, Blaise, Theo, and Draco walk in with alcohol forcing the two of you to back away from each other. Theo seems to notice but continues talking to Blaise like nothing happened.

Pansy and Daphne walk in just moments later and immediately Pansy is reciting the gossip she just heard in the hallway walking here. As this happens, Theo finds his way to you, “Wanna tell me what happened with you two?” 

You glance across the room and see Mattheo looking back at you, “we kissed, it was nothing”

“It wasn’t nothing in the fall…” he trails off, looking at you. You had always found Theo’s dead eyes to be so beautiful…that and his italian accent.

“I don’t know” you turn towards him, “this is all just really weird”

“I know how to help” Theo states before he walks off and grabs a full bottle of liquor, “forget it ever happened”

“I like the way you think Nott” you smirk before taking the bottle out of his hands and taking a large swig of the alcohol. It burns going down but you know that it’ll kick in pretty soon and you’ll completely forget about the kiss.

An hour later and you were all playing strip poker. You had lost your shirt but everyone had decided to ultimately gang up on Draco and he was practically naked by now.

You get up from your spot and stumble your way over to Mattheo’s spot, reaching for the bottle in his hands.

“I think you’ve had enough” he says, bringing the bottle out of your reach.

“No I haven’t” you pout, still trying to reach for it. 

“Oh really? How many fingers am I holding up?” he asks. He holds up his hands but your vision sways a little bit so you give him your best guess.

“Six” you slur, holding your own fingers up.

“I only have one hand up. You’re done for the night” He stands up and grabs you by the arm, guiding you to the door of the dorm, “Theo can you help? She’s drunk, I’m taking her back”

Theo stands up and guides your back. The two of them lead you to your very own dorm. Once the door is open, you run to your bed and lay down on your stomach. Mattheo sighs as Theo starts walking up to you, “wait.”

This stops Theo in his tracks, “Let me do this. Please.” Mattheo pleads to him.

Theo looks between you and Mattheo for a moment before snapping his eyes shut and rubbing his forehead, “alright fine but-”

“I know” Mattheo finishes his sentence as Theo walks out. He hesitates for a second before he shuts the door.

Mattheo walks over to you and lifts you off your bed but you resist, wanting to sleep, “nope, you gotta change first”

He sits you up but leaves you sitting on the bed as he shuffles through your dresser drawers, finding something for you to wear to bed.

He comes back with the very same shirt you had kept of his. As he tries to put it on you, lifting your arms over your head you respond, “not this shirt”

“Why not?” he asks, not stopping trying to get it on.

“Because it smells like you” you slur, pointing at him. He continues putting it on, even with you being difficult, “it makes me want to sleep with you”

He tries to hide his little smirk as he laughs, “Is that right?”

“Yup. I couldn’t give it back because I love it too much” He was desperately hoping you would replace the ‘it’ with ‘you’. I love you too much is what he wanted to hear.

“It looks better on you anyways” He responds. You close your eyes, suddenly sleepy, “let's get you in bed, yeah?”

As you lay down and get under your sheets, you say, “Matty”

“Yeah?” 

“I liked the kiss. I miss you.” 

He hesitates before responding, “me too”

You close your eyes to go to sleep and only a moment later do you feel him lean down and kiss your forehead before walking out and shutting the door. 

It doesn’t take you long to fall asleep, Mattheo’s kiss invading your dreams. It was happening all over again.

taglist: @helendeath @mayamonroem @hatakemrs @swamp-box @iamdnb @cindyss @gillybear17 @princessluvssleep @feistyfox47 @malydiavsss @schaebickel @anime-tomicfox

[love-and-chaos24]

Belle Thompson's (ikevil oc) life after Williams route.

“Oh, I see there’s an alternative version of me and that goes insane. Well, I’m sure I won’t go insane myself.” Oh you are dead wrong Belle. You loose a few marbles on the way but it’s okay because you’re basically happily married (not technically). Here is Belle Thompson’s life in her canonic route with William.

Before William she was very shy and scared of doing the wrong thing. But ever since she fell in love with William and he accepted her love, she’s completely changed. (Ignoring the murderous tendencies), she has grown to be very confident in herself and holds a sense of power and control in the air wherever she goes. It’s almost like she carries a part of William deep inside of her.

When they became an official couple, think of their whole dynamic as Morticia and Gomez from the Addams family. Who’s Morticia and who’s Gomez? We don’t know! They’re both basically obsessed with each other to an unhealthy level. (I mean, they both want to die for each other and daydream about their deaths so that should explain a lot)

Compared to the other versions of herself like Lamb or Izadore, Belle is extremely possessive almost to a yandere level. And it definitely doesn’t help that William absolutely loves when she’s like that. After all, he’s the same way himself, he just hides it better. They’re not that extreme where they’ll actually kill someone for talking with either one of them but they will shoot murderous glances if you try anything.

As for pet names and nicknames, they absolutely love using them on each other, the classic pet names specifically like love or dearest. (Spoilers for the epilogue) even though regular MC wants to call William “Will”, Belle does not want to do that. She’s met other “Will’s” before and William is not like them at all. He’s William and no one else. Instead, she always calls him “my love”. When the random girl clung to his arm and called him “Will”, Belle went to him in private and said. “They may call you ‘Will’ or whatever they’d like. It does not matter to me. But don’t ever allow anyone to call you ‘my love’. You are mine and no one else’s. Only I am allowed to call you that.” And of course he fell in love with that cause he’s just as equally crazy.

Whenever William does something that frustrates Belle, she calls him a “cruel man” (she doesn’t really get frustrated, it’s more of a lovingly annoyed). Like whenever he teases her she always says “Oh you cruel, cruel man” and then kisses him all over (it’s really adorable)

Belle wants to marry William as soon as she can before her time comes so she won’t regret never being able to call him her husband. He also wants that too. On one hand, he hopes their end comes before they properly marry to make his ending even more tragic than it’ll already be, but he doesn’t want Belle to be sad they never get to marry so they try to get married as quickly as they can.

Every once in a while, Belle gets sad when she thinks about the fact that they will never grow old together. She always has to explain to William that she doesn’t regret her choices or being with him. She never will. It’s more like her mourning the life she’ll never have. It becomes worse when she sees an elderly couple and begins to imagine her and William like that only to remember they’ll never reach that point.

I feel like if past Belle got to see now Belle, she’d be horrified and try to runaway from this fate of hers. All she’d see is a monstrous version of herself she doesn’t want, but no matter what, she’d wouldn’t be to pull away from William. She’ll always be drawn to him. (It’s not that bad if you don’t mind being mentally insane. You get a sweet, loving “husband” in the process)

[vesperpharsalius]

hey, i'm new to here so i dont know if someone asked you to same question so, sorry to bother. may i ask if you countinuing your fic ice and fire? as i say i'm kinda new and i dont know your update schedule or smth. have a good day!!😚

Well... welcome to my corner of the hellsite! Happy to have you. Please always feel free to send me messages and asks; my inbox is always open—and I don’t mind repeating myself in the slightest, lol. A fan could never bother me.

😘

So, there really is no underestimating or underselling how passionate I am about Ice and Fire and Alis Aquilae, generally, which is the collective name for my planned Bellonaverse. Words, quite simply, fail me whenever I try to convey the depth of my obsession.

Let me just say this—if, for whatever reason, this project is abandoned, it will be for one reason and one reason only: I am dead. Mourn me. Remember me fondly. Because nothing but death itself could keep me from finishing it—and, indeed, it may very kill me. I have reached a terminal level of freak and am likely committing acts of hubris in this endeavor from which I may never recover. But goddamn it, kitten—we are finding this Northwest Passage and exploring Darrow’s southwest passage, too.

The good news is that the bulk of I&F is already rough–drafted. When I first started posting, about fifteen months ago, I thought it was closer to being done and that I’d only need to do some final touches on each chapter before I published it, and… yeah. No.

🤡

Extensive rewriting and revising and polishing has delayed progress significantly; I never thought it’d take more than a few months to finish this, tbh, and it’ll be two years, come July. And, hell, I’m not even halfway through; fourteen—out of 150? To say nothing of the supplementary fics that I’ve planned for AA, written from the perspective of other characters that will complement the main trilogy; these will be about 50k apiece. 

Which is not exactly… inspiring.

😬

I also completely underestimated how distracting feedback would be. It’s difficult—almost impossible, really—for me to focus on I&F itself when I have so many wonderful comments and messages and asks that I could be answering instead, because I enjoy discussing my fics far more than I enjoy writing them, if I’m honest.

It’s the instant gratification of it all. And, y’know—the praise kink. It’s kinking. 

That said, I’ve decided to change the paradigm a bit. What I’m going to be doing hereafter is batches of twenty–five; so, I’ll write twenty–five chapters, release one (or maybe two) a week, go on hiatus while I write the next twenty–five chapters, and so on. The first batch will be much smaller, only eleven, as I’ve already posted fourteen. 

The hiatuses will only apply to the trilogy, though; I’ll throw y’all a different bone to chew on while you’re waiting. The first one will be the final chapters of MTB; after that, though… we’ll start digging into AA’s supplementary fics that I promised and some independent Cassius–centric stuff, too.

Hopefully, this will increase my productivity to a more satisfactory rate and give y’all some consistency in your lives. Really, it’s cruel what I’ve done: all this suspense, these empty promises of updates and responses and sex so torrid that a single read will permanently alter your brain chemistry and damn you straight to superhell.

They should try me at the Hague for this.

At my current pace, I should be able to wrap up I&F by the end of 2025 and get started on the sequel, which is still in the conceptual phase right now. At the very least, though, this series will be ongoing for the next three years.

So. Here’s hoping y’all don’t get too sick of me. 

You can expect Chs. 15–25 of I&F to start getting posted in a few weeks. I’m gonna chain myself to it. I may or may not release Ch. 15 on its own, as it’s 95% done; right now, I’m inclined to save it for the group. 

But... you never know. I have been known to lie.

Thank you for the ask, for your patience, and for being such a good sport as I edge you. What can I say?

In typical Cassius fashion, he’s taking his damn time.

Stay tuned. 

[atlafan]

Open Door Policy - One Shot

a/n: so, I love a good professor!harry fic, but I don’t always love when he gets involved with a student, so y/n is his TA. He’s 26, and she’s 23, so not too weird, right? Anyways, this took me a few days to write, and I didn’t mean for it to be this long, but here we are. This is a slow burn fam, like...buckle up. Reblogs are always very kind and helpful! Not proofread. 

Warnings: angst, fluff, and smut! 

Words: 21.5K 

It was Y/N’s second year in grad school. She knew how to handle her workload on top of still making time for fun. She was still able to go out to the bar, and party with her friends. However, she was serious about her research. She had a “big girl” apartment that she shared with two friends, each having their own room. Grad school was expensive, and even though she had a decent job working at the local café, it wasn’t enough to cover her bills. Luckily, she got a grant to be TA this semester, which was perfect because she was interested in teaching at a collegiate level at some point. Her excitement dwindled slightly when she got the email about what professor she’d be paired up with.

“Who is it?” Nessa asks, plopping down on the couch with her.

“Dr. Styles.” Y/N groans.

“Tell me, why is that a problem?” Charlotte asks, coming over with a bowl of popcorn so they could start their movie night. “He’s so fucking hot.”

���Exactly! How am I supposed to concentrate?! I had him my senior year for an elective and it was awful. I was flustered all the time. He’s such a nice guy too, I missed a class where we had a test and he let me make it up, no questions asked.”

“Great, so he’s a good professor to learn from.” Nessa says. “Oh, maybe you’ll get a closer look at some of his tattoos.”

“There’s nothing to be nervous about, Y/N, he’s only a few years older than us, you know?” Charlotte shrugs. “Maybe you’ll fall in love.” She teases her.

“Mhm, yeah, because I’m sure a guy who has his PhD in Computer Science is just dying to go out with a girl who’s only a TA so she can afford her last year of school.”

“What class are you even helping him with? You’re not specializing in CS.” Nessa says.

“Apparently it’s for the section of Web Expressions he teaches, that was the class I took with him. It was really easy, you just learn the basics of HTML and then build your own website.”

“Did you just say that was easy?” Nessa scoffs.

“My older sister ended up helping me a lot because she had a myspace back in the day, I guess you needed HTML for that.” Y/N shrugs. “It’ll be a good experience for me.”

“Okay, but you’re just specializing in Curriculum and Instruction, so-“

“Yeah, that involves Instructional Design, so I know about this stuff. I’m just not looking forward to doing it with him.” She sighs.

“Could be worse.” Charlotte smirks. “You could have gotten with some old fart who would let you flounder.”

“Very true.” She closes her laptop and sets it on the coffee table. “Alright, let’s get this HSM party started.”

//

A week later Y/N received an email from Dr. Styles to meet with her so they could discuss the class and make sure they were on the same page about the syllabus. She was a nervous wreck. Y/N used to avoid his office like the plague, too afraid to be alone with him. It’s not that Dr. Styles was a creep or ever put off any inappropriate vibes, he just had this sort of intimidating stare to him. Even when he’d laugh, seeing him soften was intimidating. The sound of his deep, raspy voice was almost a little too soothing, and she was obsessed with his sense of style. His nails were always painted different colors, and he had the cutest pair of round glasses that would sit on the tip of his nose.

Even though it was August, and still very hot out, Y/N wanted to make a good, professional impression. So, she decides on a pair of white slacks that have a tie in the front, a white tank top tucked in, and a navy blue three-quarter sleeve blazer. It was too humid to leave her hair down, so she puts it up in a cute, messy bun. She puts on a little makeup, grabs her laptop bag, and out the door she goes. She puts her sunglasses on immediately, almost getting blinded by the blazing sun.

She had never been in an academic building at this point in the summer. There were a few faculty puttering around, getting their offices situated for the semester. She smiles at a few of them as she takes her sunglasses off. She heads up to the third story where Dr. Styles’ office was. There was no a/c in this building, but luckily the room they’d be teaching in would have it due to all the computers.

His door was open, and she nearly walked right by him. She back peddles and already feels weak kneed. He had his glasses on, pushed closer to his face than usual, a small fan on his desk blowing the hair that wasn’t in the little sprout on the top of his head back, and he was wearing a white t-shirt.

“Um, Dr. Styles?” She nervously taps on the outside of the doorframe. He looks up from his computer and smiles.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

“Yes.” She smiles back at him.

“Come on in, have a seat.”

It was the accent, that fucking British accent that she remembered was the most distracting part about him. He had this drawl to his voice that was irresistible.

“Do you want me to, um…” She points to the door.

“No, no, too bloody hot to have that thing closed. The little window I get barely opens so I only have this fan to really keep me cool.” He frowns slightly at her appearance. “Why’d you get so dressed up? You must be sweltering.”  

“I’m okay!” She blushes, and takes the seat in front of his desk. “I just…you know, wanted to look nice.” His eyebrows raise slightly. “I mean, like, not nice, but professional.”

“Well, don’t feel like you need to be dressed up like this all the time. I want you to be comfortable. You don’t see me all dressed up.” He smirks.

“You’re a tenure-track faculty, you can do whatever you want.”

“Not true.” He leans forward and rests his chin on his palm. “I can’t call a student an absolute moron when they ask me a stupid question.”

“I thought there were no stupid questions.” She smiles.

“God, there’s tons.” He scoffs and sits up straighter. “But we have to encourage students to speak up when they’re confused, so.” He shrugs. “Anyways, let’s look at the course, yeah?”

“Okay.” She takes her laptop out and sets it on his desk, scooting closer.

“I added you to the moodle page, so you should have full access to everything. You’ll be grading a bit, so I wanted to make sure you knew how to get in there.”

Once Y/N logs in, and clicks into the course, she smirks.

“What?”

“Looks at the exact same.”

“What do you mean?”

“I actually, uh, took this class with you a couple of years ago.” She furrows her brows at the page. “You know, you should really update this, it’s lazy to use the same design year after year.” She sort of says it without thinking and then feels embarrassed when she looks back up to meet his intimidating gaze.

“Interesting, usually I’m good with names…yours doesn’t ring a bell at all.” He looks at his own computer and crosses his arms. “And it’s not that I’m lazy, I don’t have a lot of control over the physical design. The assignments are much different, those I keep fresh.” He turns to look at her again. “I also teach eighteen credits worth of courses, I don’t exactly have time to sit and revamp all of them.”

“Well, maybe I could do that. I’ve taken a lot of Instructional Design courses.” She says brightly. “Studies show that students do better when their course pages are more inviting.”

“Alright, since you’re the expert, I’ll let you take the lead on that. Can we get back to the material itself? I have to make sure you know what you’re doing.” He squints at her. “You really took this class?”

“Yes.”

“And I was your professor?”

“Yes, Dr. Styles.”

He plucks his fingers over his lips.

“I feel bad for not remembering you.”

“It’s okay, I sort of kept to myself. You late me retake a test that I missed once, though.”

“Oh!” He snaps his fingers. “You missed class because you had a bad stomach bug.”

“Yeah.” She blushes.

“Poor thing, those are the worst when you don’t have mum around to help take care of you.”

“It’s alright, I recovered.”

“Clearly.” He smiles.

They spend the next hour or so going over the course and the materials. He tells her what he’ll need from her specifically. He’ll do most of the teaching, and she’ll bebop around helping students with questions. Oh, and grading, she’ll be helping with a lot of grading. He notices her wipe some sweat from her brow, and he frowns.

“Do you want a water? I have some in the fridge.”

“That would be great, thank you.”

He wheels over to his mini fridge and tosses her a water bottle. As she takes a sip, she notices him still looking at her.

“You can take that off, you know?”

“What?”

“Your blazer.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m, uh, only wearing a tank top underneath and I wouldn’t feel comfortable being so…exposed.”

“Oh!” He blushes. “I’m sorry, I hope my comment didn’t-“

“It’s fine.”

“I just hope you know I wasn’t trying to-“

“I didn’t.” She clears her throat. “So, I have full reigns to redesign some things?”

“Sure.” He shrugs. “Just as long as I can still navigate it.”

“Isn’t your PhD in Computer Science? You should be fine.” She closes her laptop and sticks it in her bag.

“Right…” He pulls his calendar up on his computer. “What’s your class schedule like?”

“With this one, I only have one other class that’s in person, the rest are online.”

“Perfect, then it should be easy to build in some office hours for you. We’ll have to share mine, I hope that’s alright. Not every TA gets their own office, but there’s plenty of room in here for two. This office actually used to have to people in it, I’m having a small desk brought in for you.”

“Oh, um, thanks. I also work a lot at the café down town, but it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“You work at Bento’s?”

“Yeah.”

“I go there all the time, how have I not seen you?”

“I work in the back as a baker.”

“Oh cool, I actually worked in a bakery when I was younger.”

“I know.” She rolls her eyes. “You used to mention it all the time in class.”

“I did?”

“Yes.” She chuckles. “You made it sound like so much fun it’s actually what made me apply to Bento’s in the first place.”

“Ah, well, glad I could help.”

They decide on the office hours that will work best, and then he dismisses her. Just as she’s about to leave, he says her name.

“Yeah?”

“When it’s just us feel free to call me Harry. You and I don’t need to be so formal, alright?”

“Okay.” She smiles. “See you next week.”

The second she gets outside the building, she rips her blazer off. She gets back to her apartment as quickly as possible, changes into a bathing suit, and gets in the pool outside. Charlotte and Nessa were already out there, sitting on chairs in the shade. Y/N gets out and towels off, sitting down with them.

“Needed to cool off after your time with Dr. Styles, huh?” Charlotte winks at her.

“Shut up.” Y/N nudges her friend. “It was so fucking hot in his office. I know it’ll cool down eventually, and I was also way overdressed. He only had a t-shirt and jeans on.”

“Did he remember you?” Nessa asks.

“Not at first, but of course he remembered the reason I missed class was because I had a stomach bug, how embarrassing.”

“Why is that embarrassing?” Charlotte asks.

“I don’t want him to think about me being all…icky.”

“Do you seriously still have a crush on him?” Nessa asks.

“It’s not a crush, he’s just insanely attractive. He looked so cute being all casual today.” She whines. “It doesn’t matter, he’s twenty-six and probably has a girlfriend or something, how could he not?”

“I don’t know, I wouldn’t wanna date a guy smarter than me. He probably man-splains all the time.” Charlotte says. “I bet he’s good for a quick fuck, and that’s about it.”

“I guess Y/N will find out.” Nessa giggles.

“You two are the worst.” She groans.

//

“Hey, Y/N!”

Y/N was in the back at Bento’s getting some bread proofed and ready for the morning crew. One of her coworkers was calling for her.

“Yeah?”

“There’s some guy out front asking for you?”

“What?” She wipes her hands on her apron and walks out front. She freezes when she sees Harry. She had a hairnet on, her face was laced with sweat, and she smelled like bread, which you would think would smell good, but it doesn’t. It had been a couple of days since their meeting.

“Sorry, had to see it for myself.” He smirks.

“See what, Dr. Styles?” She walks around the counter to speak with him.

“Harry.” He corrects her. “See you in action, of course.” He takes a sip from his drink. “I see you’ve already made some changes to the course.”

“Yeah, uh, it was pretty easy.”

“Well, it looks fantastic. I was going to email you, but I was stopping in here and I thought I’d see if you were working so I could just tell you in person.”

“Oh.” She blushes. “Thank you, that means a lot.”

“Well, I’ll let you get back to it. Don’t wanna get you in trouble.” He waves as he leaves, and she stands there stunned.

“Who the fuck was that?” Her coworker asks.

“Um, I’m his TA this semester. He wanted to tell me I did a good job on something.”

“Oh, shit.”

“What?”

“He’s gonna fuck you.”

“Stop!” She swats her hand at them. “Go take drink orders, I’m going back to the proofer.”

Harry was just being nice, and maybe he was looking for a good laugh. She shakes the thought from her head, he didn’t want to fuck her. He was way more professional than that.

//

On her first day as a TA, she decided on a pair of jean capris, and a light blouse. She left her hair down since it wasn’t humid. She felt more like herself, which was good. She goes to her now shared office with Harry first, just to drop her things off.

“Good morning.” She says shyly as she comes in. The small desk he had brought in for her was there, and there was a small plant waiting for her on it.

“Morning, Y/N, are you excited?”

“More so nervous, but yeah. What’s this?” She points to the plant.

“Got you a little something for your desk. It’s really easy to take care of, should only need water once a week.”

“Oh, thank you.” She tucks some hair behind her ear and sits down.

“Since it’s syllabus week, today will be really easy. We’ll go over a few things and then I’ll probably let them go early.”

“Alright.”

“I’ll give you a couple of minutes to introduce yourself too.”

“Okay.”

“Do you have a water bottle with you or anything?”

“Yeah, right here.” She takes it out of her bag.

“Great, a little trick I learned when I first started teaching is that sometimes you can end up answering a question you ask the students because you’re so nervous when no one answers right away. So, if you take a moment to take a sip of your water it gives them more time to speak up.”

“Thanks, that’s a really good tip.”

“You’ll do great.” He looks down at his watch. “Come on, we should head to the classroom, make sure all the computers are working.”

Y/N nods and follows him out. Her eyes drift down to how his butt looks in his khakis. He had a simple green t-shirt tucked into them. He was effortlessly handsome. The cool of the a/c in the computer lab helps snap her out of ogling. After they check the rows of computers, only one wasn’t working, so Y/N takes a DO NOT USE sign onto it.

“Brilliant.” He says to her.

Students start trickling in, and choosing their seats. The class was mostly boys, and only a couple of girls. Unfortunately, that was typical for courses like this, even if it was just a gen ed that literally anyone could take.

“Morning everyone, I’m Dr. Styles, and I’d prefer you call me that. I worked a long time to be called that, so please don’t call me by my first name. You can call me professor, though, if you feel comfortable.” He smiles at the class. “We’re very lucky this semester, I have a TA that will be able to help you with assignments.” He gestures to Y/N.”

“Hi, yeah, my name’s Y/N, you can feel free to just call me that. Um, I’m in my second year of grad school. I’m studying curriculum and instructional design. I’m excited to be with you all this semester.”

Y/N takes a seat to the side of the room while Harry pulls up the course and the syllabus on the projector.

“Now, who here is a CS major?” Most of the class raises their hand. “Right, try branching out for your gen eds, your eyes will bleed if you don’t.” He jokes. “What about those of you who aren’t CS, just shout it out.”

“Communication.”

“Undecided.”

“IT.”

“Psychology.”

“Wonderful, glad we’ll have a little bit of variety. Y/N redesigned this class, so I’m hoping you’ll appreciate what she’s done to make things easier for you.”

Y/N takes attendance, and then sits back down so Harry can go over the syllabus and explain some of the more intricate assignments. He also explains his door is always open for anyone that needs extra help. He wanted to make a good impression since he knew some of the students would end up in some of his higher level courses.

“Please take some time to go over some of the basic codes and short cuts we’ll be using quite a bit. For our next class we’re going to work on a site together, alright?” There’s a hum of agreement throughout the class. “Great, and just so you know, Y/N will be doing the majority of the grading, so it’s not my good side you’ll want to be on, it’s hers.” He grins. “Alright, you’re all dismissed, enjoy the nice weather.”

Everyone files out, and Y/N takes a deep breath. She walks with Harry down to his office and she plops down in her seat.

“Seems like it’ll be a good group.” He opens one of his drawers. “Here, forgot to give you a key. You can come here whenever you want, feel free to do your homework if there’s nothing to be graded.”

“Thanks.” She takes it from him and puts it on her key ring. “It’ll be nice to have a quiet space, actually. One of my roommates is getting her master’s in theater education, and my other roommate is getting her master’s in music education, so it gets kind loud from time to time.”

“Then definitely come here anytime you like.” He smiles and sits in his chair.

“When does your next class start?”

“I’ve got about an hour or so before I need to go back to the computer lab for my computing fundamentals class. I teach two sections of that back to back. Then that’s it for today.”

“Does it get annoying to teach the same class back to back?”

“Not really.” He shrugs. “I’m used to it by now anyways.”

“Dr. Styles?” A female student taps on the outside of the door. “How was your su…oh, you’re in here with someone.” She frowns.

“I sure am, Melanie.” Harry seems to look a little nervous. “I’ll be rather busy today, but we can catch up soon, alright?”

“Oh, okay.” She glares at Y/N before leaving. Harry sighs heavily once she’s gone.

“That’s one of my frequent flyers.” He rolls his eyes. “Her and a couple other girls try to come by and chat…” He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m actually kind of glad you’ll be around, I’ve seen her fly out of here so fast.”

“Does she…have a crush on you or something?”

“I’m afraid so.” Harry sighs. “It’s partly why I keep my door open when I meet with students. I used to keep it closed to have some privacy, cause sometimes there’s personal things students want to talk about, but she came in last year…I don’t know, I just keep my door open now.”

“That sucks.” She turns to her laptop to start getting some work done. “Such is the life of the hot, young professor, unfortunately.” Once again, Y/N said something without really thinking about it. She really needs to work on a filter. When she turns around to look at him to apologize, he was looking at her, face flushed. “I’m sorry, I just meant-“

“I have some emails to catch up on, so I’m gonna put by earbuds in and just focus on that.”

Y/N nods and turns back to her computer. She sighs heavily. The last thing she wanted to do was make the poor guy feel more tense than he already did. It must be painfully awkward to have students throwing themselves at you all the time, and what’s worse is that he feels so uncomfortable that he feels like he can’t even close his door. Y/N wanted to know what exactly Melanie did. It couldn’t have been so bad because she was still coming by to see him. Maybe Harry just picked up on a vibe, and got ahead of the problem before it got worse.

Forty or so minutes later, Harry tells Y/N he’s off to class, but she can feel free to stay if she wanted. She smiles and continues working on a paper she already had assigned for one of her courses. It was really nice to just have a space to work.

“Dr…oh…is this not Dr. Styles’ office anymore.” The girl standing in the doorway frowns.

“Oh! No, it is. He’s teaching right now. I’m his TA, Y/N, so we’re sharing. Can I help you with anything?”

“No, um, I was just coming to say hi, but I’ll catch him later.”

“What’s your name? I can tell him you stopped by, then he can email you or something.”

“It’s Bridget, and he doesn’t need to email me. I was just coming to say hi and chat about summer.” She sighs. “Sorry to bother you.”

Before Y/N can say it wasn’t a bother, the girl is gone. Harry really seemed to have a fan club so far. Y/N had professors she loved, but it was the first day of classes, she never went around trying to catch up with them. She decides to close the door a bit, maybe if people came by they would just assume he wasn’t there.

Y/N’s eyes start to feel droopy. It hits her that she’s been up since four this morning, having pulled an early shift at Bento’s. She decides to cross her arms on her desk, and rest her head on them. Her music was playing softly in the background, and her eyes eventually flutter closed.

Harry comes back from his second section of Computer Fundamentals and is confused when he sees his door only open a crack. He opens it the rest of the way and stops short when he sees Y/N resting peacefully. He wonders how long she’s been asleep for. He didn’t want her to be too groggy. He also knew some students from his previous classes may stop by for some clarification, so as he much he didn’t want to, he had to wake her up.

“Y/N?” He says softly, tapping her on the shoulder.

“Mm?” She grunts.

“Gotta wake up, love.”

Her eyes snap open. She sits up and watches him as he sits at his desk, pulling some papers out of his bag. She knew it was a pet name often used where he was from, but holy mother of God did it sound good hearing him call her that.

“Sorry, I…oh wow, I slept for way too long.”

“You didn’t seem so tired this morning, are you feeling alright?”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine. I worked an early shift at the bakery this morning, so it must just be catching up with me.” She stretches her arms out. “I think I’m gonna head out now. Oh, some student named Bridget came by earlier, but you were in class.”

“Alright.” He sighs. “Thanks, see you Wednesday.”

“See you Wednesday.” She smiles, gathers her things, and heads out.

//

At the end of the first week of classes, Harry was exhausted. It was always like this by the time that first Friday hit. The faculty meeting was the most draining part of it. He didn’t subject Y/N to it since she wasn’t helping with a major course. He had whined about it in front of her, though, so when he got back to his office he found a cupcake from Bento’s waiting for him.

It took a couple of weeks, but Y/N was able to relax around Harry. He noticed this right away. She was way less nervous, and he felt happy knowing he wasn’t making her feel intimidated. He was also happy for the help. She was able to field a lot of questions for the students, and her grading things was already saving him a ton of time.

The semester was off to a great start. Y/N would often bring Harry extra pastries from Bento’s, and he would praise her for how good they tasted.

“If those whole Instructional Design thing doesn’t work out, you should just open up your own bakery.” Is what he would often say after stuffing his face. It would make her giggle and blush. She enjoyed pleasing him.

They were having a peaceful Tuesday afternoon, holding office hours. Mostly working on their own, but occasionally chatting. Well, it was peaceful, until someone walked through the door.

“Harry.” An angry woman holding a small shih tzu and a large bag says. “I can’t take care of him Max anymore. I’m moving and my new place can’t have pets.”

“Kelly, let’s go out into the hall, yeah?”

She looks over at Y/N, who was stunned. Harry was standing up and walking around his desk to lead the woman out, but she won’t budge.

“Make whoever this is leave, you have an office for a reason.”

“I don’t have an office for personal matters, come on.” He takes the dog, Max, from her and cuddles him to his chest. Harry gets a lick to his chin. “Aw, you miss Daddy, Maxy?”

The woman rolls her eyes, and lets Harry lead her into the hallway. Y/N hears some muffled discussion, the woman raising her voice more than him.

“You could have looked for a place that allowed pets. This is so typical of you. You fought me on keeping him, and the second it got difficult you wanna just dump him with me.”

“I’m never home, Harry! It’s not fair to him.”

“And you think I’m home more?”

“More than me.” She scoffs. “You don’t have a choice, I leave at the end of the week.”

“You don’t even look like you’re going to miss him.”

“I thought I wanted him, but every time I looked at him I just thought of you, and now I can’t stand him. I’m moving to have a fresh start. Whatever happens to him is up to you now.” She drops the large bag full of Max’s things at his feet and walks away.

Harry sighs and kisses the top of Max’s head. He leans down to grab the bag and walks back into his office.

“I’m so sorry you had to see that.”

“It’s okay.” She extends her hands out. “Can I hold him? He’s so cute.” She pouts.

“Um, sure.” Harry hands Max over to Y/N.

“Oh my goodness.” She gets a lick on her cheek. “How old is he?”

“A little over a year.” Harry mumbles as he goes through the bag. “I have no idea how I’m going to make this work. I can’t bring him with me every day, it’s not allowed. Once in a while is fine, but it’s not like he’s a therapy dog.”

“I can help! My apartment is pet friendly for small dogs. I could just meet you here and you can drop him off to me.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that. You have so much going on between this, your own school work, and Bento’s.”

“I really wouldn’t mind, I know you end up staying here late a lot of the time, I could take him for walks and stuff, tire him out so you can just have a snuggle with him when you get home.” She holds him up to her face. Lucky dog, she thinks to herself.

“You’re my TA, Y/N, not my dog sitter.” He sighs. “I’m sure I could find another student that needs some extra cash-“

“Wouldn’t need to pay me.” She smiles. “Please, he’s so cute, I really wanna help. It won’t stress me out, I promise.”

“We’ll see, it would only be on my busy days.” He takes Max back from her, and pulls his dog bed from the bag. “Go on, get comfy.” He sets him down and pats the top of his head. He takes out his water bowl and pours some into it for him.

“Feel free to not answer, but who was she?”

“My ex…” Harry sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He sits down and watches Max lap up at his water bowl. “She insisted on a small dog because they’re easier to take care of.” He rolls his eyes. “But I missed him a lot, so I’m not complaining. We were together a couple of years, lived together for a bit, thought it would be smart to get a dog like a lot of people do when they’re getting more serious. But we started fighting a lot, we both got busier, neither of us wanted to compromise, and so it goes. She took him with her. We both got new places and have barely spoken.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, we weren’t right for each other, and he sort of made us realize that.” Max yips at Harry. “That’s right, buddy.” Harry chuckles. “We called it quits roughly six months ago, it’s all good now. I thought I’d miss her, but I missed him more.”

“I get that, I dated this guy for a bit in undergrad, but I definitely didn’t see it lasting.” She rolls her eyes.

“Guys at that age are really immature, anyways. You’ve got plenty of time to meet someone.” He turns back to his computer and gets back into his emails. He looks over his calendar and groans. “Alright, I’ll definitely need your help with him.” He turns back to her. “I give a lecture on Thursday evenings, so no one would be home with him literally day.”

“No problem at all, I can bring him home with me and I can just drop him off to you.” She smiles. “My roommates love dogs too, they’ll be excited.”

“I’ll need your phone number, just to get updates and stuff, it’ll be easier than email.”

“Sure!” She hands him her phone immediately. “Feels silly to not have exchanged numbers sooner.”

“Was sort of trying to keep a level of professionalism between us, but I suppose you’re gonna be helping me with my pup you’ll be more than just a colleague.” He puts his number in and texts himself. “You’re sure this won’t be too much for you?”

“Not at all.”

“At least let me pay you.”

“No way.”

“Y/N.” He sighs. “I’m gonna pay you, just deal with it, alright?” There was that intimidating side of him again. Y/N just swallows and nods. “Good.”

//

Nessa and Charlotte loved when Y/N would bring Max home with her. They teased her a bit at first because it was like her and Harry now owned this dog together, but she explained she was just helping him out.

“At least now you know for sure he’s single, and that he’s not afraid of commitment.” Nessa winks.

“Oh stop.” Y/N nudges her.

“He has your number now, does he ever text you about anything other than Max?”

“Not really, although he’ll send a funny gif as a response sometimes. He’s got a good sense of humor. You should see him in class.” Y/N’s phone buzzes and sees a text from Harry. “Speak of the Devil.”

Harry: I’m running late tonight, I’m so sorry. Would it be too much to ask to have you just get him settled at my place? There’s a spare key in the plant by the door.

Y/N’s eyes grow wide.

“Oh my god, he wants me to bring Max to his house tonight.”

“It’s happening!” Charlotte squeals. “Have you eaten much pineapple lately?”

“Would you shut up?! He doesn’t want to fuck me. He’s way too professional.”

Y/N: of course!

Harry: you’re a lifesaver. I’ve got some frozen pizza, feel free to make yourself at home until I get in. I won’t have you waiting too long.

“Oh wow, I’m gonna be there until he gets in…” She looks at her friends. “Maybe I’ll go shave my legs, you know, just in case.”

//

Y/N finds the key quickly, and walks into Harry’s home. He didn’t live too far from campus. He had a nice town home. Max scamps inside and immediately goes over to his toys in the living room. Y/N takes her shoes off and leaves them in the mudroom. Harry kept his home clean, and it made Y/N smile. There were some papers on his kitchen table that had grade marks on them. She wondered if he had a home office or not.

She goes into his freezer to find the pizza, and preheats the over. Once the pizza is baking, she plops onto the couch, pulling Max into her lap and turning the TV on. He has Netflix, so she click into that. She pouts when she sees he watches a lot of Rom Coms, it was too cute. She puts on The Office and has a slice of pizza. She didn’t need to work until tomorrow afternoon, so she didn’t mind that it was getting to be a little later on a Thursday, and it wasn’t like she went to raging parties anymore either.

Eventually, she dozed off. She couldn’t help it. Harry had a really comfortable couch, and plush blanket to curl up in, and Max was just as cozy to sleep with. Harry had texted Y/N, but she didn’t answer because she was asleep. The lecture he had ran late, and then he had to meet with some students to help them. Not to mention it was raining heavily, and he needed to drive a little slower than usual. So he didn’t pull into his driveway until 10PM. He sighs, feeling terrible that Y/N was still there.

He quietly enters his home, but it didn’t matter because Max hears him, wakes up, and starts barking. This startles Y/N awake.

“Shh, Max, it’s just Daddy.” He scoops him up and walks into the living room. Y/N was rubbing her eyes, trying to wake up. “I’m so sorry, I-“

“It’s okay.” She yawns. “I wrapped up the pizza and put it in the fridge for you.”

“Oh, um, thank you. Think I’m about to pass out though.”

“Don’t be silly.” She gets up and stretches. “You need to eat something.”

She brushes by him to go into his kitchen and take the pizza out. She puts a paper-towel over it and pops it in the microwave.

“I really am sorry you’re here so late.”

“It’s okay.” She leans against the counter. “What’s the lecture for, anyways?”

“It’s actually a graduate level CS systems course. I couldn’t turn the money down when they offered it to me. I figured since it’s only once a week it would be terrible, and it’s not, it’s just exhausting.”

The microwave beeps, and Y/N take the plate out for him, removing the paper towel.

“See, now it’s not all dried out.” She smiles.

“Neat trick, I’ll have to remember that.” The rain taps violently on the window in the kitchen.

“Yikes, I didn’t even know it was supposed to rain tonight. It wasn’t like this when I drove over.” She bites her bottom lip and looks outside.

Harry finishes his pizza and puts the plate in the sink. He sets Max down and he runs upstairs to his dog bed in Harry’s room.

“Listen, uh, if you want I can set up the pull out for you. Or I could sleep on it and you could take my bed…if you don’t feel safe driving home.”

“Oh, I couldn’t take your bed.” She turns to him. “But I may take your couch. I was sleeping on it fine as is, no need to set it up.”

“Well, let me at least get you a proper pillow and something to change into, yeah?”

“Okay.”

“Right, um, well you know where the bathroom down here is, feel free to use whatever to wash up. I’ll run up to grab what you need, be down in a sec.”

Harry changes into his own pj’s, and finds some spare pants and a t-shirt for Y/N. He’s even able to find a spare toothbrush. He hustles back down and see’s Y/N bending over to charge her phone using the plug behind the tide table next to the couch. Harry clears his throat to get her attention.

“Here, you can wear this, and he’s a toothbrush.”

“Thanks for letting crash here, I get nervous driving at night when it’s like that outside.”

“It’s the least I could do, you gave up your Thursday night to…” He looks at the TV screen and his cheeks grow hot. Y/N looks over at the TV as well and wonders why The Office might embarrass him.

“Is it okay that I used your Netflix?”

“Yeah, I…god, it’s just, you’ve seen what I watch.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“I didn’t snoop or anything, promise.” She smiles and takes the clothes and toothbrush from him.

He opens up the coffee table to take out a pillow and another blanket.

“Well, I’ll be right upstairs if you need anything…um, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

She wanted to ask if he wanted to watch a little TV with her, but he looked so tired. She lays on the couch after getting changed. His bed clothes swam on her, and she loved it. They smelled just like him and it made her smile. She texts in the group chat so the girls know what’s up. They tell her just to go crawl into his bed, and she rolls her eyes. She falls back asleep after another couple of episodes of The Office.

The next morning, her eyes flutter open when the light from the sliding door in the living room hit her. She hears Harry shuffling around upstairs.

“Gotta be quiet, Max. Y/N is sleeping.” She hears him whisper and it makes her smile. She decides to pretend to be asleep as to not rile the dog up.

She hears the door open and close, and that’s when she knows Harry’s gone to take Max for a walk. She gets up and folds the blankets, and puts the pillow on top. She figures he’ll want to wash it. She goes into the bathroom to do her business, but doesn’t change just yet, she didn’t want to leave the comfort of his clothes. She does, however, put her bra on. She didn’t want to bounce around and make him uncomfortable.

Harry comes back in with a beanie on, cover the beautiful curls Y/N adored so much. He was wearing grey joggers, and a black t-shirt. Max runs right over to Y/N.

“Morning.” Harry says.

“Morning.” She pats Max’s head.

“Sleep alright?”

“Mhm, thank you.”

“I’m gonna make some breakfast, you hungry?”

“Sure, I could eat.” She smiles.

He smiles back and opens up the fridge. Y/N grabs the dog food and gets Max’s bowl filled. She sees Harry starting up the coffee pot, and then going back to the fridge for eggs.

“Eggs and toast alright?”

“Sounds great.”

Harry gets a pan heated up and cracks four eggs into it.

“You working at Bento’s today?”

“Yeah, not until this afternoon though, no worries.”

“Oh good, I would have felt bad if I was keeping you.”

“You’re not.” She sits up on the counter and watches him cook the eggs. He moves to the toaster and puts for pieces of bread in. “This is a nice place.”

“Thanks, sort of found it in a scramble, but it gets the job done. Would have liked more than one bedroom, but oh well.” Harry flips all of the eggs over so they’ll be sunny side down. “Want cheese?”

“Yes, please.” She hops off the counter to grab a couple of mugs for the coffee.

“I have to apologize, I don’t have any cream for that.”

“Sugar?”

He slides the sugar bowl down to her and she smiles. Once everything is done they sit down at the kitchen table.

“Mm, this is delicious, thank you.”

“S’just a fried egg.” He chuckles. “But I’m glad you like it.”

“Do you have to go to campus today?”

“Not technically, but I will just to get some work done. I’ll bring Max with me. He likes the little dog bed I’ve put under my desk.”

“He’s really such a love bug. Snuggled with me last night and everything. My roommates love him too.”

“You’ve been such a big help in so many ways. Don’t know what I’ll do without you next semester.”

“I’m applying for more TA positions, maybe they’ll stick me with you again.”

“Wouldn’t you want more experience with a different class?”

“It doesn’t really matter.” She shrugs. “It would be cool to work with you over winter break to redesign your other courses.”

“Man, if I didn’t have to do that myself…hm, maybe I could put a good word in. That is, if you don’t mind being stuck with me again.”

“Stuck with you? Hello, this is going way better than I thought. I was sort of nervous to be your TA at first.”

“You were?” He frowns.

“You’re a little intimidating.”

“I don’t mean to be.”

“I know, it’s just the way you come off sometimes. You’re hilarious when you want to be.”

“Thanks.” He smirks and continues to eat. He looks at her and furrows his brows. “Feel free to keep those.”

“What?”

“The clothes I let you borrow, feel free to just keep ‘em if you want. I don’t much wear those pants anymore, and I have a dozen t-shirts.”

“Oh, um, thank you. Might take you up on that, I’m pretty cozy.”

She helps clean up the dishes and then gathers her things. He walks her out to her car.

“Thanks again for watching him.”

“Of course, I’ll see you Monday morning.”

“See you, have a good weekend, love.”

Her heart skips a beat as he turns and walks back inside. She takes a deep breath as she gets into her car. It was cloudy on the drive home, but at least it wasn’t raining. The second she gets through the door Nessa and Charlotte grill her for details, and they were highly disappointed that the only thing they shared was breakfast.

“It was really domestic, though, it was nice.” Y/N explains. “He was so cute while he made me breakfast. He’s so kind. He even let me keep his clothes, and he wants me to be his TA again next semester. He literally said he wouldn’t know what to do without me.”

“Yeah, because you’ve volunteered to do everything for him except suck his dick.” Charlotte scoffs. “You said he’s been broken up for a little over six months right? Do you think he’s gotten his dick wet since then?”

“Charlotte!” Y/N giggles. “He’s a grown man, he can do what he wants. I bet he has, he easily could have had a rebound, although, he seems really respectful, so who knows if he’s even into hooking up.”

“Right, like when you told us he always keeps his office door open.”

“I feel bad, I’m there when some of those girls come to chat with him, and you can tell they just make him uncomfortable.” She shakes her head. “I think he and I are, like, friends now. I like what we have going, I’m not going to rock the boat. It could really complicate things.”

“So, would you say now that you’ve gotten to know him better your crush is less…apparent?” Nessa asks.

“God no! We mesh really well, we think a lot of the same things are funny…” She wines slightly. “It’s truly unfair.” She sighs. “Right person, wrong time.”

//

It was hard to stay awake during your shift at the bakery, but you made it through. You were thankful you only needed to be there until about dinner time. You had to be back in Saturday morning for open, but that didn’t stop you and your friends from going out to the bar for a couple of drinks.

It gave the three of you time to catch up and complain about coursework. Nessa was directing a production at the university, and she still had students who weren’t off-book, and Charlotte had to deal with pretentious music bros who really liked to man-splain the music industry to her. Y/N felt lucky that the majority of her classes were online.

“Okay, I have to ask, are there any students in class you think have crushes on each other?” Nessa asks her, sipping from her straw.

“Oh, for sure. There are these two boys, they don’t sit next to each other, but you can tell they’re friends. One of them always looks behind to the other so they can make a face. It’s too cute.”

They were at a more adult bar tonight. It’s not that they didn’t like the college bars they were so used to going to, but if they went there then that meant getting shitfaced and staying on the dancefloor until close. It also made things awkward when running into students. So the three of them felt safe here, they could really relax.

“Oh my fucking god.” Charlotte says. “Dr. Styles just walked in, and fuck, he’s here with a couple of really hot guys.”

“What?!” Y/N was buzzed, and she didn’t want Harry to see her like this. She wanted his image of her to remain sweet and professional. She peers over her shoulder to look at him, and her eyes widen.

He wasn’t wearing his glasses, he had a floral patterned shirt on that had the first few buttons undone, and a pair of black jeans to match. They weren’t skinny jeans or anything, but they sure as fuck were working for him. Both of his friends were a little shorter, but both equally as handsome. The three walk right by the bar and grab a booth.

“This is bad.” Y/N groans. “He looks so fucking good.”

“Who knew he was so tatted up?!” Nessa says. “I thought it was just his arms, but did you see his collar bones? We love a man who has going attire.”

The bar was starting to get more crowded, and louder as it got later. Music was blaring from the speakers, but all Y/N could think about was Harry. She wondered if he would venture to her area of the bar to order his drinks. One of his friends went up first, on Nessa’s left.

“Hey, Niall, what can I get for you?” The bartender asks him.

“Bradly, so good to see yeh, I’ll take a pint of Guinness, Lou’s gonna have a pale ale, and Harry’ll have a Corona with lime.”

“You got it.”

Niall drums his fingers on the bar. Nessa was sweating. She had a boyfriend, so she would never do anything, but fuck, that Irish accent tore right through her. Niall looks over at the three girls who had all fallen silent after he approached. He makes eye contact with Y/N, and they share a smile.

“Opening a tab tonight?”

“Yeah, one of those nights for sure. Poor Harry’s had a run in with his ex, basically dropped their dog in his lap and left. It’s been a couple of weeks since it happened, but it’s been eatin’ the lad up.”

Bradly nods and takes Niall’s credit card to keep on the back of the bar. He hands him the three beers, and Niall thanks him. The girls try not to watch as he sits down.

“Holy shit, I thought I was going to crap my pants.” Nessa breathes. “I love Andy, don’t get me wrong, but holy fuck.” She shakes her head. “I may need to have him pick me up from here tonight.” She giggles.

“Now I almost wish there was dancing here. Wouldn’t mind showing that guy how well I can pop my ass.” Charlotte laughs.

“He smiled at me, did you see it? Of course Harry surrounds himself with other beautiful people.” She pouts.

Niall slides Harry and Louis their beers and they all clink their glasses.

“I’m so glad we could all get out to do this. Sorry we didn’t rescue you the second Kelly showed up.” Louis says.

“It’s alright, I appreciate you guys coming tonight.”

“Is Max okay for a bit on his own?” Niall asks.

“Yeah, I put the gates up for him so he can’t mess much up. I wouldn’t have texted my TA to see if she could watch him again, but…”

“But you’ll most likely be fucking someone tonight.” Niall grins. “Surprised you didn’t just fuck her, she stayed at your place and everything.”

“Actually, you asshole,” Harry chuckles and takes a swig of his beer. “I was going to say that I would have felt bad taking up another one of her evenings. I don’t know if I’m in the mood to take anyone home tonight.”

“Too bad, girls love little dogs like Max.” Louis shrugs.

“There’s three really hot girls sitting by the bar.” Niall loves over at the three girls. “One for each of us if we play our cards right.”

Harry’s back was turned away from the bar, so he couldn’t see who Niall was talking about.

“They could be college students.” Louis says.

“Not at this place. The undergrads don’t come here.” Harry says. “Mostly grad students or other faculty that live close by, locals too.”

“We could order their next round of drinks, and then invite them to come sit with us. Booth has plenty of room.” Niall suggest.

Harry and Louis turn around slightly to get a look at the girls Niall was talking about. Harry nearly chokes on his Corona, and turns back around.

“Jesus, are you alright?” Louis asks, patting his back.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. We can’t get those girls drinks.”

“Why not?”

“The one on the right is my TA, Y/N, and her two roommates. I know one of them has a boyfriend…uh…the one on the very left. The middle one is single, but even still, I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“Mate, you’re TA is that good looking, and you didn’t even try to fuck her when she stayed at your place?” Niall asks.

“No, I didn’t try to fuck her. I’m doing this thing where I don’t fuck people I have a position of power over.” He rolls his eyes. “That’s a no go.”

“But if she wasn’t your TA, and just a regular grad student…?” Louis raises an eyebrow at Harry. He runs a hand through his hair as thinks it over.

“I don’t know, I haven’t really thought about it. I mean, she’s obviously cute, but…I could never do something like that.”

“It’s not like she’s going to be your TA next semester, you could-“ Harry cuts Niall off.

“Actually, she might be. I have a meeting with the curriculum committee to discuss what I’ll need help with for next semester, and we both want to work with each other again. Crossing that line would complicate things, not to mention it’s highly unprofessional.”

“It’s not like she’s a student sitting in one of your classes, then I’d agree with you. You’re colleagues, technically. Nothing in the rule book saying you can’t fuck a colleague.” Niall says.

“He’s got a point, Har.” Louis says.

“Even if I agreed with the both of you, I’d still be taking advantage. I think she has a little crush on me, she’s made a couple flirty comments here and there…”

“Not to mention she jumped at the chance to help watch your dog.” Louis says.

“It’s not happening.”

“Well, you may not want to fuck a pretty girl tonight, but I do, and if the middle one is single, perhaps I’ll still order them all drinks, and just talk with her. Or, if you’re saying Y/N’s a no go for you, maybe I’ll chat her up. We smiled at each other, maybe she thinks I’m cute.” Niall grins.

“Don’t you dare.” He glares at him, finishing his beer. “I don’t care if you talk to, fuck what’s her name…Charlotte! I don’t care if you talk to Charlotte, but don’t try anything with Y/N.” He looks at Louis. “You either.”

“Not that I would, but basically you’re saying if you can’t fuck her no one else can?” Louis asks.

“I just wouldn’t feel comfortable with it.”

“Alright.” Niall shrugs. “We ready for the next round, then?” They both nod at him, and Niall brings the empties up to the bar. The girls fall silent when he approaches again. “Hi there, is there a reason you all keep doing that?”

The girls all turn to look at him. They were sweating.

“Doing what?” Charlotte asks nervously.

“Well, and maybe it’s just a coincidence, but you keep getting quiet when I come over.”

“It’s just…um…” Nessa starts. “You’re here with someone our friend knows.” She points to Y/N. “In a professional setting, and we’re just surprised to see him out, that’s all.”

“Oh, am I? Who is it?”

“Dr. Styles.” Y/N speaks up. Niall smiles as his eyes raise.

“Dr. Styles, how formal.” He looks over at Bradly who gives him the new drinks. “Bradly, do me a favor, put these ladies’ next round on my tab, will you?”

“You don’t have to do that.” Y/N says.

“Whether you know my friend or not, I’d be a real jerk to not buy three beautiful girls a drink, wouldn’t I?” He winks at Charlotte as he walks away with his new drinks.

“He winked at me, oh my god.” She squeals. “Y/N, you wouldn’t care if I tried to fuck one of Harry’s friends, right? It’s been a minute for me.” She pouts.

“No, why would I care?” She laughs. Bradly gives the girls their new drinks. “That was really nice of him.” She twists her straw and looks over at the booth. She can see Niall and the other guy laughing, while Harry just shakes his head.

“What the fuck did you say to them?” Harry asks as he takes a sip of beer.

“Would you relax? They simply mentioned that they knew you, and I bought their next round, that was it.”

“Great, so she knows I’m here.” He groans. “Move.” He says to Louis.

“Why?”

“Because now I have to go talk to her.”

“Oh, you do?” Louis smirks.

“Yes, do you know how fucking rude it would be not even say hello?”

“I don’t see her coming over here.” Niall says.

“She’s obviously nervous!” Harry takes a large gulp of his drink. “Move, Lou.”

Louis gets up so Harry can get out of the booth.

“Oh my god, Y/N, Harry’s coming over here.” Nessa says.

“Shut up,  no he’s not, oh my god, he is, holy shit. I’m…inebriated.”

The girls laugh at her as Harry comes to sit on the open stool next to Y/N. He gets comfortable before he looks at her and smiles. She slowly turns herself to look at him.

“Hi.” He says.

“Hi.”

“Did my friend bother you?”

“Not at all…he was very nice.”

Harry nods and sips from his drink.

“I didn’t know you came here…” He says.

“Could say the same to you.” She looks him up and down. “Barely recognized you when you walked in. That’s a nice shirt.”

“Thanks.” He blushes and wants to kick himself for being so exposed to her.

“You haven’t met my friends yet. Charlotte, Nessa, this is Dr…uh, this is Harry.” The girls both say hello.

“Hi, I’ve heard a lot about you both. You’re Charlotte right?”

“Yeah.”

“My friend thinks you’re cute.” He nods over to Niall. Maybe Harry wouldn’t have been so bold, but he knew they were only a few years apart in age, so it wasn’t totally weird, and he had a couple drinks in him, so there’s that.

“Really?!”

“Mhm.”

“Should I go talk to him?”

“Definitely, I think he’d really like that.”

“Good enough for me.” She hops off the stool. “Ness, come talk to his other friend with me it’s not awkward.”

“Wing-man to the rescue, I’m on it.”

“You guys!” Y/N calls after them, but they’re already sitting down. She looks back at Harry and squints at him.

“What?”

“Did you do that on purpose?”

“Do what?”

“Get them to leave so we could be alone…”

“What?! No!” Harry finishes his drink, and Bradly gets him a new one right away. “Why would I want to be alone with you?” He sees the obvious offense on her face, and shakes his head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. We’re alone together all the time, aren’t we? I just meant, in this setting.” He gestures to the bar around him. “I’ve been a bit mopey since Kelly showed up, so my friends just wanted to take me out and show me a good time.” He looks over at Niall who already has his arm around Charlotte. “Although, I think they’re bound to have a better night than me.” He sighs.

“You haven’t let on a mopey exterior, you could have told me.”

“It’s really none of your business how I’m feeling, Y/N.”

“You’re being awfully cold to someone who spent the night at your house just watch your dog.”

“You spent the night because it was raining too heavily.”

“And then you made me breakfast.”

“As an extra thank you.”

“You’re annoying.” She takes a sip of her drink and faces forward. “Now I don’t even have my friends to complain about you because you’ve sent them off to your friends.” She rolls her eyes.

“M’not annoying. I’m a fucking delight, just ask Max.”

“Where is he anyways?”

“Home.” Harry shrugs. “He can last a few hours without me. I almost texted you, but I would have felt bad asking again. I know you worked today, I honestly didn’t expect to see you out.”

“It was a long week for everyone. I’m not staying much longer, I have to be at Bento’s at four in the morning.”

“It’s…” Harry looks down at his watch. “Almost midnight, Cinderella.” He smirks at her and she can’t help but laugh. It was a stupid and cheesy joke, but she liked it. “I didn’t mean to be cold…I just didn’t want you to think I was coming over here to pull a move or something.”

“I’m going to remind you again, you sent my friends away.” She smiles and takes a sip of her drink.

“I did.” He nods. “But I’ll remind you, my friend Niall thinks Charlotte is cute. He thought you were cute too, by the way.”

“He did?!” She looks over at them and then back to Harry. “But you sent her off with him?”

“Yup.” He takes a swig of his beer.

“Why?!”

“Could be a little awkward to have my best friend canoodle with my TA.”

“Right, because it would be so easy to get into my bed.” She scoffs.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You implied it. And I’m not one to kiss and tell, so unless he wanted to dish, you wouldn’t have even heard anything from me about it.”

“Doesn’t matter, I wouldn’t have liked it. I don’t know Charlotte so I don’t really care what they do.”

“You don’t get to decide who I can and can’t sleep with just because you’re too chicken to make a move.” Before he can say anything she’s hopping off her stool and heading out of the bar.

She’s just about to order an uber when he grabs her wrist. It was chilly outside, and she could clearly see both of their breaths.

“What did you just say to me?”

“You heard me.” She yanks her wrist free. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going home to sleep for three hours so I can get up to bake some fucking bread.” She orders her uber, and Nessa comes rushing out.

“Char’s staying inside with, um, Niall? I saw you leave so I thought I’d come…with…you…” She sees Harry who was practically fuming. “Um, I can wait inside, or-“

“It’s fine, the uber will be here in a minute.” She smiles at her friend and then glares at Harry. “At least one of us is going to have a good time tonight.” She seethes.

“I had fun.” Nessa says, and then realizes what Y/N meant. “Oh.”

“Why are you still here? Go inside and find some random to fuck.”

“Don’t talk to me like that, Y/N.”

“Sorry, I’m off the clock. I can speak to you however the fuck I want.” She steps closer to him. “I don’t know where you get off being so sweet and kind one moment, and then turning into a major prick the second you feel threatened, but I don’t need this.”

The uber pulls up, and without another word Y/N and Nessa get inside, leaving Harry outside in the cold.

//

Y/N woke up at 3:30AM and groaned, cursing at herself for going out. She only had to work until 9AM and then should could sleep the day away if she wanted. She was still so mad at Harry she could scream. He hadn’t even tried to text her to apologize.

She sighs and makes her way to the kitchen once she’s dressed. She stops short when she sees a half-naked Niall standing in her kitchen, filling two glasses of water.

“Um…hi.” She says to him as she grabs her daily vitamins out of the cabinet.

“Hey.” He smiles. He looks her up and down. “Are you going to work?”

“I am.” She pops the gummy vitamins into her mouth.

“Could you do me a favor?” He steps a little closer to her. “Take it easy on Harry, alright?” Y/N scoffs at him. “I know, he was an asshole last night, but he just want to do anything that could put his job in danger, that’s all.”

“How would I do that? I’m not his student, I’m his colleague.”

“He just feels weird about it, and he’s still figuring out his feelings. I think he likes you, to be quite honest. You’ve…perked him up, well not tonight, but anytime he mentions you he smiles.”

“He…talks about me?”

“Oh sure, all the time actually.” He takes a sip of water. “I better go bring this to her. Just…consider taking it easy on him, he knows he fucked up.”

Y/N nods as Niall makes his way back to Charlotte’s room. She drags herself out to her car and heads to Bento’s. Once she’s inside, she puts some music on and fires up the ovens. She loved baking, it helped clear her head for a little while. She would prep the bacon, get fresh muffins and cookies going, and she would even make croissants. By the time the rest of the morning crew shows up, she’s just about halfway done with everything. She trays up everything to be rolled out for the people working out front. By the time 9AM rolled around she was exhausted, but had mostly forgotten how aggravated she was. She snags a coffee and a muffin on her way out, and stops short when she sees Harry sitting outside with Max.

“Oh, thank god.” He says, standing up. Max sniffs at her feet and she bends down to pet the top of his head. “They said you got off at nine, I hope it’s not weird that I’m here.”

“How long have you been waiting out here?”

“Well, I came by at 6:30 when they opened, but you were really busy, so I just came back twenty minutes ago. Can we talk?”

“Not right now. I’m covered in flour and sweat, and I’d like to take a shower and then take a nap. I got two hours of sleep last night. It was my own doing, but still.”

“When then?”

“I’ll text you.” She shrugs. “Niall spent the night, I bumped into him this morning. He said you fucked up?”

“I did.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Do what you need to do, and then, uh, come bay later, yeah? We can have a late lunch or something, and I can explain myself. Would you like that?”

“Depends, what’s on the menu?”

“S’cold out, do you like grilled cheese and tomato soup?”

“Love it.” She smiles. “I’ll let you know when I wake up.”

“Alright, thanks.”

Y/N takes a nice long shower when she gets home, her roommates still peacefully sleeping. She wondered if Niall was still there or if he slipped out a couple hours after her. She didn’t care that much, she was too tired to care. Once her hair is dry, she slips a t-shirt on and crawls into bed.

“Y/N! I’ve let you sleep long enough, please wake up!” Charlotte was absolutely giddy, and dying to fill Y/N in. It was around 2PM, she definitely caught up on sleep.

“Gimme five minutes!” Y/N yells back. She was groggy and didn’t want to be cranky.

Y/N comes out to the couch and lays down. Nessa was out with Andy, but she had heard about everything earlier. Charlotte brings Y/N a cup of tea and smiles at her.

“Thank you.” She takes a careful sip. “Alright, go ahead.”

“Best sex I’ve ever fucking had!” She squeals. “He had me all over the bed, it was wild. I’m surprised we didn’t wake you.”

“I passed out the second I got home.” She chuckles. “Best you ever had, huh? What exactly did he do?”

“What didn’t he do?! Fingers, tongue, and dick, it was incredible. I rode him, then he got on top, and then he did me from behind, bent me over the bed, I got on top again. His stamina was incredible. I made him some breakfast this morning and then he left.”

“Did he give you his number?”

“He did.” She beams. “He said he wasn’t looking for anything serious at the moment, but I was free to text him anytime I wanted him like that again.” She bites her bottom lip and sinks further into the couch. “I totally don’t mind at all. It would be nice to start up a new little fling. It won’t be weird for you, will it?”

“Not at all, it’s not like you’re…oh my god.” She pinches the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger.

“What?”

“I totally get where he was coming from now.” She groans.

“What do you mean?”

“He said he told me that, uh, his other friend thought I was cute, and I told him I was mad because he sent the two of you away, and that he couldn’t tell me who I could and couldn’t fuck, but I would have been so mad if you slept with Harry.”

“I wouldn’t have, though. I know how much you like…” She gasps. “Do you think he likes you too?!”

“I don’t know, maybe!” Y/N takes her phone out to text Harry that she’s up and that she’ll be over within the hour. “I’m going to his place for a late lunch, he wants to apologize, but I owe him one just the same. I flipped out for no reason.”

“Well, at least you’re realizing it. Very adult of you.”

“Oh, shut up.” She nudges her and gets up to change.

//

Y/N gets to Harry’s around 3PM. She paired a green cardigan and a black tank top with a pair of jeans. She gets out of the car and rings his bell. She giggles when she hears Max barking from behind the door.

“Shh, it’s just Y/N.” Harry coos to Max as he opens his door. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Um, come in.” He moves aside and lets her in. “Here, think he misses you.” Y/N takes Max from Harry and snuggles him close.

“It’s only been a couple days.” She pouts at the dog.

“Come, sit, the food’s ready.”

Y/N sets Max down and sits down at the table. Harry already had the grilled cheese and soup out on the table.

“This looks good, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Harry…I know you wanted to apologize, but I realized today that you weren’t totally in the wrong.”

“Yes I was.” He sighs and blows on his soup before slurping some from his spoon. “Maybe it wasn’t what I said, but it was how I said it. I overstepped. You’re a grown woman, I had no right to tell my friend he couldn’t hit it on you.”

“Well, it all worked out because Charlotte seems to have a new fuck buddy on her hands.” She chuckles and takes a bite of her sandwich. “Look, I appreciate you saying all that, but when I was talking to her earlier, I realized I would have done the same thing. I would have told my friends not to flirt with you or try to pick you up, and I would have been pissed if one of them slept with you.”

“You would have?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You know why.” She grumbles. “I…I mean…”

“We’re stuck between a rock and a hard place here, Y/N.” He sighs and sits back in his chair.

“We are?”

“Yes. I did a lot of thinking last night, did some talking with my friends. I had to really think about why I got so upset. The thing is, you’re my TA, and you’re going to be my TA next semester as well, most likely. I have a meeting about it Monday. Selfishly, I don’t want anyone else to have you.”

“In more ways than one, obviously.” She smirks.

“Don’t be cute.” He gives her a playful smile. “I think I’d miss you too much, to be honest. I like sharing my office with you. Your help with Max has been great, you’re, like, part of my life now.”

“Is there some rule that says that we can’t…like…go out?”

“I don’t know…I think it would look unprofessional on my part. I know you’re not one of my students, so it’s not as bad as that, but I still have a position of power over you, and if someone found out something was going, it could look really bad. I wouldn’t want something to taint your reputation either.”

“Well, I’ve been over here twice now, and no one’s said a thing.”

“You haven’t been on campus since Thursday. Someone could easily say something to us Monday.”

“A lot of people know I help with Max.”

“Some people may know you used to be a student of mine as well. They could assume something’s been going on for years.”

“Not true, wouldn’t people know about Kelly?” Harry grimaces at the name. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“So…I feel like we’re just going around in circles here, Harry. Like, what are we doing?”

“Well, if I vouch for you to be my TA again next semester, would you? The course would be for Creativity and the Visual World, and I think you could really shine there, talk about IDS. Also, I don’t know what your plans are after you graduate, or where you’ll want to go, but I’ve caught wind that one of the instructional designers on campus is going to retire at the end of the school year.”

“Wow, so you’re like really trying to keep me around.” She smirks.

“It’s not like that.” He chuckles. “I just mean, it could be a good first gig for you. You’re very good at all that, thought you might be interested to know there’s going to be an opening. You know the campus well, it would be a smooth transition for you.”

“That would be ideal, I do want to work in higher ed when I’m done.”

“I could help you with your cover letter, I’m really good at writing those. I’ve helped plenty of students.”

“I’ll definitely look into it.” She finishes what she can of the food, and sits back as well.

“I really am sorry about last night, I felt awful.”

“It’s okay, I really get it.” She sighs. “So…I still don’t know what we’re doing. Are we just choosing not to date anyone else and also not each other? Why should I wait until I graduate to be with someone?”

“M’not asking you to do that. I don’t really know what I’m asking you to do. I just don’t want to be a cliché. The young professor getting with someone that works for him. I’m attracted to you, I can admit that, but I don’t want to get fired, nor do I want your name getting dragged through the mud.”

“So, essentially, while I’m your TA we can’t do anything.”

“Correct.”

“And you’d rather suffer and have me be your TA again next semester just to have me around you, even though it would mean we still couldn’t do anything.”

“Yes.”

“Alright, after the holidays I’ll be staying at my apartment for winter break. We pay for a full year, and I like having the time alone. I also still work at Bento’s.” She stands up and puts her things in the sink.

“What are you saying exactly?”

“I’m saying, over winter break we’re in limbo. I won’t be your TA, and I’ll be all alone in my three bedroom apartment. Perhaps there’ll be a night I’m feeling especially lonely and you’ll have the marvelous idea of visiting me with Max, and whatever happens will happen.”

“And then what? Act like it didn’t when the spring semester starts?”

“I guess we’d cross that bridge when we come to it. All I know is that for six weeks, you will in no way have a position of power over me. By the way, I’m twenty-three years old, it’s like you said, I’m a grown woman. You’re not taking advantage of me. I know how it would look to others, so I can respect where you’re coming from. However, I’d like to try things out before I tell someone I’m going to wait for them.”

With that, Y/N gives Max one last squeeze, and out the door she goes. She was proud of herself. Harry liked her, and he wanted to be with her. It was a dream come true. She also didn’t mind sort of waiting for him, it would just make things all the more hot when they’d finally be able to come together.

//

The rest of the semester went by…okay. There was a lot of tension, a lot of it. Harry was just thankful it was getting colder which meant that Y/N was bundling up more. She did, however, look insanely cute in her many layers and scarves. They were busy grading, not having much time for chat chit. She started going over his place more, though. They would have little grading parties where they could just spread out and get things done. His place was also another quiet haven for her to escape to.

Charlotte hooked with Niall almost every weekend, it was pretty cute. They were having fun, and Y/N was happy for her friend. Even though sometimes Y/N wished Harry would just fuck her on his kitchen table on top of all the graded papers and tests, and maybe sometimes he fantasized about the same thing, but it had to stay professional. She didn’t want him regretting anything. Sometimes he would come into Bento’s when she was working, she even snuck him in early one morning to show him how she made the croissants he liked so much. They were essentially dating, but without all the physical stuff.

At least Y/N could catch some relief later at night in her bed. She didn’t think of Harry at first. Her routine mostly consisted of headphones, pornhub, and a few orgasms. But there was one particular night her and Harry were sitting in front of his fireplace, and he just looked so sexy, and she wanted him to take her on his living room floor, she didn’t even care if her tailbone would be bruised the next day. She still hadn’t even seen his fucking bedroom, it was the one part of the house she wasn’t allowed in. So she start fantasizing about his bed, and then one thing led to another and she ended up moaning out his name in a shallow breath. It had caught her by surprise, and she was almost embarrassed about it.

Harry would have been lying if he said he wasn’t doing the same thing. It mostly happened early in the morning when he’d take his shower. It just sort of happened. He woke up one morning, rolled over and wished she was there next to him. He had seen her fall asleep so many times, and he thought she was incredibly cute. He liked having Max in the bed, but he wanted Y/N. So when he got into the shower he just couldn’t stop thinking about her. He didn’t feel embarrassed, he didn’t feel guilty, he mostly felt annoyed because he just wanted the real thing.

It was confirmed that Y/N would be his TA again in the spring, and they were both exited. He liked having her in his office, and he thought they worked together really well. It was worth it, it was all going to be worth it.

Harry went home to London for the holidays, and Y/N went home to her parents’ house. It was a tough goodbye. They hugged, and maybe they kissed each other on the cheek, but neither wanted to let go. Y/N loved seeing her family, but ten days was plenty. She liked having her apartment to herself. Nessa and Charlotte wouldn’t be back for a few weeks. That meant Y/N could watch whatever she wanted on TV, she didn’t have to worry about being quiet on the early mornings she had to work, and she could take a long shower.

A big snow storm was coming, which was starting to make Y/N nervous. Stores were closing in preparation, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to weather it alone.

Y/N: are you back from London? Can’t remember when you said you’d be home…

Harry: hey! I was just going to message you, I got back yesterday, was just sleeping off the jetlag. What’s up?

Y/N: this impending storm is freaking me out…

Harry: do you wanna get snowed in at my place? Just stalked up at the grocery store…

Y/N: are you sure? I don’t wanna be a burden :(

Harry: you wouldn’t be! You know I want to see you, so does Max :)

Y/N: okay! I’ll pack a bag and head over, see you soon!

Harry had been cute while he was away, sending Y/N a few selfies of him and Max. She had been to his house so many times, this wouldn’t be weird at all to spend a couple of snowy days together. She gets all her things packed, and makes her way to Harry’s. It was just starting to flurry when she parked in his driveway. He comes outside to help her with her things.

“And this time, you’ll let me set up the pullout for you. No need to sleep on a couch for two days.”

“Okay.”

She was hoping he’d give in and let her sleep in his bed with him. Actually, she was hoping he’d pick her up, swing her around, and kiss her. He sets her things down and waits for her to take her coat off, then he hugs hers.

“Had a good holiday?” He asks as he lets her go.

“Yeah, it was good. You?”

“It was great, love getting to see my family.” Max comes trotting in and greets Y/N.

“There’s my little man.” She scoops him up and gives him kisses.

“I was just going to make some tea, would you like some?”

“Please.” She plops down with Max on the couch.

“Do you have to work at Bento’s during all this? I can drive you if you want.”

“No, they closed in preparation of the storm.”

“Oh, good!”

Y/N turns the TV on, and scrolls through Netflix for something simple to watch. Harry comes over with two mugs of tea and he sits down next to her.

“Find anything good? Feel like it’s all Christmas movies right now.”

“Nothing yet…” She squints at the TV. “How about…oh! Have you watched Love, Victor yet? It’s been on my list for ages.”

“Is it based off of Love, Simon?”

“Yeah! This kid Victor is new in town, and ends up going to the same school Simon did.”

“Sure, we could watch that.”

“Shit, it’s on Hulu, you have that right?”

“Mhm, gimme the remote, I’ll switch it over.” She hands it to him and sips on her tea while he queues it up.

“Mm, this is tasty, what is it?”

“It’s black tea with honey, love.” He looks at her wants to laugh. “I don’t usually add anything, but I thought you’d like the honey.”

“It’s perfect, thank you.”

The show starts just as the sun was setting outside. Y/N pulls the blanket Harry keeps on the back of the couch over her legs, and Max moves to Harry’s lap.

“Let me know if I’m being a blanket hog.”

“S’alright, he keeps me pretty warm.”

“Don’t be annoying.” She huffs and spreads the blanket out equally over them. “See, nice and cozy.”

“I’m not being annoying, I’m being…respectful.”

“Golly gee, thanks, mister.” She pouts at him and he rolls his eyes.

“Now who’s being annoying?”

A couple of episodes in, and Harry’s stomach starts rumbling.

“Are you hungry? I can pop a pizza in the oven, or make some pasta?”

“Pizza would be perfect, thank you.”

“Pause it, I just need a minute to get it in the oven.”

Y/N nods and scrolls through her phone while she waits for him to come back. This was nice. It was like they were hanging out as friends, which was okay, but she was hoping he’d make a move for fuck’s sake.

“Alright, should be about fifteen minutes.” He smiles and gets back under the blanket. Y/N presses and play and they get back into it.

After the pizza, they nearly almost binge the entire show. Harry was starting to doze off, so they decide to call it a night. He looks outside in the kitchen window.

“I am not looking forward to digging out our cars. Times like this I wish I had a garage.” He sighs.

“You say that like you’ll be doing it alone. I’ve got all my snow gear, I can help.”

“Right, like I’d let you break your back out there.” He scoffs, and puts his hand on her shoulder. “Let me make up the pullout for you.”

Y/N watches as Harry moves the coffee table, and hoists the pullout into place. The sheets were already on it, so he just lays the blankets and pillows out.

“Well, I’ll be upstairs with Max if you need anything. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, thanks again for letting me stay. I think I would have been scared all alone.”

“No worries, I’m glad you’re here. I, uh, missed you over the holidays.” He clears his throat and heads upstairs.

Y/N does her nightly routine and puts on a tank top and pajama pants for bed. She gets onto the pullout and tries to listen to some music to fall asleep, but the wind was whipping so harshly outside, it was making her uneasy. She hated storms more than anything. Would Harry mind if she crawled into bed with him? She could even sleep on the floor. She just didn’t want to be down here alone. She sighs and slowly gets out of the bed. She makes her way upstairs.

Harry’s bedroom was the entire upstairs, it was sort of like a loft. He had a king sized bed, a decent looking bedroom set, and an en suite. Y/N thought it was really nice, well, what she could make out of it since it was so dark.

“Harry?” She whispers. His head was in his pillow, sleeping on his tummy.

“Mm?” He grunts, clearly out of it.

“I’m a little scared downstairs, would it be alright if I slept on the floor up here?”

“Get in.” He mumbles.

“Really, are you sure? Because I-“

He flips some of the covers back, eyes still closed. Y/N takes a deep breath and gets into the bed. Max was half asleep, but he moves away from Harry to make room for her, plopping down near his feet. Y/N climbs in and faces away from him. This was such a large bed for one guy, and it made her wonder who was the last person to share it with him. She wanted to keep a respectful distance from him, but before she could start counting sheep, his arm was wrapped around her waist, pulling her close to him. Her breath hitched, but she could hear his steady breathing, he was definitely asleep. He must just sleep better when he’s holding onto something, she thinks.

//

Harry’s eyes flutter open around 5AM. He was used to getting up that early to take Max out, but for some reason he felt like he got some of the most restful sleep he’s gotten in a long time. He feels warm and cozy, and even though he knows he needs to get up and brave the cold so his dog could relieve himself, he found himself nuzzling in to whatever he was holding onto.

That’s when it hits him that he wasn’t dreaming last night, and Y/N genuinely came up into his room because she was feeling uneasy being all alone downstairs. She was still fully clothed, but he wasn’t he was only in his boxers. His leg was between hers, and she was pressed up against him. He wondered if she slept well like this. Just because he slept better holding onto something didn’t mean that she would.

He makes subtle movements, not wanting to wake her. He nearly winced leaving the warmth of the bed, but he got through it. Max pops his head up and Harry puts his finger up to his lips to signal that he needed to be quiet. Harry snatches his sweatpants and a pair of socks, and grabs Max to take him downstairs. He throws his coat and boots on, gets the leash on Max, and out the door he goes. He shoves his beanie down over his ears as he feels the wind whip around. There were snow drifts everywhere and it was still coming down. He uses the flashlight on his phone so Max could see what he was doing.

“Come on, buddy, I know it’s cold, but Daddy doesn’t wanna be out here long.” He wanted to get back to Y/N.

Once Max does his business, Harry gets him so food and fresh water. He strips himself of his jacket and socks, but leaves his sweatpants on. He was shirtless, but he was too groggy from the morning to care. Once Max is all set, Harry carries him upstairs so his collar doesn’t jingle around. He plops him on the bed, and he goes right over to Y/N to curl up with her. Harry uses the bathroom quick, brushing his teeth and all that, and then slowly slides back into bed. Y/N hadn’t moved, still laying on her side facing away from him, so he just wraps himself back around her. Well, he thought she hadn’t moved. The second she heard the door close downstairs, she sprinted down to “her” bathroom to wash up and brush her own teeth. She wasn’t sure if morning snuggles would ensue, but she wanted to be fresh if they did.

A sigh leaves Harry’s lips as he settles back in, pressing nice and close to her and keeping his arm around her waist. She gives it a few minutes, and then she adjust against him. She could tell he was wearing sweatpants now, and not just his boxers. She was subtle about it, not fully pressing her ass against him, just a simple adjustment, so he didn’t think anything of it. After another couple of moments, she presses back into him, and he involuntarily presses forward towards her. He was definitely starting to get hard. He grips her waist a little tighter as he continues to press into her.

“Mm, Harry?” She rolls onto her back to look up at him.

“Hi.” He moves his hand away from her lower stomach to move some hair away from her face. “How’d you end up here, hm?” He asks softly.

“Storms really scare me, and the wind was loud.” She starts smiling. “Feel much better now.” His hand slides down to cup her jaw. “I asked first and you told me to get in.”

“I did, didn’t I…”

“Pulled me right up close to you, it was nice.” She sighs.

“Can’t remember the last time I slept so well, to be honest.”

He lets go of her and flops onto his back, groaning. She rolls onto her side and props herself up with her elbow, resting her cheek on her palm.

“You make things so difficult for yourself. I’m not your TA right now.”

“But you will be again.”

“Because you wanted me to be.”

He looks at her and pouts.

“We’ll see each other more this way.”

“But…wouldn’t it be nice to go out on dates and touch and-“

“You’ve seen how busy I am, I rarely have time to see my friends as it is. I’d feel guilty for not being able to do those things with you.”

“You have me to yourself for the next four weeks, Harry, and the girls won’t be back until a week before school starts.”

“We’d have to stop when the semester starts back up, and wait again. I don’t know if I’ll be able to do that.”

“We could be discrete.”

“I’d have to be a little cold towards you.”

“You’re no stranger to that.” She scoffs.

“Y/N.” Harry’s hand finds her hip. “This is serious.”

“I’m about to graduate, from grad school, Harry. It’s not like I’m some eighteen year old girl sitting in one of your classes. I’m twenty-three, and you’re twenty-six, it’s really not that weird.”

“I’ll be twenty-seven next month.” He mutters.

“Great, then we can go out and celebrate when the time comes. Is there something in a handbook saying we can’t…do this?”

“It’s extremely frowned upon, I can assure you.” He groans again before speaking. “This is so frustrating, it’s not like you’re my first TA either, fuck, even I was a TA. Shit like this never happened. I’ve never been…attracted to someone I’ve worked with before.”

“You’re probably the only professor I’ve been into before.”

“See, right there, you had a thing for me when you were in my class only a couple of years ago, and-“

“And nothing happened then. You barely remembered me when I first came to your office. I was a flustered senior, that was it. Now…well, I know you now. I’m way less nervous around, I feel like I can really talk to you.”

“I feel the same way.” He sighs. “Fucking, Christ.” He yanks her down to her chest, and she yelps. His fingers scratch at her scalp and she nearly whimpers at how nice it feels to lay on his chest, having him play with her hair. “We can lay here a little longer, and then I need to go to move some of the snow.”

“I’m helping.” She puts a leg over his. “And you’re still a little…riled up, don’t you want to-“

“No.”

“But I could-“

“Y/N.” She looks up at him. “Just lay here with me.”

They both doze back off for a bit until Max starts barking. He must need to pee. Harry gets up and tells Y/N she can shower if she wants to.

“I’ll wait, I’ll get sweaty shoveling.”

“It’s my house, you don’t need to help.” He throws on a long sleeve shirt and thick socks. He looks at her crossing her arms over her chest. “Here.” He tosses her one of his sweaters. “Come on, Max.”

They all head downstairs. His sweater smelled just like him. She hoped she could keep this too just like with the pj’s he had given her a couple of months ago. He takes Max out quick, and then sets him back inside so he can get to shoveling. Y/N decides she could make him breakfast since he wouldn’t let her help outside.

She goes through his fridge and cupboards to find some different things. She wanted to make something that would take some time so it would be warm for him when he got inside.

“Muffins!” She says to herself as she rifles through his baking supplies.

She whips up a mixture of blueberry muffins and get them popped in the oven. She has the glorious idea to slice them in half and butt them up on his griddle when they’re done, just to give it a little crunch. Next, she cracks some eggs into the pan, and makes them sunny side down because she remembers him making them that way. She even finds some bacon to throw on the griddle.

When he comes inside, his nostrils are hit with everything she’s made. Everything was on plates on the kitchen table, and she was washing everything in the sink. He strips down to his boxers, having been drenched with sweat after digging out their cars. The snow was still falling, but it was good to get ahead of things before it all froze.

“Harry, I made…” She freezes when she looks at him. Seeing his full body in the light was much different than in the hazy darkness of his bedroom.

“I didn’t know I had blueberry muffins.” He says as he looks down at the plates.

“You, um, you didn’t, I made them.”

“From scratch?”

“Well, yeah.”

He picks up the muffin bottom and takes a bite. His eyes close for a second as he gets a good taste. It was buttery and a bit crisp from being on the griddle. It was perfection. He turns to her after he swallows.

“You’re…a literal angel.” He steps closer to her, and he notices her eyes drift down and back up. “I’ll go put some clothes, and then-“

She puts a hand on his chest. Her eyes plead with his. Just kiss me, she silently says to him.  His hands fly up to her jaw, and he pulls her in, lips crashing together, finally. She melts into him immediately. His tongue slides along her bottom lip, and she opens up for him. She can taste the blueberry muffin on him, and it makes her suck on his tongue. He groans against her, and his hands slide down to her ass to get a good squeeze. She wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him even closer.

“Harry.” She breathes against his lips.

He gets a good grip on her and lifts her up to sit her on the counter. He quickly draws the shades for the window above the sink so anyone out shoveling wouldn’t be able to see anything. He tugs at the sweater of his he was wearing and lifts it off her. Her legs open wide for him to stand between. His lips attach to the crook of her neck, sucking, licking, biting. Her hips buck towards his as she tugs at his hair. One of his hands lifts her shirt slightly, and she thinks he’s going to feel her breasts up, but instead his fingers find the band of her pajama pants. He stops to look at her.

“Can I?”

“Yes.”

His hand dips below, and it’s almost like he’s searching for something else.

“Are you not wearing any knickers?”

“No.” She blinks at him. “I don’t usually wear underwear to bed.”

“Jesus Christ.”

She opens her legs a little wider for him, and he groans when his fingers touch around her folds, and he feels her wetness sticking to him already. His other arm wraps around behind her to hold her close to him. He plays around with her, fingers rubbing all around until his middle finger slides in. She gasps, not having expected so much so soon, but she wasn’t complaining. She clutches at his shoulders when she feels another finger slip inside. He twists them around, just getting a feel for things, and he curls them up, knowing this was what she really wanted.

“Oh! Oh my god.” Her head rolls back. He was make that come here motion right on that sweet spot of her front wall. His lips find her neck again as he continues. His thumb starting to rub on her clit. “Oh fuck, Harry, oh my god.” She didn’t realize how whiney she could sound, but he loved. She was a mess for him.

“Been thinking about this for so long.” He says into her ear.

“Me too.” She was panting now. “It feels so good.”

“Yeah? Like having my fingers buried inside you?”

Her mouth falls open. He was into dirty talk and it made her clench around him.

“Yes, oh my fucking god, yes.” She bites down on his collar bone to try to muffle any louder noises, but he was knuckle deep, fucking her with his fingers, it was no use. “Harry, I’m so close, oh fuck!”

His hand around her waist reaches up to tug at the back of her head. He wanted to watch her go through the motions. He wanted to see just how good he was making her feel. Her eyes rolls into the back of her head as she continues to beck forward. Her release was long, and so very good. She cried out, maybe a little louder than she should have, but he wasn’t telling her to keep it down. Did he want his neighbors to hear? Did he want them to know how good he could fuck someone?

He slows down his motions inside of her, helping her through the aftershocks, and then he slowly retracts his fingers. He sucks them into his mouth and then steps away from her. She was breathless. He kisses her cheeks and then helps her hop down from the counter.

“You made such a nice breakfast, let’s not let it go to waste.”

“Harry…” She watches him sit down.

“What?”

“Don’t you want to-“

“I’m all sweaty, I’d like to take a shower before going further if that’s alright with you.”

“Okay.”

She sits down with him and eats her food that she was now ravenous for.

“You really made this from scratch?”

“Yeah, I’m glad you like it.”

“It’s delicious.”

They finish eating and decide to clean up later. She follows him upstairs to his shower. He helps her out of her clothes and lets her get in first. She throws her hair up into a bun so it doesn’t get soaked. He rids himself of his boxers and gets in behind her. She moves aside so he can wash up. She presses her front to his back, and her hands roam along his long torso.

“You made me feel so good, I think it’s your turn.”

She kisses on his back while she starts to stroke his hardening length. It felt so big in her hand. Harry’s head falls to his chest, and he presses a palm to the tile wall to keep himself grounded. She runs her thumb over his tip and he groans. He grabs her hand and turns around. He backs her up to the opposite wall, cradling the back of her head as he basically slams her against it. His lips are on hers in seconds. Everything felt hot and wet, and just otherworldly. Y/N couldn’t enough. In the back of her head she kept thinking that she couldn’t believe this was happening. It wasn’t often that she got what she wanted.

“Please, fuck me.” She says against his lips.

“I don’t have any condoms.” He kisses down her neck and kneads her breasts.

“I’m on the pill.”

“S’not what I’m worried about.” He pulls his head back to look at her. “Are you clean?”

“I am, actually. I was tested last time I went to the doctor. Are you?”

“I am.” He smiles. “So…you really wanna feel all of me? Just like that?”

“Yes.” She whines. “Please.”

He kisses her and bites on her bottom lip, sucking on it as he pleases. He lifts one of legs up over his hip, and uses his other hand to line himself up. She was still plenty wet, so he’s able to push inside.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He grunts, trying to push further inside her. “So tight.”

“I…Christ, I think you’re just really big.” She gasps once he’s all the way inside.

His head drops to watch himself slowly thrust in and out of her. He bites his bottom lip at the sight. He looks back up at her, watching her features.

“Are you comfortable?”

“Could you maybe just hold my leg up?”

Harry nods and hooks his arm under leg, driving in deeper. Her head rolls back against the tile. Once he knew she was okay, he didn’t let up. He was fucking her hard and fast, only slowing up so he could hear her whimper and beg for more. Her nails were clawing at his back, and it was just egging him on. He uses his other hand to rub at her clit. She was starting to breathe heavier, moan after moan leaving her lips. He could tell she was close.

“Gonna come again for me?”

“Yes, fuck, I’m almost there, Harry!”

He sucks the tender skin of her neck between his teeth, and that’s what pushes her over the edge. Her senses totally overwhelmed. He gasps when he feels how deeply her nails dig into him from going through the motions of her orgasm. He pulls out of her quickly and comes on her stomach. He’s out of breath, pressing kisses to her cheek and neck.

“No going back now.” He says as he caresses her cheek.

“Nope.” She smiles.

He pecks her lips and turns back around to stand in the water again. Her eyes grow wide and he winces once the water cascades over him.

“Harry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize I was hurting you.”

“It didn’t hurt while it was happening, is it bleeding?” He looks over his shoulder trying to see for himself.

“Um…I broke the skin, but it’s not bloody.” She blushes. “Yikes, that’s embarrassing.”

“No it’s not.” He chuckles and moves so she can rinse her stomach off in the water. She turns it off and they both step out to towel off. “I wasn’t hurting you was I?”

“No, oh my god, it felt so good. Feels like I’m still throbbing.”

He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her close. She rests her hands on his chest.

“Do you like ice skating?”

“What?” She laughs. “Yeah, I love it, why?”

“Because once this storm is over, m’taking you on a proper date.” He kisses her forehead and lets her go. “Would you like that?”

“I’d love it.”

Harry was so peculiar, Y/N thought. One second he’s saying they can’t be together and the next he wants to take her out on a date. What she didn’t know was that he had never felt quite so good while having sex. It wasn’t because she felt incredibly tight around him, it had more to do with the trust and natural connect. He felt happy, a feeling he thought would never return.

//

To Y/N’s surprise, Harry was a really good ice skater. The two of them were like a real couple. He would visit her at work, they’d go out to the bar with his friends, and they’d have sleep overs at each other’s places. He quite liked her apartment. Not to mention, he couldn’t keep his hands off her. If they were going for a brisk walk, his hand was in hers. If they were sitting through a move, his arm was around her shoulders, and of course they were having a lot of sex. Even when she had her period, he fucked her.

“Got my red wings years ago, promise it doesn’t gross me out.” He had told her.

And god, when he ate her out. Sometimes they wouldn’t even have full on sex. Sometimes they’d be on the couch, and he’d ask if she would ride her face, and then they would just sixty-nine. Sometimes she would just blow him because she liked the way his come tasted. Harry drank a fuck ton of pineapple juice, even before they started hooking up, he always had a small can of it in his office. He just liked the taste. They were just intimate in all sorts of ways, totally comfortable.

It was when Nessa and Charlotte returned that Harry’s bubbled had to burst. School would be starting in a week, and he needed to make sure his shit was together. He had been to the office a few times, working to make sure his courses were together. He and Y/N were professional and went over the class she would be the TA for.

“This is gonna have to be what it’s like when school starts again, don’t forget.” He would say. It killed her, but she would never do anything to put his job at risk, even if she didn’t think their situation was all that serious. She had to respect his wishes.

“I’d feel more comfortable if you slept over at my place since their home.”

“Harry, they know what’s been going on…Niall and Charlotte still talk, and they-“

“I don’t care, I’d rather you be here…and only on the weekends.”

“What?”

“Saturday nights can be our night. On the weekends, you’re not my TA.”

“What will I be then?”

“My girl.”

They had put the boyfriend/girlfriend label chat on the back burner, but that was all she needed to hear to know that she was really his, and he certainly didn’t want someone else trying to steal her away. He had gotten her a necklace, it was simple, but very much her style. A way of showing her how much she truly meant to him.

“Anytime during the week you’re feeling like I don’t want you because I can’t show my affection, this will be your reminder of how much I care.”

She thought it was incredibly sweet, and it was nice to have the reassurance. When classes started, it was definitely difficult. The one thing getting her through this first week was his birthday party on Saturday. Just a small thing with friends at the bar, but still. They wouldn’t have to hide there, or so she thought. Some other professors were invited to the party, which meant Harry couldn’t touch Y/N. He frowned immediately. He wasn’t in charge of the guest list. He pulls Y/N to the side before they walk into the main area.

“I’m so sorry, I promise when we get back to my place later I’m gonna love on you all night.”

“Harry, it’s okay. It’s your birthday, I’m the one that’ll be doing the loving. Go on, enjoy.”

He gives her a discrete peck on the cheek, and then walks into the main room to say hello to everyone. Y/N invited Charlotte and Nessa, so she had other people to talk to. Niall’s arm was hooked around Charlotte’s waist the entire night. Y/N and Nessa teased her every chance they got.

“I’ve been told to check in on you. Orders from the birthday boy.” Louis says to Y/N.

“Thanks.” She chuckles. “It’s okay. Next year things will be totally different.”

“Really see things lasting then, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

“I think so, yeah. If the person who he said actually retires, I’m hoping to be able to work at the university to start out.”

“That would be great. He raves about you, you know? He’s a simple guy, likes being domestic. I think he said one of his favorite things to do with you is just cook a meal together.”

“Aw, he’s so sweet.” She pouts. “I like doing that too.”

Harry was mingling with everyone that came out for his birthday. Everyone sang to him, a cake was made him too. The second he tasted it he knew Y/N had baked it. He thought at the least they could have their picture taken together, that wouldn’t look weird.

“Harry!” One of the faculty members, Constance, comes over to him, a young woman by her side. “There’s someone I want you to meet, this is my daughter, Angie.”

“Oh! Hi, I’ve heard a lot about you.” He politely shakes her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you too.” She blushes.

“I’ll leave you to it.” Constance winks and walks away.

“I’m so sorry about her. She conned me into coming here, hope I’m not crashing your birthday.”

“You’re not.” He looks back at Y/N and then to Angie. “So, this is a set up then?”

“She seems to think we have a lot in common.”

“And perhaps we might, but…I’m sort of seeing someone. It’s a…long distance thing, so she’s not here tonight, unfortunately.”

“Oh! She could have sworn you were single, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright. I’m sure you’re lovely, I just really like this woman and I don’t want to screw it up.” He smiles and she nods.

Harry finally makes his way over to Y/N and Louis.

“Do me a favor,” He says to Louis, taking out his phone. “Take a picture of us.”

“Are you sure?” Y/N asks.

“Positive.” He smiles and puts an arm around her shoulders. Louis snaps a couple of shots and hands Harry his phone back. “Sorry you won’t be able to post these…”

“Well, I could, my insta is private, but we can talk about it later.”

“Lou, could you drop Y/N off at my place when this is over, we drove together, but I don’t wanna risk anyone seeing us leave in the same car.”

“Course, mate.”

Harry nods and walks away to continue talking to other people.

“He acts like you’re his student. I don’t see anything wrong with you two doing what you’re doing.”

“I don’t either.” She sighs. “But he worked so hard to get where he is, I have to respect doing things his way. It was a long week, but I’m happy to be going back to his place later.”

Y/N’s lips were on Harry’s the second he let her through the door. He made sure to get home before her so they didn’t even leave at the same time. She had him pushed against the wall and his hands were all over her.

“Missed you so fucking much.” He says, walking her back towards the living room. “And I loved the watch you got me, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Wanted to.” She starts unbuttoning his shirt and pushes him down on the couch, straddling him in no time.

“Gonna let me lick it, angel?”

“Is that what you want?”

“You have no idea. You’re as sweet as the cake you made me.”

“How did-“

“Y/N, I know it’s only been a month, but I’d know your baked goods anywhere.” He smirks.

She giggles and stands up to unbutton her jeans. He yanks them down her legs along with her panties and she kicks them to the side. Harry lays down on the couch and Y/N hovers over his face. He liked it better this way. One, he didn’t have to get on his knees and suffer through the pain of being on the hardwood. Two, he liked the way Y/N would just ride his tongue.

Max was upstairs, thanks to the gate. So they didn’t have to worry about him coming down and jumping on them.

“Fuck, Harry.” She moans. “Your tongue feels so good.” She rocks her hips back and forth on him, the stubble from his chin feeling extra delicious. He moans against her, lapping up every drop. “You like that, birthday boy? Like having me on you like this?” She looks down at him and see his eyes rolling into the back of his head. He sucks on her clit harshly, and that pushes her over the edge. “Oh, fuck!”

Once she’s through, she climbs off him. Before she knows it, he’s throwing her over his shoulder to bring her upstairs. He gives her bum a smack and she squeals. Y/N left plenty of scratch marks on Harry that night.

//

Y/N was antsy for every weekend. The weeks dragged on, and the weekends went by in a flash. Then she remembered something wonderful.

“Spring break!” She says, bursting into their shared office.

“What about it?” Harry chuckles.

“Two weeks off without the students!” She leans a little closer to him. “Two weeks of me not being your TA.” She grins and then sits down in her seat.

“We’ll be grading, darling.” He says nonchalantly.

“This is a pet name free zone, remember?”

“Sorry.” He smirks. “Didn’t think ‘darling’ would get your knickers in twist.”

“Fuck off.” She rolls her eyes. “Do we seriously have to grade? Can’t we do fun things? I have time off from school, I don’t wanna do anything.”

“M’surprised you don’t want to go home or go with your friends somewhere.”

“I’ve done the whole go to Florida and get blitzed thing, I’m all set. And I may go home for a couple of days, but I don’t really like being home long. Somehow I get stuck doing chores, and I get aggravated.”

“I’ll tell you what, if we get through enough of the grading, we can do something really fun.”

“Deal.” She smiles.

Sometimes Y/N felt like this was only hard for her, but it killed Harry. He had fantasies of bending Y/N over his desk, or even just kissing her good morning. He even started letting her come over on Friday nights instead of Saturday because he just couldn’t wait any longer. He knew he was being overly careful, but he just couldn’t risk it.

//

Harry stayed true to his word. They got through a lot of the grading so drove them out to the coast for a walk on the pier at a large beach. It was still too chilly for real beach weather, but there were less people around this time of year, and some of the shops were open. Y/N clung to Harry’s arm and they both just enjoyed the fresh air and the scenery. He took her to a nice dinner, and then they walked for a bit to watch the sunset.

“This was the perfect day.” She sighs as they begin their drive back to his place.

“It really was.” His rests his hand on her thigh and gives it a squeeze. “I love you, Y/N.”

She whips her head to look at him. His eyes were focused on the road. Tears start to prick at her eyes. No one ever said that to her before. She had been in relationships, but she never really got to a point for such strong words, and she certainly never felt it back.

“I love you, too.”

“Aw, look at us.” He smiles. “Two people in love.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to say that…” She sniffles.

“Hey, no need to cry, darling.”

“I just…no one’s ever told me they loved me before.”

“What?!” He squeezes her leg tighter. “But there’s so much to love. You’re kind, caring, an incredible baker, witty, funny, brilliant-“

“Harry, please.” She chuckles. “When we get home we’re making love.”

“I’ve made love to you before, just didn’t say anything. Anytime we’re really soft and careful, I’m making love to you.”

“God.” Her face flushes, thinking of the many sensual times he’s touched her. “Well, I can’t wait to do it again.”

//

It was a Tuesday, which meant Y/N wouldn’t be in the office with Harry. She had class and then a shift at Bento’s. He wanted her to be able to nap in between. He saw that the open IDS position had been posted, and he emailed her immediately. He couldn’t wait to work on her resume and cover letter together.

“Harry?” Constance knocks on the outside of his door.

“Hey, Connie! Come on in.” He beams at her. She squints at his collar, seeing just the top of a love bite.

“Did you see that girlfriend of yours this weekend?” She asks, as she sits down.

“Sure did.” He smiles. “I saw her for a while over spring break too, told her I loved her, and she said it back. I’m on cloud nine. M’sorry things didn’t line up with your daughter, she’s a very pretty girl. My friend Lou is single, maybe-“

“Harry, Harry.” She chuckles. “No worries at all, she’s been dating around a bit. I shouldn’t have just assumed you were single, and that’s great that you two are doing so well. I think I thought you weren’t seeing anyone because with your last girlfriend…well…you had pictures of her on your desk, and you gushed about her. We don’t even know this one’s name.”

“You will soon enough.” Harry did have pictures of Y/N, they were just discrete. His lock screen was the picture of them at his birthday, and his wallpaper was just a picture of her. He could look at her whenever he wanted. “She’s, uh, finishing up grad school.”

“Oh, good for her! Anyways, I came here to chat with you about my sabbatical. Obviously it’s turned into a full year instead of just the fall semester. We’re going to have a department meeting, but I wanted to see how you’d feel about stepping in as department chair while I’m gone.”

“Are you serious?!” He perks up.

“Yes.” She chuckles.

“That would be a dream! I have so many ideas, and-“

“It would mean you wouldn’t be able to teach as many classes, and you’ll have more responsibilities over winter and summer break.”

“That’s no problem, honestly. I only go to London for a couple of weeks, I’m usually in the area for summer. I’d love to give it a go. I didn’t think I’d be next in line.”

“It’s coming from my own suggestion. I’ve been doing this a long time, and I think you’d be great at it. It would sort of be a trial, and then when I come back we could reflect on the experience.”

Harry was buzzing, absolutely buzzing. He needed to tell Y/N about his good news, so he hops in his car, and zips over to her apartment. She was vegging out in a t-shirt and panties with Nessa and Charlotte, who were both dressed in the same thing. They hear the bell on their door.

“Who the fuck is that? It’s nearly nine.” Nessa says.

“No idea.” Y/N says, getting up to check it out. She sees Harry through the peephole. Her eyebrows raise, but she opens the door. “Dr. Styles, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Y/N, I’m sorry for…” He looks her up and down. “This is how you open the door?!”

“I saw it was you.” She shrugs and steps aside to let him in.

“Hi, Harry.” Charlotte and Nessa say at the same time.

“Hi girls.” He smiles and looks at Y/N. “I got great news today and I just had to see you, can we got to your room?”

“Of course.” Once they’re both in there, they sit on her bed. “So what’s up? I got your email about the job, I’m really excited.”

“Good news for both of us today. Connie, my department chair, came by to see me today, and she wants me to be department chair while she’s on sabbatical next year while she’s gone. It would be like a trial run. Me! Department chair! I have so many ideas, this is the opportunity I’ve been hoping for.”

“Oh, Harry.” She throws her arms around him. “That’s incredible, I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks.” He holds her in his arms for a moment and then lets her go so he can stand up. “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Harry…” She whines.

“Don’t start, I just wanted to see your face when I told you.”

“You could have FaceTimed me.”

“Oh.” He shakes his head. “It’s been a long day.” He chuckles.

“You can stay.”

“No, I can’t.” He caresses one of her cheeks. “I want to, but I can’t. Soon, babe, so soon.”

“Um…” She stands up and looks down. “If I get this job…I mean…the lease for this place is up June first, and…well…the girls are going to be working in schools, and won’t need to live here anymore, and…I mean, I could find new roommate and sign a new lease...”

“Or, you could come move in with me.” He takes her hands in his and kisses her knuckles.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I want you to. I want you around all the time. Being apart from you during the week really fucks with how clingy I naturally am.” He smirks.

“I like it, though. We spend all weekend in your big, comfy bed.”

“Look forward to it every week.” He sighs happily. “Just gotta get through you walking across that stage, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright.” He kisses her cheek. “I love you, sweet dreams.”

“I love you too.”

//

Harry helped Y/N apply for the job, and after two nerve-wracking rounds of interviews, and two weeks of pure stress that even Harry’s cock couldn’t squash, she got the call that she got the job. Harry took Y/N out to celebrate, they both nearly cried when she got the call. She told her parents and they were ecstatic.

“In a few years, if you feel like it, you could get your PhD for free through the university.” He says to her as they’re laying in bed.

“Hm, three degrees from the same place.” She taps her chin. “Doesn’t seem like a great idea.”

“If you can do it for free, you should. It was the smartest thing I ever did. Well that, and giving into you.”

“Giving into me?!” She laughs. “You make it sound like I seduced you.”

“I fell for you so hard. You’re just so wonderful.” He pouts. “Are your parents excited to meet me in a couple of weeks? I’m excited to meet them.”

“They’re definitely curious to see who the guy I’m going to be moving in with is.”

“Are you going to miss the girls?”

“So much! They’ve been great to live with. Nessa’s moving in with Andy. She found a college in the city he works in to teach at. She’s so good at putting productions together, I’m excited for her. Charlotte may be in the area, though. Something tells me the school she’ll be teaching at is close by to Niall.”

“I’ve never seen him so smitten. He takes the more serious part of a relationship slow, but once he’s in he’s in.” He pulls her closer to him. “Everything’s falling into place. I’ve been working with Connie to get prepared for the fall, and I couldn’t be more excited.”

“I’m really proud of you.”

“I’m proud of you too, babe.”

//

The day they had both been waiting for was finally here. The graduate ceremony was in the evening, separate from the undergraduate ceremony. Y/N wouldn’t be able to see Harry until after the ceremony. She was busy with her parents and younger siblings. Harry may have clapped and cheered extra loud when she walked across the stage. Most people around him thought it was just because she had been his TA for an entire year. Literally no one suspected more was going on between them. After today it wouldn’t matter anyways.

There was a champagne reception after the ceremony. Y/N easily found her family.

“We’re so proud of you honey. Another degree, a new job, and you’re moving in with a guy!” Her mom says.

“I’m still not thrilled about the last part. We don’t even know him.” Her dad says.

“But I do, so it’s a good thing I’m the one living with him, not you.”

Harry makes his way through the crowd over to her and her family. He takes a deep breath, and when she spots him she squeals. She runs over and jumps into his arms. They kiss as he swings her around.

“You did it!”

“I did it!” They both jump up and down for a moment. “Come on.” She holds his hand to bring him over to everyone. “Harry, these are my parents, and my two younger siblings. Ellie is going to be a senior in college this fall, and Ryan is going to be a sophomore. He’s actually transferring here in the fall.”

“That’s great! Hi, it’s so nice to meet all of you.” He shakes everyone’s hands.

“Damn, a PhD.” Ellie whispers to her sister and winks. “Nice job.” The girls giggle together.

They all decide to go out to dinner together to get to know each other better. Harry and Y/N would be meeting up with Charlotte, Nessa, and the others at the bar once dinner was over. Y/N explains how they waited a while to make things official because Harry wanted to make sure things remained professional. Harry easily impressed her parents. He was incredibly smart and knew how to work people over. Even her dad was happy with him.

Y/N got pretty drunk at the bar with her friends, and Harry was able to keep his arms around her all night without a care in the world. When he got her inside his place, he couldn’t stop kissing her and telling her much he loved her over and over. She was excited to start her new job in a couple of weeks, and he was excited she genuinely wanted to stay, and wasn’t just doing this for him. They would spend the time before starting her job to get her all moved in. They even talked about getting a larger place at some point.

“I can’t wait to snuggle with Mac every night.” She giggles as she gets into bed.

“Hey, what about me?” He pouts.

“I guess you’re nice to snuggle with too.” She jokes.

“Mhm.” He kisses on her and hovers over her. “My girl’s got her master’s. You’re so fucking smart, it turns me on.”

“Really?”

“When we did those mock interviews in my office I couldn’t stop thinking about fucking you.”

“Does this mean we can get a little sneaky in your office now?” She raises an eyebrow at him. “Or are you staying firm with your open door policy?”

“Think I may have to reconsider it, but only for you.”

[merakiui]

Half-Off Love

yandere!scaramouche x (gender neutral) reader art credit - kentasha1236 on twt cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, gold-digging, implied yandere!childe note - thank you so much for 600 followers! o(≧∇≦o) I’ll work hard!

It’s strange. There’s no other adjective to describe the situation you’ve found yourself in. 

The ring slides itself onto your steady finger and it’s a miracle your discomfort doesn’t show. Your eyes struggle to meet his, but when they do you’re searching for a reason—for a meaning behind such a generous gift. You’ve witnessed this scene plenty of times before, having scoffed at the couples who decide to take their relationship to the next level. Whether it be in Mondstadt or Liyue, you’ve watched your fair share of angelic proposals. Although this is far from a proposal—at least, you hope it’s not a proposal. You’d feel powerless to decline if Scaramouche put you in such a position, and you’re almost certain he’s aware of this. 

But the main thing—you now realize—that’s holding him back is your status and his relationship with you. It’s nothing special, just mere physical attraction rather than the emotional hindrances that come with real, heart-racing love. There’s nothing wholesome in the way you regard one another; it’s just sex. 

“Do you like it? I made sure to find only the highest quality gemstone for you.”

And yet when he performs this caring charade, it doesn’t feel like loveless copulation. 

Ew, you think, plastering a smile to your face. Since when was Scaramouche so concerned with materialistic signs of affection? He’s far from loving; he’s just pent-up, frustrated from his rigorous job as a Harbinger and so he decides to use you as a means of coping. He almost sounds like Childe with his ineffective flirting methods. You’ve received your fair share of spoils from him as well, and you’ve done everything you could to cull that relationship before it grew out of hand. But now you’re stuck with the lesser side of the coin: another troublesome Fatui Harbinger. 

If you didn’t know any better, you might think to chase after Signora or Dottore next. Maybe you’ll aim for the Tsaritsa Herself if you’re especially daring. After all, your life has been nothing but deceit and faux pleasures; there’s little value to a liar’s life. If the Archons wish for your swift end, you’re positive it’ll be a result of your insatiable greed.

“It’s lovely. The color matches my eyes.”

It doesn’t, but you lie about it anyways. And he looks pleased to hear your approval. 

“Then perhaps I should get you a bracelet as well? Or would you prefer something with a little more use, such as a pocket watch?”

Why don’t you just lock me up with a collar instead? you think bitterly, already keen on pawning the ring off once the initial luster fades. Since you’re so eager to buy these things for me in hopes that I’ll return. It’s annoying.

“This is more than enough. I don’t want you to spend a fortune on me.” There’s a sweet lilt in your voice as your hand cups his cheek, and he leans into your warm touch, starved of the affection like a stray mutt. ”I only need you per our agreement. You do remember what that is, right?”

He’d be caught dead bending to the desires of someone so insignificant, but he just can’t stay away. Not when your every word is intoxicating poison he’ll readily ingest. 

“I’m aware." There’s a sigh in his tone as he pulls away, almost as if he wants to simply sit there and indulge in playful conversation. As if he actually wants to familiarize himself with the real you. But that emotion doesn’t last for long and an irritated expression crawls onto his handsome face as he silently recalls something. 

You’re slipping your silks off with grace, curiously tracking his movements. “You look upset. Was it because of what I said?”

“Of course not. You could never upset me.”

Until you get bored of me.

When you cast your robes aside, reaching for Scaramouche’s elaborate outfit, you murmur, “Let me guess. It was that traveler again, wasn’t it? I’m not sure why you’re so hung up on them.” A whimper leaks into your voice and you fix him with a pout. “I’m sad you’d think of others when I’m right here. Aren’t I the only one you need?”

It’s ironic how quickly that line hooks him, dragging him up from the murkiest depths of love that has skewed into obsession. When you tried it out on Childe, he wasn’t so easily swayed. You find their differences to be invigorating. If the arrangement with Childe was still ongoing, you might’ve considered a threesome, if only to wring more glittering treasures out of the both of them. Mora and jewelry galore, it all goes towards your stockpiled savings. And it’s times like these when you’re lucky to have avoided economic business with the Fatui. Being free of Fatui debt has its perks, a bright miracle in your dark relationships. That’s one less tether to Scaramouche and one less reason to cling to him after you’ve had enough. 

He smirks at your forced envy, easily pushing you backwards onto the plush mattress once he’s fully undressed. For a brief moment, he pictures your pliant body sprawled across an office desk while he pounds into you from behind, putting on a lewd show for his leering underlings. There’s something arousing about your secret relationship that has strange ideas formulating within his head. He entertains a simple scheme, one in which he’d shed light on your connection; however, the other side of him wants to keep your existence for himself, where no one will disturb the two of you in your pleasurable endeavors.

Perhaps you would truly belong to him if he were to expose you for the fraud you really are. Oh, the joy of trapping an unsuspecting rat in a corner, with no way out but into his open arms. You’ll hardly have any semblance of a choice, but he knows you’ll choose the option that guarantees another chance at life.

Scaramouche thinks about that as he revels in soft, tantalizing foreplay. He knows you aren’t as dedicated to this relationship as he is and he’s almost certain you’ve got others waiting for you in different parts of Teyvat. He’s just another plaything you’ve picked up for the fun of it. And in these moments where you surrender to his touch, your back arching with avaricious thoughts, you seem to forget about the power he truly wields. The thought that he could suffocate you in this very bed with his love alone should have you taking precautions to cover your vulnerability, but you only have your eyes set on one thing—not exactly minding the outcome so long as it’s monetarily favorable.

And if playing into your covetous hands ensures your weekly arrival, he’ll gladly empty his pockets of spare change.

You don’t like this new side of him. Lately he’s been treating this as if the two of you are lovers: slow, sensual thrusts accompanied with the sweetest of promises. You’ve never really minded the filth he’d moan in your ear and now you wish he’d resort to that instead. Loveless words spoken through the veil of lust—that’s what you want to hear.  

He envelops you like a smothering fog, fitting himself snugly inside of your tight hole in an embrace that’s oh so familiar. You aren’t used to such gentle treatment and as he kisses along your collarbone you feel yourself going under, having fallen victim to a Harbinger who is normally so cold-hearted. Perhaps he’s more sensitive than you originally thought. Months ago, you wouldn’t have imagined your relationship would grow into something so uncertain, where emotionless love becomes packaged and bogged down with so much feeling.

His lips ghost over yours and there’s a slight pause in his actions. You turn your head to the side, denying his choking affection before it can drag you further into a spiraling abyss of regret. Annoyance swells in his hazy gaze, but he uses your new position to his advantage.

“It’s cute,” he says in a hushed voice, breath tickling your ear, “how you seem to rid yourself of my gifts as soon as they fall into your hands. I wonder where they’ve gone. Into the harbor? Traded off for food and shelter? Do tell me.”

When his grip on your hip tightens to a threatening degree, you resign yourself, opting to hold your tongue as his pace remains brutally slow. Rather than speaking out of line, you raise your hand to his face, and he clasps your wrist in a forceful hold. 

The look in his eyes is far from loving—it’s that same obsessed expression Childe wore. And even if he still searches for you for reasons other than sex, you’re aware there’s no luck where Scaramouche is concerned. You can run from Childe because he’ll allow it—because he adores the chase—but Scaramouche hardly finds delight in a game of cat and mouse. You should’ve expected this. After all, he is just as conniving as the rest, always inventing new ways to track down and eradicate that peculiar traveler. Of course he would know about how you handle his presents when he isn’t looking because there’s no denying the stern gazes that would pierce through your backside whenever you went to the market.

"I’d never throw them out like that...” you mumble through another soft moan, hoping he’ll just pick up the pace and be done with you. “Your gifts are priceless.”

And yet the price for your own love is so hefty. If he weren’t Fatui, it might be enough to throw him into lifelong debt.

“Is that so? You seem to put a price on them whenever you visit the marketplace.” His fingers grip your chin, forcing you into an inescapable eye contact. “If you enjoy putting prices on items that you claim are priceless, you won’t mind if I collect a refund for your dishonesty.”

“A...refund?” 

Your lustful thoughts evaporate once you realize his pace has become horribly slow, his dick stilling and creating an itch of barely noticeable ecstasy. You wiggle your hips to increase the friction, wanting to get yourself off before his words can sour the mood. Though it’s already spoiled when you recognize the carnal victory shining in his twisted smirk. Your unfortunate fate was sealed the moment you welcomed his company with foolish openness, and you’ve been indebted ever since he decided to spoil you with lavish foods and accessories. 

For love that is far from cheap, interest must be paid and your very being makes for the perfect bargain.

It’s weird when he kisses you on your lips rather than on the parts of your body that are normally obscured with delicate cloth. And it’s even weirder when that metaphorical collar binds your throat in a vice. It’s more harrowing than any sort of debt you might’ve garnered and it’s just as inconvenient as his boyish adoration.

Scaramouche doesn’t have to purchase your flimsy, half-off love when it’s already prepackaged and ready for the taking. 

“You heard me. A refund is hardly enough punishment for a lying brat, but it will have to suffice for now.”

For now.

Spurred on by his own insinuating threats, he seeks to bruise your very insides with thrusts that are filled with physical vexation rather than the emotional ministrations from before. And since you’re so accustomed to him, your greedy hole eagerly welcomes him. 

[yeojaa]

come over, pt. i

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.  rating.  explicit.  tags.  this is pwp.  smut in the forms of:  kissing, oral (m/f), fingering, deepthroating, hickeys, protected sex.  use of the pet name shy girl.  wc. 6.2k.  beta reader.  @hobi-gif and @snackhobi aka the loves of my tiny life.  author note.  this is an adaption of an rp with my beloved @velvetwicebang​.  while the writing is all my own, i owe so much to loma for inspiring me and being such a wonderful partner. 💛 if you enjoy this, feedback goes a long way.  tysm for reading!  (and yes, there will be a second part.)

You’ve been friends for thirteen months, classmates for another three before that.  You’ve worked on countless projects together, watched him fall off a roof, and have had to bail him out of campus security’s grubby little hands. Your friendship is easy, based on mutual suffering in Professor Kim’s class and long study dates spent in the library.  He smuggled you chocolates in his pockets and you brought iced coffee to the 8 a.m. lecture you shared.

You’re not sure why you’re riddled with uncertainty now then, every nerve ending shot, lit up bright like the still-up mini Christmas tree sitting in the corner of your dorm room.  (You know you should take it down but it’s so cute, slouched ever with a tiny gold star-shaped bell hanging from the end.).  

Spending time with Jungkook was normal - a part of your weekly routine - but then again, you hadn’t somehow developed a weird little crush on him until recently.  

(If you think hard, you could probably pinpoint it to a night a few weeks ago when he looked particularly good, fluffy powder puff of hair stripped of shadow and gleaming gold beneath the warm lecture lights.  You’d never had a thing for blonds but he made it look good - surprising you when he’d dropped into his seat beside you and winked in response to your surprise.) 

(It’s something you can't tear your thoughts from now, that infuriatingly charming smile burnt into your retinas.  It sits at the forefront of your mind, stealing your attention from the movie that's playing on the television hung across from your bed.  One of those blockbuster flicks, because who didn’t love gratuitous action and lens flares?)

A hand reaches for the chip bowl propped between you - homemade chex mix, because you’ve been obsessed with the recipe since discovering it a few weeks ago - and you flinch away when it brushes the hand that's already in there.

"Sorry!"  You squeak before coughing, a quick-witted (but not altogether believable) attempt at hiding the sudden heat that flares across your cheeks.  The same hand disappears between your knees, fingers curling into the soft throw laid over your legs.  You tell yourself to relax at least three times before speaking, peeking at your companion from beneath a fringe of sleep-tousled strands.  “Stop stealing all my chips.” 

The boy beside you only grins, tosses that lazy smile in your direction before turning his attention back to the explosion on the screen, entire expression lit up by the fireworks that explode in flashes of colour.

You think you’ve gotten away with it - that he hasn’t noticed - and then he’s speaking again, pointedly staring forward, seemingly unbothered.  (You know better though.  Jungkook’s infuriating like that, picking up on all the little things despite the fact that he’s a dumb boy, too good at reading between the lines when he barely studies.)

“You’re blushing.”

The callout is, well, uncalled for. 

You choose to ignore him at first, opting to shove two chocolates past your lips.  They’re unbearably sweet, minty and cold - your favourite - and the richness spills across your tongue, eliciting a soft hum as your teeth buzz from the sugar.  (Note to self:  thank Jungkook for the chocolate later.)

“You’re blushing,”  you retort once you’ve swallowed, cheeks puffed out and a dent gathering between your brows.  “I’m just—“  Hand waves wildly - nearly hits him in the face with how wobbly it is - and you pretend-glare at him, faux affront laid in spades.  “—hot.”

It comes snappier than you mean it to, spoken in something close to a pout.  You aren’t actually.  The campus is notorious for having garbage heating, floorboards more akin to packed snow in the dead of winter.  It’s just annoying.  You refuse to be another one of those girls.

(Not that there’s anything wrong with said girls.  It’s more an issue with Jungkook, stupidly handsome and charming and far too popular for his own good.  People already told you all about Jungkook’s escapades - even though you often heard them from him firsthand and in gruelling detail.  One of the downsides to being friends with someone who, for all intents and purposes, carried the title of campus heartthrob.) 

“Pay attention to the movie.”  The same hand reaches for the mix again, careful to avoid brushing his this time.  You think you’ve succeeded, snatching up a piece of pretzel, morsel halfway to your mouth when it drops to your lap.

The same lap that suddenly has a hand on it, palm warm over your knee.  

If you’d thought your nerve endings were shot, now you knew they were.  Every inch of skin was on fire - heat shooting up your spine and over your neck the moment his hand comes in contact with bare skin.  Damn your need for comfort, damn your choice to wear shorts, damn his freaking hot tattooed hands—

You almost yell at him.  The sound’s on the tip of your tongue when you bite down, stare trained wholly on the movie and the blood that splatters across the screen..

Really, you shouldn't be surprised.  You’ve known Jungkook for nearly two years - okay, not quite.  You’ve heard all the rumours about him, the whispered words that sound something like playboy and flirt and be careful.  You know and yet you’ve found yourself in this situation, desperately trying to figure out what the hell is going through his mind as you stare straight ahead, refusing to move a muscle.  

His profile is picture perfect from your periphery;  he's focused too, acting like he's done nothing wrong.  Sly as a fox, as always.

“Still blushing,”  he repeats conversationally, as if he’s commenting on the colour of the sky or how cold it is in your room.  Not as if he’s got a hand where it shouldn’t be, ink spilling over his skin in pretty patterns, burning the shape of it where he touches.

"I didn't blush.”  It’s a retort made for only argument’s sake and even then, without weight.  Feather soft and feeble in an attempt to keep your voice level.  It's hard when you’re burning up, a livewire settled where you feel him.  "I'm not blushing."

It's a lie - you can feel the flush, embarrassment flooding from your cheeks all the way down over your chest.  It’s an inferno beneath your skin, lava coursing through your veins.  

It spreads further and further, blooms somewhere new when his hand drifts lower, tracking across the soft inner of your thigh.  Doesn’t cease even when his hand does, palm firm over your leg, the ghost of a touch passing so close to your core you can’t help but jolt.  It’s as if he’s rearranged your pieces, mixed them all up.  A brush of his finger over your clothed entrance feels like it hits you right in the chest, snaps your heart to attention.  It roars to life, thundering madly, pulse erratic when he repeats the gesture, with that much more pressure.

You’re dripping, you realise to your horror, cotton of your thong sticking to your skin, grey of your shorts made darker by the arousal that spills over the one not-so-innocent digit. 

A part of you wants to run from the room.  Nearly do, heart hammering in your chest when Jungkook's face is suddenly too close, the warmth of his breath stifling against your neck.  It feels good, anticipation and desire fizzing in your stomach like fountain pop.  (The movie theatre kind, that’s somehow flat and too bubbly all at once.)

"Kook."  You mean to say it reproachfully, with a hand pushing his wrist away.  Instead it comes out like a whisper, a soft sigh of his name that sounds almost needy, laced with worry and anticipation that makes you want to tear your own hair out.  Fingers remain locked around bone, other hand digging into the blanket and the linen beneath it, searching desperately for some form of composure beneath the material.  

For the first time, you hazard a glance - know it’ll be bad for your own well-being - dropping your stare to where his hand rests.  (You have to admit - you like the sight of those tattoos, a stark contrast to the unblemished softness.)

Like it almost as much as his kisses, the first of which lands exactly where you want it most.  Delicate, polite, right on the junction of your jaw.  A sigh escapes before you can help it.  "Shy girl,”  he coos, teasing in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. 

“I’m not shy,”  you huff - try to, anyway, around the kaleidoscope of butterflies that are threatening to choke you.  "We're watching a movie."  You’re trying to redirect his attention, even as you’re desperate for it, even as you think you’d give your whole heart for it. 

You’re this close to combusting, eyes widening the moment he extracts his hand and tucks it back into the bowl of chips.  A part of you wants to yell at him - for starting this in the first place but mainly for leaving you high and dry, turned on and soaking through your underwear. 

(It’s not fair, but then again, you’d never expected them to be.  You’ve seen the rules Jungkook plays by - namely those of his own creation.  Term paper due the next morning?  He’d somehow pull it out of his ass that night.  Break something at a house party?  He’d be let off with a smile and a wave, those doe eyes of his utterly lethal when paired with his pout.)

“Watch the movie then.”  He sounds almost bored, utterly unbothered as he seamlessly slips back into the proper role of friend, classmate, study partner.

"Let's."  Without tossing another glance in his direction, you stare straight ahead, own hand delving for snacks.  So what if you very purposely brush your fingers against the pieces he's just touched, popping the pieces into your mouth before slotting your thumb against your tongue, cheeks hollowing around to suck the last bits of salt and butter off.

Despite your nerves - you’re hoping he's watching - you readjust, bringing knees up, crossing legs until one is resting atop his own thick thigh.  The full of your bottom lip disappears between your teeth, worried to within an inch of its life as you shift beside him, seemingly manoeuvring your shorts into their rightful position.

(You’re not.  They’re hitched higher than they were, barely worthy of the title of shorts, more akin to a belt.  So revealing it’s almost uncomfortable, wet of your arousal sticking them to your skin.)

(Two could play this game.)

(Maybe him better than you, but still.)

You know what you’re doing and yet you’re somehow surprised when he’s suddenly disappeared from your side and situated himself in front of you, eating up too much of the space on your small double bed.  “What’re you—“  The question disappears in the same moment he does, unable to track his movements when Jungkook slips forward, pressing his mouth over yours.

You’ve kissed a lot of people.  (Okay, not a lot, but enough.)  You were a senior in college, where kissing was like talking and fucking happened more often than dating.

You’ve never kissed Jungkook before.  

Why hadn’t you?

His lips are terribly soft, pink and pouted, slanting across yours as if he’s trying to devour you.  There’s no semblance of delicacy, nothing gentle and sweet like those brushes against your neck.  They’re forceful, demanding payment in full when his tongue glides over the seam, seeking entrance despite the fact that you think he might’ve slipped in anyway.

There’s not a single wall he couldn’t break down, not a lock he couldn’t pick.  Not with how he moves, purposeful and reassured, tongue sliding over yours, sucking it into his mouth as if it’s something he does every day.  (Which it very well could be - just not with you.)

“Shy girl,”  he repeats with a mouth filled with affection, praise that pours over you honey sweet and sticky.  “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

The thing is, you’re not pretending.  You’re half-afraid this entire moment is going to explode into a thousand pieces, a dream shattered by reality.  You hope it doesn’t.  Couldn’t bear it when he feels so nice, hand spanning your waist, tucked beneath the safety of your shirt and the fleece blanket between you.  

“I’m not.”  

“Oh?”  There’s something in his eyes, something that coils heat in the pit of your stomach.  You swear you can see the devil sitting on his shoulder, gleeful little smile rearranging his features.  “Do I make you nervous, ____?”

Did he?  Of course he did.  Had, even before you’d known him.

(You’d grown comfortable, though.  Found a way to separate the popular heartthrob from your friend.)

But you’ve lost your marbles, gone certifiably insane when you make a noise that sounds nothing like you.  Because you’re once again far too interested in the way Jungkook’s touching you, manhandling you as if you’re some sort of puppet.  It really shouldn’t turn you on so much, slick coating your bare thighs when he guides you onto your back, pushes you back against your too many pillows.

He’s your friend and he’s told you all about the way he fucks girls until they can’t walk.  

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want the same treatment, though. 

The moment Jungkook’s mouth finds your skin - sensitive and soft and so close to your soaked core - you keen, hands immediately flying into his silky head of hair.  It threads between your fingers like fine silk, filaments of gold overlaid in colour by the movie that still plays.  

“Oh my god,”  you gasp, entire body arching off the back of the bed in an effort to bring some form of  relief.  You can’t help the heat that burns your cheeks or how you sound, begging and pleading as you tug gently at his blond roots.  “Don’t tease me.”

You’re not asking very nicely but you figure Jungkook will give in.  It’s his fault, after all.  

His fault - which you don’t mind when he hooks fabric aside and drags his tongue across your slit, the flat of his tongue arching your back from the bed.  Can’t mind when he does it again, rounded nose bumping against your clit.  You’re trying to stay just a little bit decent, moans soft and caught between your teeth.  You’re practically biting a hole through your lip in an effort to stay quiet, hands curled into fists.  Gold spills between them and you imagine it hurts but he doesn’t stop, only works harder to drive you crazy.

Of course he’s good at this.  Too good, if you’re being honest.

You’re dripping, legs trembling in his firm, unyielding grip.  There's molten heat building in your stomach, creeping up your spine, and with each pass of his tongue over your sensitive core, it only expands.  You want more - need it - and almost beg when he catches your clit between his teeth.  A breathy baby spills out on accident when your eyes meet, gaze half-lidded.

It’s bad for your health, how good he looks right now, chin slick, lips rubied and pretty like jewels.  “Shy girl sounds so pretty.”

There's something about his praise that completely ruins you, the words dragging a delighted, sexpot moan off your tongue.  You want him to tell you how pretty you are now and later, over and over.  

You want to be his pretty girl. 

"I want you.  I need more,"  you whine, hips rutting desperately, slick messy across your thighs and shining across Jungkook's mouth.  He smiles then - brighter than the sun, utterly radiant, so devastatingly handsome you swear your brain short circuits - and then he’s doing exactly as you’ve asked. 

He eats you out like it’s an art form, flicking his tongue over your clit with practiced precision, sucking the pearl between his lips.  When he grazes his teeth over it - just the lightest pressure - you jolt, the feeling of a finger sliding into you stealing the breath from your lungs.

He’s always had nice hands, big broad palms and long fingers.  They reach places you could never hope to, stretching you deliciously when he sinks another in alongside the first, exploring you with ease.  The sting is slight, the fullness overriding any pain, further dulled by the suction of his mouth on your clit.  

He even hums when he finds the spot he’s been looking for, hooking his fingers against it and pressing.  (You swear you see stars;  you know you feel him smile, lips spread like butter over your skin when you sob.)

You can’t help yourself, writhing and moaning, trying to ride his face with a desperation that has your chest heaving.  It feels so good to have him between your legs.  You almost miss the appearance of his other hand - in view for but a moment before it disappears past the waistband of his sweats.  Dark as they are, pitch black like most of his clothing, it’s impossible to miss the way he touches himself.  It has you even needier, pussy clenching at the thought of him fisting his own hard cock.

“Do you want a hand?”  You ask as if you’re doing him a favour and not salivating at the prospect, eyes wide, blinking down at him from behind thick lashes.  

“Fuck.”  He’s sin incarnate, undeniable when he sheds his sweats, kicks them off with just one hand, other still slotted snug against your pussy.  He never ceases his movements, fucking you on his fingers even as he sits upright, leaned back on his calves.  “You want a taste?  Shy girl wants a big fat cock in her mouth?”  

There's something about hearing him so turned on, the expletive shooting a dizzying bolt of desire straight between yours legs.  You’ve seen Jungkook worked up - he was awfully competitive, after all, dominating most intramural sports, breaking PR records in the gym - but it's something else completely when he's making you drip cum all over his hand.

"Wow.”

Jungkook's cock is pretty, flushed and glossy from the pre-cum he spreads with his thumb, massaging over the tip like it owes him something.  

You want to taste it.

A contented hum rolls off your tongue at his question, though you don’t give him the satisfaction of an answer.  His ego's big enough without it and you’re much more interested in stroking something else.  Still, you lean into his palm, nuzzling your cheek against the warmth of it when he threads his hand through your hair, gathering it in his fist.

Then without looking away, your mouth falls open, tongue peeking past your lips to lick a fat stripe up the length of his cock, from base to tip.  It's hot and heavy on your tongue, the salty taste of his pre-cum better than candy.  You hum again, swirling your tongue around the head, and keep your gaze locked with Jungkook's, almost smirking when you drag your tongue over his fingers, gently grazing the edge of your teeth against the pad of his thumb. 

“Please.”  You’re usually far more reserved, not the kind to ask for more until you’re three months into dating and certain of where you stand.  You simply can’t help yourself now, the feeling of your own wetness painting your skin, making you clench around nothing.  "I need it."

The groan that comes sounds more like Christmas, a gift given by Santa Claus himself.  It filters into your ears and has you grinning up at him, not even bothering to hide the pride that flutters your lashes and has you pursing your lips around the head of his cock.  

When he speaks again, it’s dangerously quiet, low in his throat, laced with whatever same emotion that seems to shackle your limbs.  “Open up, ____,”  he instructs, though he offers little time to adjust, guiding his cock forward, stuffing your mouth full.  “Show me how bad.”

You don’t mind.  If you were to speak, it’d practically be a prayer, tongue tracing the veins that run the length.  A chorus of yes please more when he takes just as much as he gives.  You love the power that comes with Jungkook speaking so filthily, drunk on it when he continues, spewing filth in time with each rock of his hips.

Lips seal around the swollen head each time he withdraws, cheeks hollowing around the tip.  Tongue passes over his fingers again before your hand rises, fingers curling around his wrist to pull his own away.  (You probably shouldn't - it's too romantic - but thread your fingers through his in the same instant you sink down upon his cock, taking him halfway before pulling off with a pop!)

"Do you think you'll last long enough to fuck me?"  You’re pushing his buttons on purpose, just like he had yours during the movie. 

Something close to a snarl comes, a growl that reverberates out of that big cavernous chest of his, and he grips your hair tighter, tries to hold you still as he grins down at you.  The expression is so at odds with the warmth in his eyes, the boyish tilt of his head.

You repeat the motion again and again, taking him a little bit deeper until the head brushes the back of your throat, reflexively swallowing around the intrusion.  He's still so long and thick you haven’t even taken him all, drooling around his length, breathing through your nose and pushing past the desire to gag.  Then you relax your jaw just a little more, humming when your nose brushes the neatly groomed patch of hair at his base.

Your free hand slinks across his thigh, nails digging into the meat, delighted by the flex of muscle and sinew beneath your hand.  He's so hard, both on your tongue and beneath your touch.  It prompts you to shift forward just a bit more - you can feel the slick on your thighs, dripping down onto the sheets with each movement - and trace across his thigh to gently palm his balls.

If you could speak, you’d probably ask for more.  For Jungkook to use and abuse your throat as much as he wants.  As it stands, you can only moan around him, spit and his pre-cum smeared over your lips.

“Look at you.”  He’s talking to himself, lost in his own world as he fucks into your mouth, soothes the pad of his thumb over your cheek.  You adore the way he sounds now, dazed and a little messed up.  “Look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, ____.”

You can’t do much more than look up at him, batting your lashes when he compliments you, dragging your tongue everywhere you can reach as the head of his cock batters the back of your throat.  It's not an easy feat, drool all the way down your chin, trailing down your neck and staining the silk of your camisole.

At some point, you’ll need to pull off - get a proper breath of air - but not now.  Instead, you swallow around him, savouring the feeling of him filling your mouth, and squeeze gently at his balls.  When you wink up at him, it's half-hearted and with moisture in your eyes, lining lashes in the form of little gemstones.

You do it again and again, moaning lewdly around his cock before it gets too much, pulling off of him with a gasping breath and tears down your cheeks.  “Is it my turn yet?”  You’re only half-joking, made needier by the soreness in your throat, the same you want to feel so desperately between your legs.  Pressing a sweet, chaste peck to his head, tongue dipping into his slit to gather the pre-cum that leaks out, you offer the sweetest smile you can, saccharine sweet and soft.  

“Your turn?”  The way Jungkook snorts is derisive, playful.  It pulls straight off his tongue - which finds yours, swapping spit as he guides you back to the bed.  Teeth collide, lips grown swollen by the intensity of your kiss, and you startle when he nips hard at the bottom petal.  “I thought you were shy.”

“I am,”  you retort, returning the gesture, biting into the curve of his jaw with surprising repose.  Colour blooms beneath the edge of enamel, a smattering of colour that makes you smile, eager to leave more.

Which you would do, if Jungkook weren’t stripping before you, peeling his shirt from his front, tugging it over his head in that weirdly hot way that somehow all boys did.  It reveals skin in a single fluid pull, clothing discarded to the side before he levels you with a smile of his own, one that stirs to life the dimple in his cheek, eyes squinting with the intensity of his delight.  He looks deceptively sweet this way, nothing like the demon who’d just stuffed his cock down your throat.

You’re not sure which version of him you like best.

Seeing him now, dressed in nothing but that absurd, devilishly handsome grin of his, you’re not prepared.  You’re unsure where to look, gaze bouncing between the tattoos that crawl up his arms and span over his left pec, down the neatly defined ridges of his abs, and all the way back to his swollen, shiny cock.

“You’re drooling.”  Of course it’s something he’d say - because he always knows what to say, plucking perfect words from thin air.  The casual banter calms the rattle in your chest and refocuses it on his face that’s too close, looming over yours as his hands make quick work of your clothes, shedding the fabric from your form with deft, measured movements.

You’re ready to say something teasing - anything to distract from the fact that you’re still ogling him - when he catches you in another kiss, softer this time, infinitely sweeter.  Suddenly, you’re shy - which really makes no sense, given what’s transpired.

"Don't make fun of me,"  you mumble, as bashful as you were during the movie, embarrassment burning across your cheeks.  Arms rise to cover what little of your chest you can, folding around his broad palms that encompass them whole, tweaking at the straining buds.

“I’m not,”  Jungkook reassures against your lips, face dropping into the crook of your neck.  He nuzzles against you, sucking affection into the column of your throat, shamelessly laying a wreath of lust into the delicate skin.  You wonder whether he can hear the stutter of your pulse, the reaction his next words elicit.  “You’re pretty when you do it.”

You can’t quite pull your eyes away from his face, shrouded in lemon tart, so good-looking it’s unfair; his broad back and the muscle that threads it, undulating with each movement;  or the way his thighs flex between your spread knees.  You’re dragged through heaven and hell by the brush of his lips, each glide overstimulating your senses to the point of no return.  You’re still burning up, all the foreplay leaving your legs like jelly, cunt dripping with need.  "I bet you say that to all the girls."

Probably not the best thing to say with the position you’re in but the reality of the situation is hitting you and you’re feeling a little vulnerable.  Want an answer that’ll soften the sharp edges of his teeth, the intoxicating glint in his stare.

“No, just you.”  Whether it’s true or not, you can’t say for certain.  You hope it is - wish upon a star for it, laying all your hopes and dreams into the constellations in his eyes.  They’re lovely, winking down at you from the darkest depths, guiding you home.  

You don’t mean to scoff - really, you don’t.  It comes of its own accord, spilling forth like a glass too full.

“You don’t believe me?”  He sounds almost offended, the picture of innocence when he reaches down, hand scrambling about for pooled black fabric.  Comes back up with a packet between his index and middle finger, held aloft like a prize.  

How can you when he’s ready to devour you whole, primed to feast as he rolls the condom over his length, stroking himself once, twice, gaze never wavering from where it rests between your legs.

“Always prepared.”  It’s scathing but somehow tender, too mesmerised by the way he fucks into his loose fist.  You’d say more - maybe make a flippant comment about his reputation - but can’t find the words when he’s teasing you, swollen head tapping teasingly over your core.  It feels like too much, leaves you breathless when he hikes your legs up and nearly folds you in half. 

When he presses into you, the sound you make is sinful, a moan you can’t help.  Jungkook’s so fucking big you’re sure you’re about to split in half, pussy clenching tight around the sudden intrusion.  “Oh my god,”  you whine, hands coiling into his hair, trying desperately to relax, the sting of the stretch battling the pressure that builds as he sinks further in.  “You’re so big.  I c-can’t—”  You’re starting to babble nonsense and he hasn’t even begun moving yet, lips hot over the sweat-slick column of his throat when he bows, burning his presence into the grace of your neck.  A hickey of your own creation blooms right where your mouth is, right over his shoulder.  The salt of his skin distracts you, makes it easier to accommodate the fullness.  “You feel so good, Kook.”  You rock experimentally beneath him, clenching tight as if to draw him deeper.  “Please, move,”  you beg, aiming to form another bruise beneath his skin.

The first thrust chases all the breath from your lungs, a gasp ricocheting off your tongue and into the minimal space between you.  He's absurdly big, stretching you out so well that every stroke feels like heaven.  When he pushes back in, snaps his hips in that easy, effortless motion of his, you’re making the most obscene noises, words lost to his hair as he lavishes your tits with attention.

B-big! is all you manage to squeak out.  It sounds like that, anyway.  With how he's filling you, it's hard to speak coherently;  you can practically feel him in your throat.  (Or maybe that's just from choking on him earlier.  You’re not really sure.)

Hands find their way around his neck, over his shoulders, periwinkle-painted nails leaving light etchings in their wake.  They bloom colour over his back - not too hard, careful still, motor skills barely functioning - before you tangle your fingers in his hair, holding him recklessly close as the pressure builds and builds, flooding your abdomen in heat. 

There’s slick all across your thighs.  You can hear the wet sounds each time Jungkook slips almost all the way out and then rocks back in.  It's terribly messy and so hot but you’re greedy, drunk off the feeling of having this Adonis break you in half.  "Harder, p-please."  Eyes wide, you tug gently at the soft strands at the nape of his neck, meeting his with a flutter of your lashes.  "Please?"

He acquiesces without hesitation, fucks you harder, deeper, like an animal in a rut.  Grinds against you with each thrust, pushing you to your limits.  Even has the audacity to push further, until the strain in your hips conflicts with the pleasure skipping up your spine, melting you into a boneless mass.

You’ve never felt like this, stretched out and used.  You’re used to gentle lovers, sweet - if not boring - lovemaking.  The way Jungkook's pounding into you is unheard of and you’re loving it, his name whimpered on a feedback loop.  A steady Kook, Kook, Kook that twinkles in your ears, inarticulate and pleading as you rock shamelessly against him.

“You like that, ____?”  It’s a question for his own ego, something he knows but asks anyway.  (It’d be impossible not to know the answer when your cunt’s sucking him in, coating his cock in a pretty sheen.)

You’re nodding dumbly, breathless, eager to meet him each time he snaps forward.  (It’s not easy like this, practically prone beneath him, twisted into a pretzel.)  "Like it so m-much.  Feels so good.”  You can’t stop smoothing open mouthed kisses over his fluffy hair, basking in the sunshine that radiates off him. 

There's an ache starting between your legs, pussy swollen around his thick length.  You’re grateful for your natural flexibility, the hot yoga sessions you’d entertained on-and-off for years.  You’re sure you’d feel it in your legs too, knees pushed all the way up by your ears, if not for that.  

But still, you’re defenceless, made to experience each and every thing he has to offer:  every vein and ridge, the head of his cock reaching so deep it's almost too much.  With each stroke, Jungkook’s brushing against the sensitive spot that has pleasure skyrocketing, blossoming like a rose garden in spring.  "R-right there,"  you manage, rolling your hips purposefully, nearly crying each time he brushes against your g-spot.

“Right there?”  He parrots it back, infuriating and adorable, the teasing tenor dripping over you like raindrops.  They settle beneath your skin, sinking into your bones as he rears back just enough, enough to steal a kiss that’s far more tongue than it needs to be.  

It’s almost as if he’s trying to drown you, sink you beneath high tide.  

Spit descends down your chin, trails over your neck and it’s a little gross but you don’t care.  The attention he’s giving is shameless, passed over your cheeks, your throat, your breasts.  He gives and gives, both with his lips and the praise that comes unfettered.  “Perfect,”  he hums, sucking your nipple into his mouth, worrying the bud until it’s straining and puffy, too sensitive when he kisses you again and your own thigh brushes against it.  You whimper at the feeling, pulling softly at his hair, unsure whether you want less or need more.  “So sensitive.  Such a shy girl.  Such a pretty girl.”

Every word of praise has you beaming, nearly purring with delight despite the pain that comes when he puts you through the same once more, laving over the other bud with abandon.  He's sweat-slick, beads of it running down his neck, over the mosaic of bruises you’ve left behind.  It's almost embarrassing how dark his throat is coloured, a dozen reminders left all over his skin.

(You wonder how long they’ll last, how many days will pass as the colour shifts, changing like autumn leaves.  Whether they’ll still be there at your next lecture, if he’ll wear them with pride or cover up beneath one of his big baggy sweaters.)

(You hope it’s the latter.)

(Maybe he’ll let you give him more.)

(Maybe he—)

There’s a change of pace and you’re crying out, hiccupping with each thrust, the head of his cock finding your g-spot with unbearable, unrelenting precision.  Clawing at his arms, long nails digging into the firm muscle of his biceps, something between a sob and a plea rolls off your tongue, over and over.  "So big.  It's too m-much.”  And yet you don’t want him to stop, punch drunk from the way he reaches deep and pulls you tighter against him, hips risen off the bed. 

You’re begging again, eyes rolled so far back in your head you can hardly focus, the coil in your stomach pulled so tight you know it's about to snap.  When Jungkook laughs - a sweet giggle that proves his duality - you clench almost painfully, tears finally spilling over. 

One last brush against your most sensitive spot, one last thrust of that monster cock, and you’re peaking, coming so intensely you feel as if you’re soaring. Everything's suddenly so much more wet, release soaking into the linens beneath you, coating your thighs and his legs and dripping between you.

You’ve never come like this before, without some sort of direct stimulation on your clit.  It’s pleasurable in a different way, severing all your sensibilities, explosive in its magnitude.  It tingles beneath your skin, flooding all your senses. 

"Kook—please—come for me.”  You’re rocking up, forward - trying to, at least, folded as you are - singing his name, pleading for him to fuck his cum into you (momentarily ignorant to the fact that you’ve been responsible, a thin wall of latex separating you from your fucked out fantasy).  

Despite the sensitivity, you’re clenching around him, eager to bring him to his own high.  You want to feel him come apart above you, eroded into a mess like you are.

He’s just as pretty reaching his peak as he is at any other time, handsome face screwed up as if he’s reached nirvana, bliss slacking his features the longer he rides it out, bucking into you as he fills the condom and still doesn’t stop.  It’s almost unbearable, oversensitivity spilling into pleasure until he leisurely grinds to a halt, stops the inconsistent pressure against your bundle of nerves, the assault on your fluttering walls.

When he collapses against you, whole face squished between the valley of your breasts, you can’t help but laugh, the sound breathless and endeared.  “Are you okay?”  You don’t mind where he is, weight comforting, skin sticky on yours.  He’s unbelievably warm - a blanket fresh from the wash and yet so much better, lulling you into a sense of security.

“Better than okay,”  he murmurs against your chest, smothering open-mouthed kisses over skin, snickering when you jolt at the feel of his teeth over your nipple one last time.  “You’re welcome.”  It’s an indulgent, facetious expression of gratitude, one that you haven’t asked for.  You laugh all the same, ducking your head into the crown of spun gold atop his head.  

“You too.”

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @codeinebelle​

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

(/rp! also, huge trigger warning for assault, graphic violence, death, abuse, possessive behaviour, obsession, mental breaks, hallucination, really fucking creepy treatment of a corpse, unreliable narrators, the perspective of a villain, torture, manipulation, and gaslighting! this gets pretty fucked up).

When Dream sees Tommy for the first time, there is no dramatic shift, no acknowledgement that his life had changed forever. No knowledge of the fact. All he sees is a skinny little kid who's obnoxious and loud, and he catalogues him just as one of Philza’s strays and leaves it at that.

No, it’s when Tommy drives the sword into his chest for the first time, and Dream wakes up from his non-canon death smiling despite itself when it clicks. He’s not sure what “it” is, exactly, but it’s just something about him Dream hadn’t seen in anyone before that has him hooked, captivated from the beginning.

(There's the vague recollection that he was like Tommy once, a bright eyed naive youth too loud for his own good, but that’s not unique. It’s not that, at least not entirely.)

The conflict was not started by Tommy, nor was he of any particular threat to Dream, but he was fun. So he ignored the rest, and took the boy's music discs. He knew Tommy well enough that he’d fight for them, and fight he did, and even though Dream lost in the end he laughed all the while. He’d played many a game before, but none quite this fun!

They both know this isn’t where it’ll end. Only one hopes it will be.

——

Dream didn’t care much about Wilbur's little revolutionary movement at first. As long as he obeyed the rules, and stayed in the server, it wouldn’t matter whether he delusionally thought he was under his own governance or not.

This changed immediately when he learnt Tommy was involved.

L'Manburg, a name he didn’t bother to remember until he learnt Tommy named it, was tiny, barely any more than a scavenged old world vehicle and some trees. It’s populace was peaceful, only Wilbur even an adult. None of that mattered. It wasn’t that the nation was a threat, though he certainly wouldn’t dissuade his friends fear that it was. But fighting L'Manburg meant fighting Tommy, and Dream wouldn't pass up the opportunity for anything.

He grinned with glee behind his mask as he blew Tommy's strange dirt hovel “embassy” sky high, enthusiastically threatened Tommy before remembering half heartedly to threaten the rest of the nation. He made dealings, found weak links- a new immigrant to the SMP that joined L'Manburg after the war began, it turns out. He offered extravagant promises in exchange for their betrayal, hiding the strings attached to his fingers.

Oh, but it was all worth it when the person with the eyes of an old god lead the revolutionaries into a trap, all worth it when they descended on them at once. It was definitely worth it to kill Tommy, kill Tommy, see him scream and cry in pain and stumble trying to escape and him taking a shuddering last breath. Dream had never seen anything as beautiful.

(It was a war, and feelings like this were okay in wars, right? It’s not like he was obsessed, it’s not like he was a monster. He’d been trying to be good, and killing your enemies was good, right?)

He killed Tommy a second time, too. The boy with shaking hands and a leg hanging limp challenged him to a duel for his nations future. His loss was assured, and Dream knew Tommy knew that also. This one was quicker, Tommy dead between the arrow entering his skull and his broken body make a loud thud against the planks, but it was no less fascinating. If only he had infinite canon lives, Dream would happily give up any ambitions and spend eternity seeing the boy die in so many fascinating ways.

(No, what the fuck was he thinking? The SMP was worth more than some stupid kid, and Dream wasn’t so inept with morality to know torturing someone over and over, killing them, was wrong.)

(Yet, it was so tempting he was almost ready to renounce morality wholeheartedly.)

It eventually comes to the discs again, Tommy handing Dream his prized possessions for some silly little nation. Dream knew Tommy would do anything to get them back. Having so much control was addicting, even more than control of anything else. Dream had learnt long ago that if you didn’t have complete power over anything, people would take the power from you and make you hurt.

So why did he care more about control of some kid than avoiding his own pain?

——

Dream would have sided with Tommy. Really, he would have, but Schlatt just had the better deal.

He holds the book in his hands, power filling him. He repeats the incantation, sacrifices the blood from his veins. He stares into the face of a man near-identical.

“”Brother dearest,”” he says, voice level. “”What do you wish of me?””

Dream grins behind his mask. “”Tommy.””

—

Wishes must come true, Dream thinks, as he sits on the beach of Logstedshire, Tommy passed out and leaning against his arm.

Oh, what he’d give for this moment to last forever. Alas, it passes, like they all do. Still, Tommy's getting so obedient lately- barely even grumbling as he threw his item into the hole. Part of him missed when Tommy would fight back all the while- his pained screams were entertaining. Still, it was safer this way, and more enjoyable in the long run. He’d hate to have his little songbird break it’s neck against the cage doors, never to sing again.

He’s not sure when life outside of Tommy became a chore, but he remembers dimly that it wasn’t always like that. There was a Dream long ago that wouldn’t give up friends and family, who'd cry over losing them even if he’d cut their threads voluntarily. He wasn’t that Dream anymore, the numb feeling in his chest a sign of growth. It didn’t matter that everything outside of Tommy was so miserable, because just being around the boy was a feeling a hundredfold better than any happiness he felt before.

Still, he had duties and responsibilities. Ones that seemed so important long ago, so fulfilling. Maybe one day they’d feel like that again. He had plans, from what he learnt. Government had not left him satisfied, but- whatever you could call what his relationship with Tommy was, it definitely did. Family, he supposed, recognising the boys actions towards him and his brothers. If he could make the entire server like that, that’d be a happiness greater than any other, apart from how Tommy made him feel.

He spent time with Tubbo, getting further and further towards getting that stupid fucking ram boy to calling him a friend and giving him Tommy's disc, all he wanted from him.

(He wasn’t jealous, of course he wasn’t. The anger he felt whenever Tommy called Tubbo a friend, that wasn’t jealousy. That was just logical).

Far more interesting was checking on the prison's completion. When it’s completed, it’d truly be a thing of beauty. Of course, his favourite part was the main cell, that he’d put so much thought into. He’d included all the little things that made Tommy squirm, made his breath hitch and eyes dart around fearfully. That would be so much fun.

(Tommy would learn to appreciate the fun in time, too. He was a smart boy, if irritatingly yet fascinatingly stubborn. He just needed to be taught that if he listened and just played along, Dream could give him the world.)

It took far too long, but eventually it finished, and he could return to the ugly mess of tents and logs he’d made so sure Tommy could never leave. He always started shaking when Dream showed up, trying desperately to hide his fear in his voice, and it was absolutely adorable. Dream savoured it, savoured everything about Tommy as they spent hours talking. Everything, his hysterical laugh, his nervous glances for escapes, the way he flinched whenever Dream grabbed his shoulder, his wrist, the poorly hidden look of pain when he held tighter, just hard enough to irritate the bruises that painted his skin a canvas of black and blue, it was all perfect.

Only he could love Tommy this much, and in time he knew Tommy would learn to appreciate that.

——

The second time he used the book, a tower extended from the ruins of the makeshift prison he’d made for Tommy. DreamXD stated ahead of him.

“”Brother dearest,” he said, “why are you calling on me again so soon?””

“”Bring him back,”” he said, voice painfully numb.

DreamXD shrugged a shoulder, golden hair waving around like in water. “”Who?””

“”Tommy.””

“”I cannot,”” DreamXD said. “”He lives.”” Dream couldn’t help but smile at hearing that.

“”Then bring him back to me.””

DreamXD laughed, a sound like church bells. “”That would be unnecessary. Did I not already grant you the mortal?””

Dream clenched his fist hard enough blood dripped onto scorched earth. “”He left me-“”

“”And you shall find him, no matter what.”” DreamXD smiled under the mask. “”You are bonded to him, and neither death nor distance shall break that. Just look, and you will find him, til the end of time and even past.””

“”Thank you,”” Dream said, genuinely for once.

“”Only the best for my little brother and sister. And I know you would do the same for us, brother dearest.””

——

His planning had come to fruition for once.

They were alone, in the depths of the Earth, just him, Tommy, the fucking hilarious excuse for a “president” Tommy called a friend for some reason, and his axe.

Finally, he could bring his dreams to fruition. He could get rid of any loose threads, and claim what was rightfully his. And once he’d taught Tommy to be grateful, he could get to work on the rest of the server.

It’d be beautiful. Everyone would be his friend, his brother, his sister, something in between. There would be no more wars, just peace. Everyone would be safe, he’d know they’re safe and they’d never rip him to pieces and laugh at his pain. And oh, it’d like be hard work, breaking everyone into obedience but not too much to the point they become boring, but so enjoyable and satisfying. He’d almost be disappointed when it was over.

Tommy- his Tommy, his Tommy, was crying, and it was amusing but he almost wanted to reach out and comfort him and explain it’d all be for the best. He’d do that later, once he’d secured him and any loose ends were gone forever. He couldn’t afford weakness until they were alone, but Tommy made it so tempting.

The ram and Tommy hugged a final goodbye, and the adoration he had towards Tommy, hiding his fear behind a smile, made Dream fucking sick. He should know Tommy was his. They all should know. He’d teach them, when he made the server a perfect family. Even Tubbo, if Tommy begged enough. Dream would do anything to hear Tommy's pathetic, gorgeous begging, breaking through his aggressive walls, and bringing back some random sheep was easily in his brother's power.

See, he could be kind. He wasn’t cruel, he wasn’t a monster. He didn’t even care if he was anymore, fun was so much more important than nonsensical human concepts, but it wasn’t even true. He could be incredibly, selflessly kind, as long as he had a reason. They’d learn, once he fulfilled his dream.

The sound of a nether portal, of betrayal, shatters his dreams and at this point he wonders why he’s surprised.

——

He’d had doubts, during the weeks (months, years? he had no way of knowing) he’d been trapped in the cell, but Tommy being here with him confirmed his design was excellent.

Oh, Tommy was being fucking obnoxious- and Dream knew he was doing it on purpose- but he saw it in the way he never was able to look at the lava properly, the way he always woke up in a cold sweat calling for his daddy like the child he insisted he wasn’t. It was perfect.

(Of course it was, though. It’s not hard to build on something already perfected, and Tommy was the perfect little toy.)

Tommy was so frustratingly different though. He tried not to take it out on him- it wasn’t his fault that everyone else spread lies, planted nonsense in his head about Dream being bad and not trying to do the best for everyone but especially for him- but he struggled sometimes, and it was always so tempting to hurt Tommy anyway, and get lost in the melody of his screams. It wouldn’t teach Tommy anything though, and that’s what was important. He needed to teach Tommy what was best for him.

Tommy had unlearnt all the lessons Dream painstakingly taught him. That wouldn’t be an issue- it was so, so fun to teach- but he knew, painfully deep down in his heart that he could not hold Tommy forever, not yet. The lockdown wasn’t forever, and Dream had no escape route yet. Tommy would just forget everything again, at the hands of his “friends” that couldn’t love him as much as Dream did. They needed to learn far more than Tommy did.

(Except Ranboo of course- oh, the purple eyed boy had the silly naive thoughts in his head everyone seemed to have that friendship was anything but possessing another, but he agreed family came first, listened to Dream, helped him, even with clenched teeth.)

And when one day the frustration got to Dream one day and he was so furious he hit Tommy again and again against the walls of the prison and strangled him until he was cold all he could do was laugh and laugh and laugh.

It was so, so funny, because of course he’d be the one to destroy everything he loved.

——

This time, when DreamXD is called, he looks upon his brother with concern.

“”Brother dearest,”” he says, “”are you quite alright?””

Dream laughs, because of course he’s alright! The tears staining his face must be joy, because of course he’s alright. He’s holding Tommy here, with him, and he was quiet, he must be listening. He can’t be dead, he can’t be, then there’d be no point to any of this.

“”Drista has been concerned for you for quite a while, you know,”” DreamXD continued. “”Is this because of your mortal?””

“”He’s been ever so quiet lately,”” Dream said, with a voice hoarse from crying and laughter. “”I’m not sure to be concerned or happy with him.””

“”You’re not well, Dream.”” DreamXD said, with a tone of finality despite clearly being wrong. “”The boy is dead.””

Dream laughs. “”And yet he does not slip from my grasp.””

“”Then, brother, why did you call me?””

The silence pierces through air like a knife. Eventually, through hiccuping sobs, Dream says “”Just, please, bring him back.””

Tommy sputters to life with ghostly eye and pure white streaks and more bruise on him than corpselike skin and Dream thinks he has never been more perfect.

——

Quackity's left, he thinks, because the pain's stopped growing.

He laughs, because he doesn’t know what to fucking do anymore but laugh. He can’t give up the secrets of the book, of course he can’t. Family comes first, after all, and he dreads to think what the bastard would do to his brother. But the pain was awful, never ending in waves through his whole body, and he almost just wants to confess so he can die.

He cradles what’s left of his arm since the bastard cut it off at the elbow, and he sobs. He doesn’t even care to hide it with his mask. It’s not even the pain that hurts the most, even. It’s that Tommy's gone, and by the time Dream escapes- because he’s going to escape, he’s got to- he might be so far from his grasp even their fates being tied might not be enough.

“Of course that’s not true,” a fake voice says in his head, and wavy form approaches. Fuck, the blood loss must be bad today. It always is when he sees things. Usually it’s George or Bad or Sapnap, and it leaves him with a numb feeling in his chest that he’s familiar with, but today it’s Tommy, and that’s worse. It reminds him of what he cannot hold.

“Fuck off,” he mouths at the apparition, voice too tired and hoarse from screaming to speak properly. Not-Tommy laughs, and the sound is so similar to Tommy he almost thinks that his desperate prayers have been answered, Tommy is there again, but he reached his fingers forward and they go through his tired hallucination.

“You’re a real dick, you know that?” Not-Tommy says, and laughs again. “But I know you mean the best.” Dream shrugs his shoulder at the fake, and then curls up, new waves of pain curling up his arm.

“I don’t know why I was ever friends with that bastard.” Not-Tommy lies, and Dream wants to believe it. “You’re just having fun. He’s cruel.” Tommy would never understand that clear distinction, no matter how much Dream explained it, but the fake said it with such conviction it was almost enough for Dream to fall for it.

“When you get out, I’ll be there, Dream. And then we can all be a big happy family,” Not-Tommy says, the thoughts so obviously Dream's and not Tommy’s but- the idea that Tommy understood, that he saw sense, was so tempting, Dream allowed himself to believe it, just for a second. Just until the pain started anew.

Broken and bloody, Dream drifted into unconsciousness with a smile on his face.

[bungeenomin]

COMPETITION- KIM DOYOUNG

genre: e2l doyoung x reader 

word count: 5.2k

summary: your entire life, your neighbour has been nothing but competition. from as soon as you had the ability to form an opinion on people, it was engrained in you to hate kim doyoung. but can you still hate him when you reunite as adults after getting hired under by same company? is he still competition?

warning: oral (m+f receiving), dirty talk, sex

a/n: feel free to send me requests, asks and leave feedback!

main masterlist

from when you were a kid, you were taught to hate the kim family. ironically, both your parents and mr and ms kim pretended to like each other. they acted like they didn’t completely despise one another, but they knew they did, everyone did. the feud was so petty, you’ll admit. your families constantly competing with who was the richest, who had the nicest car, who had the better education, who’s children were more talented. no matter how petty you knew the feud was, it was ingrained in you to hate kim doyoung with all your being, and that’s exactly what you did.

when your parents and the kim’s pretended to get on, you and doyoung never dared speak to each other. in both of your eyes, you were just competition, feeding into your parents on going feud. as you sat glaring at each other at dinner meals, your parents would brag back and forth about how amazing their dear children are, constantly trying to one up each other and get the last word.

you didn’t hate anyone, you thought hating was harsh. but kim doyoung was different. you had deep, deep hatred for him. your only conversations were cold, offensive, hateful. he was an obstacle in the way of your success from the day you were born until the day you moved away for college. he was nothing but competition.

December 5th 2020

“good look today my love” your mother beams through the phone, full of pride. it’s your first day at your new job, an extremely well paid job, a job to make your parents proud of you. 

“thank you mom but i have to go now, being late on the first day wouldn’t leave a very good impression” you sigh, grabbing your handbag from the passenger seat and exiting your car, locking it behind you. “i’ll fill you in later mom, okay?”

“yes, yes of course!” your mother enthusiastically responds. “your father and i are so proud of you, talk to you later”

you sigh, locking your phone. you love your parents, you really do, but sometimes they can be intense. too intense. in their minds, everything has to be perfect first try. according to them, successful people leave no room for errors. they leave no one pass their level of success. they get distracted by no one, keep their eye on the prize. 

the building is exactly the same as you remember it from your interview, extremely large, but not too difficult to find your way around, signs and directions places frequently throughout the building. “hello, my name is y/n, i start working here today” you confidently tell the receptionist. 

“ah yes” she responds, “one of mr lee’s new recruits”. one of? clearly multiple people were taken on at once, not that it’ll be a problem to you. “follow me, i’ll lead you to where the rest are waiting” she smiles softly, walking you down a corridor and into a waiting room. “mr lee will be with you shortly!” 

there are four or five people in the room, you assume all starting work today, but your eyes lock on one person. kim doyoung. after what, five, six years? he looks the exact same, slightly better skin with more prominent facial features. he wears a slick black suit. classic. he can’t help the cold chuckle that leaves his lips the second his eyes land on you, eyeing you up and down in the process, judgementally. the last thing you expected was to see him here. after all the years you spent competing with him, you never thought that you would be back at it again after college.

“long time no see” he mutters. 

you roll your eyes, “yeah, pity, i finally erased your ugly face and shitty attitude from my memory and now i’ll have to start all over again” 

doyoung chuckles leaning closer to you, “ouch, i’m hurt. well now you have plenty of time to watch me beat you, like i always have done”

“you fucking wi-”

“hello everyone, nice to meet you all as employees and not applicants this time. as i’m sure you’re aware, i am the ceo of this company. i take great pride in my company and only hire the best of the best, people who i know will aid my companies success”

“shame he hired you then” doyoung whispers. 

“now, i am a busy man, but that does not mean i won’t see if people are slacking. If you are slacking, you get one warning. If you continue to not put in one hundred percent, you’re fired. it’s as simple as that. i will constantly be able to view your work, so i expect everyone’s full effort. i believe i pay you very well for your job, so expect it to be done well. anyway, with that being said, welcome to the company! i hope we can all do great work together” 

as soon as mr lee finishes his introductory speech, you are brought to your offices. it is one big room but fortunately, there are walls between each desk, allowing for privacy to work. you notice there is someone in between you and doyoung, which you are eternally grateful for, you really don’t know how you would be able to work to the best of your ability knowing he’s beside you. 

it doesn’t take you long to get stuck into your work load. quickly setting up your desk to your liking and turning on your computer. honestly, the morning goes really fast. with the work load you have, you’re constantly busy. what distracts you slightly is when you see a familiar face walk to mr lee’s desk, handing him a stack of papers he was working on, ready for mr lee to read. “thank you doyoung, i appreciate your hard work already”. with that doyoung turns to go back to his desk, not before looking your way and sending you a sarcastic smile. fucking idiot. 

by the time lunch rolls around, you’re just excited to try the food that is served in the cafeteria, everything looking and smelling delicious, leaving your mouth watering. once you get your food, you sigh in defeat as you look around for a table to sit at, only to be left disappointed when you see they’re all full. your eyes slowly pan the cafeteria, looking for anywhere you can possibly sit, until your eyes land on a free seat, beside the one and only, kim doyoung, who’s sat quietly on his phone as he eats his lunch. him working here is going to be more hard than you thought. 

“can i sit here?” you question. 

“gosh y/n, looks like you’re a little obsessed with me huh?” doyoung replies, a smug look on his face. 

“you fucking wish. i wouldn’t come near you unless it was absolutely necessary, which unfortunately, it is. there’s no other seats” 

“whatever” doyoung rolls his eyes, looking back down at his phone as you take your seat. arrogant prick. 

“so” doyoung speaks up amid the awkward silence, “how has little y/n been?”. to anyone else, they would think he was being nice, but you know he’s just nosy. prying into your business as usual. 

“i’ve been great. i graduated top of my year in university, got to travel a lot. all good things” you reply, a smug expression on your face. 

“you know y/n you should really get the stick out of your ass, it’s very unprofessional” doyoung replies, him now wearing a smug expression as yours drops. 

“oh fuck you doyoung”

“i’m sure you’d love to sweetheart” 

the rest of the day went relatively fast, without any more encounters with doyoung, thankfully. before you know it, you’re back in the comfort of your own apartment, relaxing with a glass of wine. you’ve already informed your parents about your first day, causing them to almost burst with pride. what throws them off slightly is the mention of doyoung. ‘don’t mind him’ you mother advised. ‘don’t let him get in your way’ your father informed. not that you intended to take notice of him, certainly not intending on letting him get in your way. 

December 14th 2020

working with doyoung is proving to be a lot harder than it seems. he’s very, in your face. always chiming in with his opinion and what he thinks is right. his presence alone gets on your nerves, let alone when he opens his mouth. to everyone else, he seems like a great, hardworking guy, but to you, he’s just in your way. a headache. an inconvenience. 

“doyoung these files are for you” you sigh standing at doyoung’s desk with your hand extended. 

doyoung looks up from his desk, taking the files from your hand and flicking through them. “no they aren’t” he nonchalantly responds, handing them back to you. 

“doyoung why the fuck would i lie about something so stupid?” you scoff, rolling your eyes at his stupidity. “these are for you”

doyoung sits back in his chair, folding his arms. “how do i know you’re not just loading your work onto me, hmm?”

“fucking hell doyoung why are you the most difficult person in the world? jesus. they’re yours. take them, if you don’t do them, it’s you falling behind, not me” you groan, once again extending your arm out with the files that doyoung insists don’t belong to him. as doyoung takes the files from you, your hands brush off each other swiftly, but it’s enough to make your cheeks turn pink to your dismay. 

doyoung chuckles slightly at your reaction to such a small touch. “are you okay?” doyoung questions, playing innocent. 

“of course i am” you respond sharply. 

“whatever you say darling” doyoung chuckles turning his attention back to his computer, leaving you standing there with your mouth hanging at his words. “it’s rude to stare y/n, am i that attractive to you?” doyoung asks, completely focused on his computer screen. 

“fuck off” you mumble before storming back to your office. that’s the thing about doyoung. he’s cocky. too cocky. always thinking he’s better than everyone, above everyone. thinks he’s beautiful. he makes you sick. 

doyoung doesn’t mean to stare. he honestly doesn’t. he catches himself doing it quite often though. the coffee machine is placed in perfect eye line of your desk. it just so happens that doyoung spends a lot of time at the coffee machine. he convinces himself that he looks in anger. you stress him out after all. you’re his enemy. his competition. he never gets caught staring at you, well, until now. “it’s rude to stare kim!” you shout at him from your seat when your eyes meet his, only earning an eye roll from doyoung. you giggle lightly at his reaction. you’ve always loved getting under his skin. 

December 19th 2020

you honestly thought your day was going great. there was very little traffic, no line at the coffee machine, you were way ahead on your work. That was until your boss entered your office, asking specifically that you and doyoung stay back a few hours to get through some work with him. of course, this is your worst nightmare, but who are you to turn down your boss?

“just wait inside my office” mr lee announces to the two of you, “i’ll be back in a few minutes i just have a quick phone call to take”.

the silence between both you and doyoung is severe as you sit in the two seats across from mr lee’s. you try think of something to say, literally anything, to break the awkward silence, but you can’t think of anything. reflecting now, you and doyoung have ever had a casual civil conversation.

“doyoung can we just- can we just cut the shit for this?” doyoung raises an eyebrow in curiosity. “we’re doing this with our boss, and the snappy comments and awkwardness is just gonna look bad, so can we just pretend we don’t hate each other for this”

“fine” doyoung snaps, crossing his arms over his chest and facing straight ahead, you doing the same. once again, the silence is deafening. it’s been a significant length of time since your boss left now, probably getting caught up on the call. “remember that year our families went to the lake together?”

you look across at doyoung, thrown back by his sudden conversation starter. “of course i do, it was a fucking disaster” you chuckle lightly, thinking back on the events.

“the literal worst” doyoung responds. “it felt more like family bootcamp than a break”. it really did. both of your dads spent the whole trip trying to one up each other, making sure their family was presenting themselves as best as they could the entire time. It was intense. 

“no, the worst was when our dads kept trying to one up each other on the jet ski’s” you giggle, “they literally just embarrassed each other”. at the time, you hated the trip. you felt tense the whole time, on edge. looking back now, you can’t help but to laugh at the mayhem. 

“they really did” doyoung cringes, remembering how hard his dad tried to show off his ‘jet ski skills’ when in reality, he was a complete amateur, just like your dad. 

“we beat you in the family tennis tournament though” you tease, remembering how happy you were with the victory. 

“oh whatever, as if i was gonna go hard on a girl. i’m way better than you” doyoung scoffs. 

“oh my god, remember when our dads decided to make a barbecue together!” you laugh loudly, your eyes welling with tears. 

“stop that was so bad” doyoung chuckles, “we just ended up with way too much food and they burned half of it”

once you both calm down from your fit of laughter. there’s a weird atmosphere. everything feels lighter. you and doyoung sit there for a minute, just staring at each other with silly smiles on your face. “i still fucking hate you”

“thank fuck for that” doyoung replies, rolling his eyes once again, playfully this time.

“i’m so sorry!” mr lee announces as he barges into the office. “i’ve kept you here for over an hour without doing anything. look, just go home for tonight i’m so sorry” the older man sighs.

you and doyoung ensure him it’s okay, before getting up and leaving, going your separate ways into the old december night. 

December 24th 2020

the usual christmas eve agenda didn’t even cross your mind when you started your new job. of course, your christmas eve will be spent in doyoung’s families house. this was typical of your families at christmas, the host house alternating every year. 

“merry christmas!” ms kim greets at the door, allowing you enter into her home. “go to doyoung sweetie, he’ll get you a drink” she suggests, extending her arm to the living room, where sure enough, doyoung was. 

doyoung’s eyes devour your figure as you stand in front of him. your dress hugging your figure beautifully, showing you off in all the right places. “your mom told you to get me a drink” you say, an eyebrow raised. 

“wine?”

“red”

soon after you giving your order and taking a seat on the now empty couch, doyoung returns, two glasses of red wine in his hand, taking a seat beside you. “don’t you want to go into the dining room with everyone else?” 

“do you really want to listen to them more than you have to?” doyoung questions, earning a giggle from you as you sip on the expensive wine.

“absolutely not” you reply, getting comfortable on the couch, facing doyoung slightly. “are you going to the new years party in work?” 

“mhmm. it’ll be nice. it also would leave a bad impression on the boss if i didn’t show” doyoung replies sipping on his wine. things are weird between you two since the day in mr lee’s office. it’s like something switched inside the two of you. maybe it’s because you’re speaking as adults now, not children. maybe it’s because you’re both independent of your parents. for whatever reason, you can’t find the same hatred you had for doyoung previously. “are you going?” 

“mhmm” 

“will you look as beautiful as you do now?” doyoung questions, tilting his head slightly sideways. 

“w-what?” 

doyoung leans in, so close to your lips, eyes stuck on them. you close your eyes, thinking doyoung was about to close the gap between, but instead he whispers in your ear, “maybe you’ll get a midnight kiss”

“doyoung, y/n dinner come on!”  

doyoung stands up, a smug smirk on his lips as he extends a hand to help you up. 

“You’re insatiable Kim Doyoung”

December 31st 2020 

the work new years eve party is going much better than you thought it would. everyone mingling, getting to know each other more than just ‘the person in the office beside me’. everyone is currently sat on the rooftop of the building, a cozy little set up. the addition of alcohol in the coworkers interactions allows them to feel a lot more casual and at easy with each other. 

“everyone it’s just time! come on” someone shouts from beside the large projector mr lee had brought up for the countdown. everyone rises from their seats, glasses of champagne in their hands as they walk towards the projector. 

“ten”

“nine”

“eight”

“seven”

“six”

“five”

you feel an arm sling around you wait. looking up your eyes meet doyoung’s.

“four”

“three”

your heart is pounding in your chest as you get closer and closer to finishing the countdown, doyoung’s eyes remain glued on yours, like no one else is present.

“two”

you place a hand gentle on his upper chest.

“one”

“happy new year” doyoung whispers.

“happy new year”. before you can even process the celebratory screams and shouts around you, you feel a soft pair of lips against your own.

the kiss is so soft, delicate, lips gently placed together. you pull back slightly, looking up at doyoung, who rubs soft circles on your waist. you pull doyoung closer to you, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you, the body on body contact driving you wild. The kiss this time is harsher, needier, more desperate, your lips moving passionately against each other with such ease.

reality hits doyoung, remembering you are surrounded by colleges. he pulls back and whispers in your ear, “let’s get out of here baby, hmm?”

your back is against doyoung’s door the second you both make it into his apartment, doyoung’s lips attacking your neck, peppering it in kisses, sucking large marks all over. “mmh doyoung” you moan, tilting your head to the side, allowing the man have more access.

“jump” doyoung mumbles against your neck, tapping your thighs lightly as an indication, to which you comply. you jump, wrapping your legs around doyoung’s waist, him holding your legs up with his arms, his hands resting on your ass squeezing it as he begins bringing you to his room. “gonna fuck you so good” doyoung announces, nipping on your neck.

doyoung lays you on your back, him on top of you, not once detaching his lips from your neck. your hands find their way to the hem of his shirt, tugging at it, signalling for doyoung to remove the garment. doyoung complies, pulling back to unbutton his shirt, throwing it to the other side of the room. “your dress is so pretty baby, but i think it’ll look prettier on the floor” and with that, doyoung removes your beautiful red dress, allowing it to move to the floor, leaving you in your red lace lingerie. “fuck baby, you look so good for me” doyoung praises, already working on unclasping your bra.

the second your breasts are free from the confines of your bra, doyoung’s lips are on your right nipple, sucking on it harshly, flicking his tongue across the sensitive nub, leaving you a moaning mess. doyoung doesn’t neglect your other boob, messaging it with his large hand, pinching and twirling your nipple between two fingers. “fuck doyoung” you moan, grappling onto his hair, a small groan escaping doyoung’s lips in response, the vibrations against your nipple driving you wild.

doyoung trails kisses all the way down your stomach, making sure to leave his mark on the way. “you want me so bad huh? you’re a moaning mess for me already baby” doyoung smirks against your skin. 

“doyoung, i’m supposed to fucking hate you” you moan out as doyoung starts kissing along the lining of your soaking wet panties. 

“baby, we both know we’re passed that point now” doyoung chuckles as he pulls down your destroyed panties, proud of the mess he caused as he see’s your glistening folds, your juices starting to drip down your thigh. 

doyoung places open mouthed kisses on your thighs, taking in all of you. worshiping every inch of your body, the whimpers escaping your throat being music to his ears. “mmh fuck doyoung” you moan as doyoung licks a stripe up your dripping folds, collecting your juices on his tongue. 

“taste so good baby” doyoung groans, dragging two fingers up your folds and bringing them to your mouth letting you taste yourself, airy whines leaving your lips as you suck on his slender fingers. “gonna make you feel so good” 

with no warning, doyoung shoved two fingers into your tight hole, a scream escaping your lips as he does so. “f-fuck doyoung faster” you moan, grabbing the bed sheets tightly. doyoung listens, picking up his pace, fucking your dripping core with his fingers faster than you can even process.

the room is filled with your load moans, your legs shaking as doyoung’s pace gets faster and faster. doyoung smirks at you before bending down and attaching his lips to your clit, gaining a scream from you as your eyes roll to the back of your head. “doyoung i’m gonna cum fuck” you moan, grabbing onto his hair tightly.

doyoung moans against your clit, sending you over the edge. doyoung’s fingers and mouth don’t stop as you reach your high, continuining to move the whole way through and continuing after, sending your body into shock. “fuck doyoung i came already stop” you moan, causing doyoung to finally let you calm down, stopping his actions and looking at you with a proud look on his face.

doyoung meets your lips again, placing a chaste kiss on them before whispering in your ear, “you haven’t even taken my dick yet angel”. you look at him with doe eyes, as you feel his hard dick through his pants rub against your stomach.

“are you gonna take me like a good girl, hm?” doyoung questions, tucking your hair behind your ear. you respond with a nod but that’s not enough for doyoung. “words angel. use them”

“yes doyoung”

“good girl” he smiles, placing another quick peck on your lips before leaning back to remove his now very tight suit pants and boxers, allowing his hard dick to slap against his stomach, earning a small whimper from you.

“sit up for me baby” doyoung smiles, extending a hand for you to take, helping you sit up. “knees angel”

you comply to doyoung’s request, getting on your knees for him, now eye level with his hard length. doyoung pumps himself twice before tapping his length against your lips, giving you the hint to open for him, which you do.

you wrap your mouth around his leaking tip, collecting his precum on your tongue, earning a groan from doyoung. you move your lips to the base of his length, dragging your tongue all the way back to the top from the bottom, following the vein the goes the whole way up. “stop teasing fuck” doyoung grunts, grabbing a fist full of your hair. “suck”

you once again wrap your mouth around his tip, but before you could move by yourself, doyoung shoves your head down his entire length, hitting the back of your throat and causing you to gag. “pretty” doyoung smirks, enjoying the tears welling up in your eyes as you look up at him as he fucks your throat. moans and groans spill out of doyoung’s lips as your tongue works wonders on his hard length. a moan escapes your lips, causing his eyes to roll back in his head. “enough”doyoung groans, pulling your head off of him, “i’m not cumming until i fuck you baby”

doyoung effortlessly lifts you up, laying you down in the middle of his king sized bed. “do i need a con-”

“no!” you reply sharply. “no i’m on birth control. you don’t need one” you blush at your quick response.

“fuck you’re perfect” doyoung groans, attaching your lips together for the umpteenth time tonight. you’ve had your fair share of kisses, but none of them feel like doyoung’s. his lips feel like they’re made for you. your mouths move in perfect synchronisation, making you feel so whole, so excited.

you moan against doyoung’s lips as you feel his dick against your wet folds. “doyoung please i need you” you whine against his lips, earning a smirk from doyoung.

“so desperate for me angel” he teases. “how badly do you need me?” he questions, teasing you more by just sticking the head of his length in you.

“mmh fuck so bad doyoung i need you so bad, please” you plead, eyes wide showing your desperation.

“good girl” doyoung kisses you softy before moving his hips slowly, moving inside you inch by inch until he bottoms out, both of you whimpering at the feeling. “ready?”

“yes please move” you whimper underneath him.

doyoung wastes no time in grinding his hips in and out of you, fucking you at a fast pace. “you look so pretty angel” doyoung praises, “i love how fucked out you look for me”

“f-fuck doyoung” you moan as he picks his pace up again, you grabbing onto his forearms. “fucking me so good mmh”

doyoung throws back his head in pleasure, your words making him harder and harder, snapping his hips more harshly into you. “you’re so tight for me angel. such a good girl. you make me feel so good angel. all those pretty moans”

doyoung’s praises earn a loud moan from you, digging your nails into his back. you feel doyoung twitch inside you, he’s close. “my good girl. you’re mine angel aren’t you?”

“mmh yes doyoung fuck, just yours, no one else”

doyoung brings his hand to your clit, thumbing the bundle of nerves rapidly as a string of moans escape your lips. “cum with me baby yeah?”

“mmh yes fuck” you moan loudly as you both reach your highs. loud moans from both of you bounce off the walls at your euphoric feeling. “fuck” you whisper as doyoung pulls out of you carefully, his cum dripping out of your hole.

doyoung throws himself down beside you, pulling you into his arms, peppering your face in gentle kisses. “my good girl. you did so good for me baby, so so good” he praises, moving your hair out of your face. “i’m gonna get you cleaned up my love, okay? i’ll be back in a second” he says, placing a delicate kiss on your forehead and walking to the bathroom. 

doyoung returns a minute later with a wet wash cloth, sitting in between your legs. “i’ll try be gentle angel” doyoung warns, earning an appreciative smile from you. 

“Ah sore, sore, sore” you complain as doyoung meddles at your sensitive area. 

doyoung pouts seeing your pain. “sorry baby, i’m done now”. doyoung throws the wash cloth in his laundry basket before climbing back into bed with you, something he hopes he can get used to doing. he pulls you close against his chest and plays with your hair, as if he’d lose you if he didn’t hold you tight. 

“doyoung?” you question, looking up at him with soft eyes. 

“yes baby?”

“why did we spend so long hating each other” you frown. 

“well when we were kids, it was inevitable. but when i became a teenager, it was easier to still hate you than to admit my feelings for you” doyoung shrugs. 

“huh?” you reply confused. he liked you then?

“i liked you a lot when we were teenagers silly” doyoung chuckles. “you’re beautiful, you always have been, you can’t blame me!”

“so you were mean to me because you liked me” you scoffed playfully. 

“exactly” he chuckles, placing a soft kiss to your cheek. 

“you know y/n” doyoung speaks, “when i liked you back then, i knew we wouldn’t get together while still living at home. i knew we were both too stubborn, and our parents would be too difficult. but i told myself that i’d wait for you. that in the future, we’d meet again and you’d be mine. now, i have you, and it was so worth the wait. 

you can’t believe what you’re hearing. the kim doyoung who caused you all that struggle and strife, has been waiting to call you his. wants to love you. wants to be there for you. “bold of you to assume i want to be yours” you tease, sticking your tongue out at him. 

“well do you want to leave me?” he responds with an amused raised eyebrow. 

“never” you whisper, connecting your lips once again, your new favourite hobby. 

January 1st 2021

you had the best sleep of your life last night, in the arms of the one you love. you had the best morning of your life, waking up to cuddles, kisses, breakfast, coffee. it was nice having breakfast with him, the small talk and jokes, it just felt so domestic. so normal. so right. 

“babe, they’re going to be staring at my neck” you pout, as doyoung takes the keys out of the ignition as you pull up outside your workplace. 

“good” doyoung smirks, “they need to know you’re mine”. with a quick kiss on the lips, you’re both out of the car, walking towards the company building. 

walking in to your work hand and hand with doyoung, your neck littered in hickeys from him feels so right. you’re proud to be his. proud to let everyone know. you get some looks from coworkers as you walk through the building, but you couldn’t care less. he’s yours. 

“i’ll see you at lunch angel” doyoung smiles, leaning up against your office wall. 

“that’s if you can resist me for the long” you giggle. 

doyoung rolls his eyes playfully, “brat”  

never in a million years would you have believed you would end up loving kim doyoung. up until two months ago, he was nothing but competition to you. an obstacle to you. now, you want to be with him all the time. you love seeing his head sticking around the corner of your office when he’s at the coffee machine. you love hearing him talk. you love seeing him thrive at his job, no longer seeing him as competition. after all these years, you and doyoung are on the same team. your own team, not your parents. telling your parents about your relationship will probably be, a lot, but you’ll go through whatever it takes for kim doyoung. now you have him, you’re never letting go. 

———————————————————————

@bubudays @uhyikesbro @whoe-dis @nctxtrash @junglewoos @ajhdr @obligatoryidolblog

[sinnamonrolle]

Headcanons: Endearments [Obey Me!]

❀  gender neutral  ❀

! slight spoilers for Belphegor and Solomon !

I was thinking about this for a while, and I really want to share it with everyone else too.

These are gender neutral terms of endearment! And no matter how big you might be, you'll always be their lovely little human being ;)

Here are my headcanons for the terms of endearment from all 12 characters, including my reasoning for them! I had fun thinking about them.

Demon Brothers:

Lucifer

"Vesper", with variations such as "little Vesper" or "my little Vesper"

Lucifer means "Morning Star", and so after some digging online, there's actually a name for the "Evening Star'' as well, which is Vesper. Lucifer and Vesper both refer to the planet Venus, and so the reasoning behind why Lucifer would call you "Vesper'' is because he sees you as his other half, the other side of him. Together, you and him make up the brightest star in the sky.

I suppose it is more of a nickname than a term of endearment, but it's all the same. It's filled with love and adoration for you! No matter the time or place, he will always call you "Vesper" because it is also how he shows his pride in you, but he uses "darling" just as much. Leave it to him to call you his "darling Vesper."

Mammon

"Fortune", "little fortune", "my little fortune"

When you hear Mammon, of course you will think about money and physical possessions. The word "fortune" can be understood as related to the amount of owned assets, but also related to luck, chance, and destiny. So, to Mammon, you are his everything—his human, his wealth, his future. You are priceless in every way, and he’s so lucky, so fortunate to have you.

The endearment “little fortune” comes about accidentally. Mammon blurts it out one day, and he hurries to correct himself because “wait, wait, wait, I didn’t mean little fortune as in the amount because ya ain’t small at all. You’re really big—agh, that’s not what I mean! It sounds cute, okay! Little or big, it doesn’t matter. I won’t ever spend you.”

Leviathan

“Pearl”, “Henry”

I think we all know where “Henry” comes from, but what about “pearl”? Firstly, pearls are from the sea, which Leviathan is strongly related with. Leviathan himself has reptilian features—his snake-like tail, his birthmarks that resemble scales, his coral-like horns—in fact, Leviathan is known as a sea serpent. Pearls are treasures of the sea, and they are extremely beautiful as well. But there is also another connection you can make, this time with East Asian mythology. In East Asian mythology, dragons are often related to the sea, even residing in them. They are long, serpentine, wingless, but they still have two arms and two legs. They also are often depicted with a pearl, and this pearl is very, very important to the dragon. Seeing as Obey Me is a Japanese game, I think connecting Levi with an East Asian dragon isn’t too big of a stretch. Actually, there are many similarities, but there’s no need to dig into it today.

You know how Leviathan is. It will take Levi a long time before he begins using terms of endearment with you because of his insecurity. However, once he feels confident enough in using them, he’s super dramatic (and low-key romantic) with them. He’s watched enough anime and played enough games to know many terms, but is he able to use them? It’ll depend on how comfortable and confident he feels.

Satan

“Precious”, “beloved”, (and of course) “kitten”

Satan is extremely well read. This means that his arsenal is particularly wide. “Kitten” is a term that many of us may find familiar, and understandably so. We all know Satan’s love for cats. But I think Satan, as a being who is born from emotions, is more sensitive to them than others, and they make up an important part of him. Which is why, despite his large arsenal of endearments, he uses the “simpler” ones, but the ones that he does use, there’s a lot of emotions behind them. You are simply precious to him, and the most befitting endearment for it would be “precious”. There is nothing sweeter than a pure “beloved” filled only with love for you.

Asmodeus

“Treasure”, “jewel”, “my love”

If Asmo is the jewel of heaven, then you are the “treasure” of his life. You are as beautiful as a “jewel”, and you reflect the light like a “jewel” as well. The love they show you is reflected back twice as strong. For Asmo, his endearments for you don't come from the physical value behind them. In fact, Asmo himself doesn’t care for treasures or jewels, but out of them all, you are his “treasure”, his “jewel”, his “love”. He puts you equivalent (or maybe even higher) than himself, and he wants to show it to you not only through actions, but words as well.

Beelzebub

“Pudding” (and perhaps, other cute food endearments)

We all know how much Beel loves food, and we all know how much Beel loves his family, and so it’s almost obvious why Beel calls you “pudding.” As a human, you are squishy, squishier than demons, and you are also delicious looking. You smell good, you look good, and the comfort that food brings to Beel is equivalent if not greater than how you soothe and comfort him.

Although, while Beel loves calling you cute endearments, it makes him hungry, so he has to hold back on them. I guess that means more endearments when he’s full, but when he has to cope with his hunger and there’s no food around, Beel calls you by a wonderful amount of endearments. You do have to be careful though! He might decide to sample you. (In what ways? Who knows, heh.)

Belphegor

“My little sun”, “little sun”

He doesn’t call you his “little sun” because you are little, but because Beel is his bigger sun. Beel was in his life first, and then you came. But the order doesn’t really matter to Belphie because you are still a very important sun to him. In the twins’ bedroom, Beel has a sun motif on his side, and Belphie has a moon motif. Belphie is more comfortable with the darkness (literally and figuratively), so to him, you are his light that shines through and guides him to a better place. You are everything that he needs to survive.

Belphie’s trauma has affected him greatly, even if it doesn’t seem like it. So it takes a long time until he gets really attached to you, but when he does, he can’t live without you. Calling you his little sun is placing you in his heart, at the same level as Beel (Or perhaps even higher).

Other Demons:

Diavolo

“Little gold nugget”, “gold nugget”, “nugget”, “little nugget”

Contrary to how it may first sound, “little gold nugget” isn’t to diminish your value or your worth. To Diavolo, who probably has a low-key obsession with gold, “little gold nugget” is super adorable. He’s also never really been called an endearment before, nor has he ever called someone by one, so this is all new territory to him. Also, as a future king and a prince, everyone is important to him as his citizens. Diavolo is the king above all nuggets, but you in particular are his “little gold nugget.” He also wants you to call him by an endearment, a term only used for him, but that is something for you to decide on.

Barbatos

The closest thing to an endearment would be “Your Grace” for Barbatos. “Puffling”, if you can get him drunk enough (I’m somewhat joking here).

If you’re expecting something else, I’m afraid Barbatos is too polite, too cautious to simply throw around the usual terms of endearment. In fact, I think from the way Barbatos is, he turns a way of addressing nobility into an endearment for you only. However, if you do manage to worm an endearment out of him, he will jokingly call you a “puffling” after baby puffins. I think he finds them adorable, but it isn’t a serious endearment. Barbatos won’t be caught dead calling you a “puffling”—not because he doesn't want to—but because it’s not at all appropriate. He has an image to keep.

Angels:

Simeon

“Little sparrow”, “little droplet”, “little lamb”

“Little lamb” is a familiar term, and “little sparrow” is also something Simeon calls you. A sparrow represents many wonderful things, like joy, love, good fortune, luck, and so on, and Simeon considers you every one of those things and more. Like sparrows, droplets are also fragile—ephemeral in their lives. Droplets fall and disappear so easily. But droplets also signify uniqueness in that one droplet is separated from other collections of water. To Simeon, you stand out among others. You are wonderful, joyful, full of life, and so, so beautiful.

Luke

“Lamb” (perhaps “lambling”? I’m really unsure.)

He means it in a platonic way!! Like a guardian angel to a baby human, except that baby human is you.

We all see Luke as a child, but Luke, in this case, doesn’t see himself as one. He’s way, way older than you, and so while he is still immature among other angels, he’s lived way longer than you have. It might seem weird to have him call you an endearment, but you are a lamb in his eyes—pure, kind, gentle. You are someone who must be protected! And so while Luke doesn’t use endearments too much with you, he will use it when he’s feeling a little playful or dramatic. He prefers your own name because he loves how it sounds.

Human:

Solomon

“Little star”, “breadcrumbs” (as a joke)

Solomon has lived for who knows how long. As a human who has lived for that long, his mentality towards certain things might be a bit different from a regular human. Attachment is difficult for him due to his lifespan, and this is reflected in his attitude. Many people are fleeting in his life. The mundane becomes hard to appreciate after so long. Even memories erode after a lifetime. There is no particularly heavy sentiment behind “little star”, but he has begun to consider you as a part of his destiny, a star in the constellation of his life. And like a star, you appear so far away from him, so unapproachable due to how you are always surrounded by others. He can only appreciate you from afar, until you let him close.

“Breadcrumbs” is a lighthearted endearment that he once heard somewhere in the human world. When he calls you “breadcrumbs”, he doesn’t mean anything at all by it, only that it sounds absolutely ridiculous but also so adorable at the same time. It’s an amusing endearment he heard in his long, long life. “It’s the joy in the little things, and breadcrumbs are exactly that—little things,” Solomon will say, but no need to take him seriously. You will always be the star twinkling brightly in his life.

-------

Feel free to add what you think the characters would use as terms of endearment! I wanted something special for each character, so that's why this post was made lol

(If there are any errors, I will catch them sooner or later. Please, don't mind them.)

Masterlist!

[parkers-gal]

can u do one where is ag!reader’s birthday party and there’s a lot of celebrities there (like rihanna, beyonce, kylie, doja, megan...) and she introduce tom and the boys too to them? i love your writing 🥺💙

aww🥺

this sucks but i tried lol

wc: 1.8k

—

“C’mon, babes!” You pull him into your side. “It’ll be so much fun! And besides, you’re a social butterfly. You’ll fit right in,” you smile with some extra pep, and Tom laughs in response, finally nodding in agreement.

“Alright. But don’t touch your present until it’s time.” “I won’t!” You squeal. “That was one time!”

“One time too many!”

“Fine, fine,” you stand up. “C’mon, take a shower with me.”

Tom raises a brow, “Oh?”

“It’s my birthday,” you smirk, “I can have whatever I want.”

“That indeed, darling,” he’s pulled up by your arms, and the two of you go off to get ready for the party in just a few hours.

Finally, forty minutes later, you’ve dressed and prepared to drive down to the country club you’ve rented out for the party. You don’t normally make such a big deal about your birthday, but because of the success of your recent album, you know everyone would want to rejoice after all the time in quarantine.

Applying your last bit of lip liner, Tom comes strolling in while adjusting his Rolex watch. He reaches for the comb sitting in the top drawer, and you admire how sensual he looks getting ready.

“See something you like, love?”

“Ah ah ah,” You stop him. “I get free access to gawk over your hands. Today is shame-free, baby,” You do the rock ‘n’ roll sign for dramatics, and Tom teasingly rolls his eyes.

“Okay, go sit in the car, love. I need to get your present into the trunk while you aren’t eyeing my hands.”

“Yeah yeah,” You wave him off, and as you leave the bathroom, Tom playfully slaps your ass, sparking a giggle from you.

Afterward, when you finally do arrive, your mom and close friends/choreographers have already made sure the setup was complete. The first few guests to arrive are your closest confidants: Victoria Monet, Tommy Brown, Scootie and Mikey, Tayla Parx, and Courtney Chipolone.

“You look good, girl!” Victoria greets you with a soft hug, her highlight accentuating the beautiful shades of her skin.

“You too!” you reciprocate her excitement.

“And happy birthday,” she holds you at arm’s length before turning to Tom. “Treating the birthday girl well?”

“Of course, of course,” he clasps his hands together and smiles so wide that his eye crinkles show. You smile at that, hand going to the small of his back to pull him closer.

More people arrive, and soon enough the hall is packed and you’ve lost Tom in a crowd of familiar faces. You see him sitting at the bar, engaging in conversation with his brother Sam and Scott, your choreographer. Deciding to make your way over to him, you’re halfway through the bunch of the crowd when Abel stops you to catch up.

“Oh-! Can I be right back?”

He nods with a smile, sipping his cocktail and letting you run off again. Quickly, you make your way to the barstool that seats Tom.

“Hey love,” he greets.

“Hi, baby,” You curl into his side, waving gently to the boys sitting beside him. “C’mon, I want you to meet some people.”

“Welp,” Tom stands, “That’s my cue.” The three of them share a laugh and then he’s linking his hand with yours and letting you take the lead.

“You know The Weeknd, right?”

“What?” Tom stops, and because his hand is linked with yours it stops you too. “No, love, that’s- I’m- you can’t introduce me to him!”

“Why not?” You giggle. “He’s just a person.”

“Yeah, and extremely talented and successful person who my brother happens to obsess over.” You roll your eyes teasingly while beginning to pull him along again. “You’ll be fine, you big baby. Besides, he’s always wanted to meet you.”

“Alright,” he mumbles, still nervous but trusting you. Before long, he’s standing in front of the “After Hours,” singer, shaking his hand and engrossing himself in easy conversation. It flows so well that Tom almost doesn’t remember being nervous to meet him.

“I’m gonna get a refill,” He excuses himself. “It was great to catch up, Y/N/N. And nice meeting you, Tom,” he pats Tom’s shoulder as the two of you wave him goodbye.

Tom lets out a heavy breath, one of relief and pure excitement from having just met another big-time celebrity.

“Look at you, big guy,” you tease, tapping his shoulders in a taunting manner. Tom rolls his eyes and chuckles, catching your hands with his and pulling you to his chest for an almost kiss.

“Shut up,” he mumbles.

“Make me.”

And he does — with his lips. When the two of you separate, you spot a group of girls in the corner and you immediately light up. Tom doesn’t have time to process what’s happening before you’re tugging him along to another side of the room.

“C’mon! There‘re more people I want you to meet!”

“Love! I’m not prepared!” he whisper-shouts. You ignore his pleas and enlargen the circle of familiar friends.

“Girlies!” they squeal as you greet them. “It’s good to see you all! There’s someone I wanna introduce you all to…” You pull Tom along, who’s a blushing, bashful mess of British and messy curls. “Tom, this is Doja, Megan, and Nicki.” You gesture to each one as you say their names. “Guys, this is Tom, my boyfriend.”

“The one you always talk about in the studio?”

“Oh, that one! In all your pictures! He’s the one on your lock screen, right?”

Nicki chuckles from behind her champagne glass, observing the encounter unravel.

“Is that so, darling?” Tom eyes you, and you groan dramatically. “Didn’t know you were so head over heels for me.”

“Oh… hush,” you sass him, and everyone laughs.

“A little birdie told me you had something to do with the makings of Positions…” Nicki teases.

You gasp, feigning shock. “I never should’ve told you that! Ugh,” You groan again, and everyone laughs at your flustered state. “I slipped up one time. One! Time!”

“Feel free to keep slipping up, then,” Tom teases. You lightly slap his upper chest and he giggles, pulling you in to steal another kiss.

“Y/N says you’ve just wrapped filming with Zendaya…?” Doja suggests, and Tom immediately lights up again.

“Oh, yeah! Spider-man three. Actually, I think Daya may be here.”

“She is,” You confirm. “She’s with Jacob and Harry by the pool table.”

“I’m gonna introduce myself,” Doja smiles slyly, and you and Tom share a laugh at her antics. Megan trails after her, champagne glass still in her hands.

“Don’t embarrass me!” She stops to speak to you one last time. “Oh, and happy birthday, Y/N. It was really nice meeting you, Tom,” she waves and Tom returns the gesture.

The two of you are left alone with Nicki, who’s speaking to a man that Tom guesses to be her boyfriend. You pull Tom along again, settling by the snack table to grab a few churros and pretzels.

“So? Whaddya think?”

“Megan had really nice nails,” He says through bites.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he smiles, though his mouth is stuffed. “Super pretty.”

“Well, I’ll make sure to tell her.”

Tom chuckles softly, sipping some bottled water. You watch the way his jawline accentuates and you have to force your eyes away from his soft skin and back to the cinnamon delight in your hands.

“Nicki is literally just like her songs. Like- she talks in the same way. It’s so funny.”

“Yeah,” you lick your lips, mindlessly giving Tom the rest of your churro while he hands you his half-empty water bottle. “She’s such an entertaining person. It’d be fun to get together with her one day.”

“Definitely,” Tom smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Who’s next?”

“I think Kylie and her sister are here.”

“Oh my god,” he swallows. “Is Stormi here?”

“Of course you’d ask that.” You roll your eyes, putting the bottle into the recycling bin and pulling Tom towards a gathering of couches and lounge chairs. When you spot her, Travis Scott is taking pictures for what you assume to be her Instagram. She’s dressed in a skin-tight dress and some elegant heels, and you make a mental note to compliment her later.

“Kylie!” You make yourself known. She lets out a soft “oh!” and stands immediately to hug you. Travis turns his phone off and shakes Tom’s hand while you talk with Kylie. “It’s good to see you.”

“And you! Happy birthday,” She smiles before turning to Tom.

“Hey. I’m Tom. Y/N’s-”

“Boyfriend,” She finishes, shaking his hand. “I’m Kylie.”

When you notice Travis making his way back over to the three of you, you see Stormi in his arms and from your peripheral vision, Tom is bouncing on his feet in excitement.

“Stormi, this is Tom. He wanted to meet you,” Travis whispers softly, setting her down on her feet. She gravitates towards Tom, and the two of them start talking rather passionately about something fun. You chuckle at them, but you can’t help admiring Tom for his skills with kids.

You talk with Kylie about the past few months, and after several minutes, you see Harry and Harrison making their way over to you and Tom.

“And who’s this little lady?” Harrison smiles when Stormi giggles, and he kneels to her level.

“Stormi,” She says softly. Both Harrison and Tom clap and praise the sweet girl for introducing herself all on her own. Tom takes a seat on one of the lounge chairs, and Stormi finds comfort on his left leg while playing with his right hand. They discuss which nail polish colors would be best with Tom’s look, and you indulge in Kylie’s newest beauty and skincare products.

Later on, you’re back at the snack table with Tom, and after sufficiently filling up, you offer another suggestion. “Up for meeting Madonna again?”

Tom’s eyes widen and he groans, shaking his head in panic. “No. Absolutely not. Not after what happened last time-”

“Okay, okay, okay,” you say between laughs, grabbing his hand to calm him down. You wrap your arms around his neck and link your hands, leaning against him in a slow-dance position. His hands find the skin of your waist in comfort. The moment doesn’t last long when you notice Tom’s brothers making their way over with a glint in their eyes — you know they want something.

“What do you divs want?” Tom asks, playfully rolling his eyes.

“Well…���

“We heard Nicki Minaj is here,” Harrison interrupts Sam.

“Would you introduce us?” Harry beams in hope. He looks almost nervous, albeit still excited, about asking. Whether that’s because you might say no, or because she’s one of his favorite artists, neither you nor Tom know.

Separating from Tom, you let out a deep and exasperated breath, smiling goodbye and unlinking your hand with his. “Here we go again!” You whisper while the boys pull you along in the direction of the Queen of Rap.

[darthkruge]

Hi! So I've been reading a lot of you stuff, and it's great! And I was wondering if you could do a Jess Mariano x reader where the reader helps Jess get over Rory. And Jess realizes that he's already in love with the reader? If not, it's fine.

Thank you!!

Summary: Everyday since Jess and Rory broke up, Jess has gone to sit on the bridge. Everyday, you join him and sit together until, one day, he breaks the silence. 

Warnings: Language, this is kinda angsty. Like it ends on a positive note because you know he realizes he loves the Reader but like this isn’t intense fluff. 

Words: 1.3k

A/N: Thank you!! And yes of course, I hope you like this! Also, your request was so sweet and polite, I really appreciate that :). I know that this doesn’t strictly stick to canon, but I thought this made more sense. Moreover, I just love writing Gilmore Girls when it’s set in Stars Hollow. Anyway, I hope all that’s okay  <3

Oh one more thing! I’m really tired rn and I formatted this super rushed so if something’s off or I forgot something...whoops 

(gif not mine)

It had been a month since Rory broke his heart. Jess Mariano still visited the bridge everyday, sitting there, legs hanging over the water, disposition more solemn than you’ve ever seen. You hated seeing him like this-- his light, sarcastic remarks had become cruel and acerbic. Some days, you barely recognized him. Despite this, he was still your best friend and you knew that if the roles were reversed, he wouldn’t give up on you either. 

Lost in thought, you allowed your legs to subconsciously carry you to the bridge, as they did every other night. Jess was illuminated by the moon, the cold, Connecticut air ruffling through his hair. You came and wordlessly sat next to him, something he’d grown to expect. 

Every time started the same. You’d sit down and just be there with him, keeping him in silent company for the first fifteen minutes. He could talk if he wanted to but almost never did. Sometimes, he’d take your hand and play with your fingers. Sometimes, he’d notice you were cold and wrap his jacket around you. Sometimes, your eyes would briefly meet and you’d give him a reassuring smile.

Then, you always asked if he wanted to talk about it. Usually he’d just shake his head. Occasionally, he’d complain about her, saying he deserved better and that she was a terrible girlfriend. Occasionally, he’d complain about himself, asking why he was so broken that he had to fuck up the one good relationship he’d ever been in. He never cried. At least, not in front of you. 

Expecting the same as every prior encounter, you walked up and sat next to him. 

“Hi,” He greeted, catching you off guard.

You made sure to scale back your reaction, not wanting to scare him off with a huge response. “Hey.”

Jess wordlessly got up and held a hand out to you. Taking it, you allowed him to stand you up and pull you into his chest. He buried his face in your neck, tears running down his cheeks. As sobs were pulled from his body, you gently rocked him back and forth, trying to pour every ounce of comfort you had into him. 

Eventually, Jess pulled back and, without meeting your gaze, returned and sat down on the bridge. You followed. You took a risk, opting to rub your hand up and down his back, letting him know you were still here and encouraging him to share, if needed. 

“Why do you still come here?”

You looked at him, confused. “What?”

“Why do you still come here?” He repeated, finally meeting your eyes. “All I do is sit here, silently. So why do you still come here? I know you have shit you could be doing”

“Because you’re my best friend. Because you’re in pain. Because you have a tendency to shut the entire world out and I’m not going to let you plunge into darkness.”

“I just don’t understand how it all got so fucked up. It was fine! Rory and I were fine! And then it all just got screwed up and now I’m here and she’s gone and it’ll never be the same again!” His voice broke, anger and pain evident in his voice.

“Hey!” You said, voice strong. “You’re going to be alright, Jess. I know you loved her, I know. But your life isn’t over just because she isn’t in it anymore. Please, you know how much she meant to you, but you have to start looking forward. You’ll never get past this if you keep clinging onto what could have been.”

“Fuck, I know that! I do! I just- I really thought we would work out, you know?”

Your gaze softened. Jess wasn’t always the easiest to talk to but pretty much no one ever saw this level of vulnerability with him. As he spoke, he realized this, too. He was never more honest, more open, than when he was with you. 

“I know you did. I thought you would, too.” It killed you to not scream ‘I’m right here!’ as he talked about his failed relationship. But you wouldn’t do that to him right now. He needed a friend, not someone dumping all these romantic feelings on him. Besides, you’d grown accustomed to swallowing your feelings for him. You realized long ago that he’d never like you back and you much preferred to have him in your life, even as only a friend, than lose him altogether. 

Jess and you slipped back into that silence you were so accustomed to. He thought about the last month, about what a shit friend he���d been to you. He was beating himself up mentally, stuck in this unhealthy spiral. He knew you didn’t deserve it but he felt like if he pushed you away, you’d be better off. Further, he was trying to punish himself; isolating from you was the most painful consequence of all. 

He took a breath, the gravity of everything settling on him. He realized how good you’ve been, how you’d sacrificed countless hours to simply keep him company. How you spent your energy ensuring he didn’t let himself drown completely. How he could turn to you always. How you were the kindest person he’d ever met. How you were the only person he’d allowed himself to trust on an emotional level. How your displays of affection made him feel safe. How you respected his boundaries and never forced him to talk about anything. How you just understood. 

Shit, He thought, I’m fucking in love with Y/N.

Instead of telling you that, Jess started off by breaking the silence one more by thanking you.

“For what?” You wondered.

“Everything. I dunno, being you, I guess.” You looked at him quizzically, lips threatening to curl into a laugh and his inability to convey his thoughts. 

“Just accept the ‘thank you’ alright?” Jess continued, defensively. 

“You’re welcome.” Despite your smirk, your words were sincere. It truly did mean a lot to you that he’d come to you. 

Somehow, this boy continued to surprise you. Suddenly, his lips were on yours and, being stunned, you froze. Jess pulled back immediately, an apology written all over his face. Before he could get it out, though, it was like your brain started working again and you pulled him back in. He smiled into the kiss, a relieved sigh passing through the both of you. You could hardly believe this was happening but you weren’t going to question it, it’s all you’ve wanted for so long. 

Your heart was racing as you pulled away. You looked at him, no idea what comes next. 

“I think I’m in love with you, Y/N”

Your mind went blank. Even though you had no idea what was going to happen after the kiss, you hadn’t even entertained the notion of him being in love with you.  

You scrambled to find something to say but he cut you off. “It’s alright, you don’t need to respond. I just, I wanted you to know. I think that I was too stupid to realize it before, I mean I was so obsessed with trying to figure out what went wrong with Rory. I didn’t even think about moving on and then I guess we were talking and I realized…”

He trailed off but you knew the meaning of his pauses. Collecting yourself, you decided it was your turn to say something. “I think I’m in love with you, too. Actually, I know I’m in love with you. And I have been for a really long time, I just didn’t want to mess everything up. I love our friendship, I don’t want to lose you if we start dating and something happens.”

“You won’t. Nothing’s gonna happen.” He said it with such certainty, you couldn’t help yourself. You believed him.

------

join my taglist, if you so desire 

jess tags:

@serpntines

[dankali]

I’ve been wanting to talk about this for a while, but let me speak on why and how I genderbend characters the way that I do.

When I originally started doing this, I knew my genderswapping content would be a regular thing I posted about. I knew because no matter what fandom I was obsessed with at the time, I would always be dissatisfied with the Rule 63 content in it.

Anyone who asks will know that I love designing genderbends because it gives me room to speculate on: “If this character was biologically male/female, how would they conduct themselves within this heteronormative society?”. (Also, as a nonbinary individual, it fulfills my fantasy of being able to just mess with sex whenever I want). It forces me to think as I draw or write: “Would it be characteristically accurate for them to do x, y, and z as the opposite sex?” And it honestly motivates me to create more.

However, it became clear to me near the beginning that not everyone saw genderbending that way.

If I may use the Haikyuu fandom for a second, I’ve seen a lot of Rule 63 content for the characters. But, hardly any of it scratched that particular itch I had. No hate to the creators, of course! But, something told me that some design choices were made without much thought towards the canon characters’ physical appearance and personality.

It didn’t make sense to me that fem!Hinata OR fem!Kenma would have super long hair. That fem!Oikawa (ESPECIALLY in the peak of the Flattykawa jokes) would suddenly be super curvaceous. That fem!Iwaizumi would be reduced to an unthreatening, cutesy, tsundere type.

It really did feel like boobs, super long hair, and a flat, hyper-feminine personality trope were slapped on and left at that. It felt…fanservice-y…almost depthless. The swapped versions didn’t give me the same energy as the canon versions, just in the opposite sex.

And in that, was my mission.

I wanted to show how fem!Hinata wouldn’t know what a brush is, thinking that throwing her messy hair into a ponytail would suffice. How fem!Kenma probably would have long hair before dying it, but would quickly cut it to chin-length after realizing her mistake. How fem!Oikawa might have thighs with no ass, but compensates just fine with her style. How fem!Iwaizumi would catch wind of not being taken seriously because of her gender, and learning to become more intimidating to own her space.

I wanted to show how fem!Kuroo and fem!Bokuto would be given a bit of flack for their bulky/lanky body types, but learned to be unapologetic about it in spite of that. That fem!Kageyama might subconsciously style her hair like Oikawa’s because of how she looked up to her in middle school. That fem!Ushijima would likely not have many friends or romantic prospects because of how intimidating she looks, and how fem!Tendou would stick close to her because of their shared outcast status.

I wanted something more than the surface level “Oh look, that character has traditionally feminine/masculine traits!”. And I haven’t posted enough to say I’ve fulfilled my goal.

But, I’ll try. And it’ll be fun for me. And, hopefully, you guys will enjoy it too!

[satellitesoundwave]

Long ask Jazzwave anon here and you articulated my thoughts on inter-Spec Ops dynamics to a tee. In general, I think they’re a bit closer than the other autobots due to the shared nature of their experiences/skill sets, but let’s not forget who they are. It’s a group of individuals whose job is to lie, manipulate, and betray and asking them to trust each other and be vulnerable seems almost counterintuitive to their nature. That being said, they are on the same “side” and I think the reasons you brought up to why Jazz specifically can’t be more vulnerable with them are very apt. As TIC, he knows feeding into a separatist notions would cause a fractions to the movement and he’s well aware of what his team is capable of. As command, he’s truly isolated like OP, but not in the same sense. OP is the figurehead and arguably garners equal fervor/following from the autobots as the cause, where as that respect/trust isn’t at the same level with Jazz. OP is infallible, but Jazz makes himself “trustworthy”/friendly to the extent he keeps up his facade. But in all honesty, I do enjoy the camaraderie and bits of fondness/respect Jazz has for his team. Like I feel like there’s real opportunity for him to build long lasting relationships with them but only truly in a post-war context. From DwtD, I can’t imagine them ribbing Jazz the same way the cassettes rip on SW for their mutual crushes, but I can see a bit of teasing, especially from Mirage. Jazz is so uncool regarding SW that he certainly couldn’t hide it from his team lmao. Which is always fun, especially bc you get them vibe from Jazz from the opening of the fic :P Us vibing on the wavelengths makes me feel like your Jazzwave fic will hit all the cravings I have for these two! I have constant thoughts about them, but rare pairs are hell for the slim pickings of people equally obsessed about them. Also the word building and premise have me drooling (Swindle is also one of my fav characters by the sheer ridiculousness of The Hustle).

I can see a bit of teasing, especially from Mirage

i had to jump straight on this bc lmao yeah, and also i have been turning over thoughts about this a bunch recently for Networking. i wanted to keep the scope of Deal with the Devil focused down on that one location and set of events so there wasn’t room to include it, but boy i very much did think about Mirage ribbing Jazz over his crush (while also quietly being a bit concerned, bc yes Jazz makes sport of dangerous games but this one is particularly perilous). Networking is going to have the space for me to indulge in having lots of Jazz & Mirage friendship focus (act 2 especially, which’ll be from Jazz’s pov). i’m not sure i want to reveal too much about the angle i’ll be taking on it yet, but i think there’s a lot of interesting room to play around with Jazz, Mr Popular himself, being close friends with Mirage, who’s defining traitTM is him being such a social outsider people will readily jump on the suggestion of him being a traitor at the drop of a hat

i mean i do hope it’ll satisfy your cravings! Networking is the next instalment of Fics Powered Entirely By Self-Indulgence, but what i’ve been learning from putting (Re)Experience and Deal with the Devil where other people can see them is that self-indulgence often scratches an itch for a lot more people than i initially expected, so there is hope :3

also i never know what to count as rairpairs in tf fandom lol. Like jazzwave’s got nothing on the juggernaut ships, but i’ve also seen ships with just like a single person doing the lords work of dedicatedly creating content for them, the spectrum is vast.   

(Swindle is great isn’t he. He won me over with the “The name’s Swindle, I’m what you might call an intergalactic arms dealer” bit in tfa. A real 'oh, this guy’s fun' moment)

[amjustagirl]

Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven.

Wordcount: 3k

Summary: 

Akaashi Keiji catches glimpses of another life in his dreams. He dreams of fields of endless gold, of constellation of stars that light up the night sky. He hears the echo of birdsong in her laughter, her song to the gods in the wind.

(Loosely inspired by Kimi No Nawa)

Masterlist link here 

AO3 link here

Author’s note: This fic is a little different from my usual work, so I’m a little nervous about publishing it. If you do like it, would love if you leave a comment / reblog / anything! 

If you’d like to be included in the taglist, do drop me a msg/ask! 

The first time it happens, Akaashi is in his third year of university. 

The upside of staying in Tokyo for university (his mother cried when he got into Waseda, her alma mater) is that he sees his family almost every weekend for cosy family dinners. The downside of staying in Tokyo for university is that he really has no excuse when his parents insist on carrying on Hatsumode, the first prayer of the new year, at the crack of dawn at the shrine close to their home. It’s not that he minds the tradition per se, but he did just spend all night rushing his projects just so he could adhere to the unspoken rule that no work should be done during the New Year holidays and spend some time flying kites with his little cousins. 

Still, there is something magical about starting the New Year watching dawn break and the world awaken from its slumber just as he reaches the summit of all twenty six steps to the top of the shrine, shrouded in the bare branches of the wisteria trees. He tosses coins into the box, drops into a deep bow twice, chin at waist level, clapping twice before bowing a final time. His mother buys far too many omamori, presses at least half of them into his unwilling hands when the omikuji he draws has a great curse scribbled on it. He’s not superstitious, so it doesn’t bother him, but he knows his mother is, so he does accept the omamori with some grace, though he draws the line at the love charm she tries to sneak into the pile. 

‘Mum, I’m too busy at school for a partner’, he tells her firmly. ‘Why don’t you pass it to Yuji-kun, he’s already started work, but hasn’t found a girlfriend from what Oba-chan tells me’. His elder cousin shoots him a particularly malevolent glare that he meets with a placid smile as his mother diverts her attention to him instead.

The faintest shiver runs up his fingers when he deposits the old charm he found in the corner of his closet, grey and faded with time, in the koshinsatsu osamedokoro, the omamori drop off open only during the first day of the New Year. The shiver turns into a ripple of cool water racing up his wrists and roars into an tsunami of dread when the attendant tells him all deposited charms will be burnt in the ritual fire in a fortnight’s time, but he writes it off as a symptom of his lack of sleep and starts to turn away. 

There’s a sudden echo of a nightmare of raging flames that prompts him to swivel around to snatch the omamori and stuff it back in his pocket, muttering apologies to the shocked attendant. Later, when he has time to process his impulse, he’d find it strange. In the meantime however, the festivities wait for no one, so he distracts himself by eating far too much dango and mochi in between rounds of tossing kites up to catch the wind. His uncles slip him full cups of sake and sweetened rice wine to his mother’s disapproval, which in hindsight he should have heeded, as he stumbles to bed that night, head heavy with alcohol. 

That night he dreams of a girl with curly hair, lying in a field of endless gold - daffodils to mark the dawn of spring. 

‘Also known as narcissus’, he hears himself say, hears himself narrate the myth of a man so entranced by his own reflection in the water that he lost his will when he realizes he cannot have his object of desire. A girlish voice lilts teasingly – ‘the flowers are too pretty to be ruined by your obsession of stories written by grumpy old men’. He wakes up with the ghost of laughter on his lips, but there’s a lingering sense of loss budding in barren soil of his heart. 

It does prompt him to pop by the florist near his parents’ house to order a bouquet of daffodils for his mom to be delivered on the first day of spring. He’s accustomed to the old couple running the shop, so he pauses just for a second when he walks into the store to find a new girl at the counter. She must not be used to customers yet, dropping the bouquet she’s working on when she notices him. 

‘Hi’, she stammers, cheeks pink. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘I’d like to make an advance order for daffodils please.’ 

‘For spring?’ she asks, and he nods, writing down his parents’ address when prompted. ‘That’s a good choice!’ 

She waves him off with a cheerful – ‘please come back again’, and he does not notice that there are stars in her eyes. 

His mother drags him back to the shrine on the third day of the holidays, and he obliges her, ever the dutiful only son, even though the frigid temperature makes his breath puff up into clouds and the tip of his nose turns numb. The old omamori is still snug in his jacket pocket, and as his fingers brush against it, he can feel the threads of the charm unravelling, the fabric almost fragile in its worn, threadbare state but he does not attempt to dispose of it again.  

‘What are you going to do once you’re done with your degree, Keiji?’ His mother asks, when they stop by an old teahouse for a cup of steaming genmaicha, the aroma of roasted rice tea warm against his cold nose. 

‘I intend to apply for a job at a publishing company after I graduate’, he tells her seriously, and she nods, encouraging him to continue. ‘I’m hoping it’s something to do with my major, preferably Japanese literature, better yet if it's poetry, but in this market, I’ll take what I can get’. 

His mother nods, smiling at him fondly. ‘I remember you used to be obsessed with Shakespeare and Greek myths when you were younger, all the way through high school, and your father and I thought that you’d end up majoring in that in university. You really surprised us when you chose to major in Japanese literature instead.’

‘I don’t know why, to be honest. Maybe I had a good Japanese literature tutor?’ He laughs, fiddling with his teacup. 

‘Mm I don’t think so though. I remember you complaining that Raku-sensei was so dull he caused everyone to fall asleep.’ He shrugs, and though she stares at him curiously, she does not pursue the line of conversation any further. 

That night he dreams of waking up in an old wooden house, shivering in a thick futon, the smoldering embers from the irori, mere inches from his face. It’s so very different from his childhood bedroom filled with modern appliances and walls of books neatly shelved in alphabetical order, but he doesn’t notice that in the dark. Instead, he reaches for his phone to check the time, bolting awake because that can’t be, he never misses his alarm, mentally calculating that he must leave the house in exactly fifteen minutes to make it in time for practice when a little boy bursts through the door. 

‘Nee-chan’, the little boy whines. ‘I’m hungry. Time for breakfast’. 

Did he just say Nee-chan? Scratch that - since when did he have a little brother? 

He scrambles out of bed, groping his way in the dark to the washroom. The cold water should wake him up, but when he looks up at the mirror above the sink, the face he’s staring at does not belong to him. No - it belongs to a dark eyed girl with curly hair - but it doesn’t make sense, shouldn’t make sense, because when he reaches a trembling finger to poke at the mirror, he is she or she is him - 

The ensuing panic and confusion makes him jerk out of his dream, but when he rushes to the washroom to check that he’s still himself, he is relieved to see that it’s still him - Akaashi Keiji, with dark circles around his eyes, staring back in disbelief. 

He chalks his strange dream up to the stress he carries around from trying to clear all his course work so he can audit additional classes over the next term. 

Except the dreams don’t stop, not even when he moves back to the university dorms. He keeps waking up drenched in cold sweat, clutching at his arms even though they’re clear of the scratches he sees in his dreams, red and raw and stretching all the way up his elbows. 

‘Be kinder to Hana-chan, Keiji-kun’, he hears the call of the same girl in his mind and he shudders, unsure whether the disembodied voice floating through his mind is a memory from his dream. ‘She’s going through an awfully tough time’.

‘It doesn’t give her the right to hurt you like that’, he can hear his faint disapproval. 

‘Never mind that, it’s not a big deal. What are we reading today – don’t tell me it’s anything like Hamlet. That was horrendously depressing.’ 

‘Midsummer’s Night Dream? It’s a romantic comedy at least.’

‘Only a nerd like you would read Shakespeare in high school – and it’s not even in Japanese!’

‘Hush – you don’t get to complain when I’m reading it out to you.’

‘What on earth is going on’, he mutters to himself. The copious amounts of frigid water he splashes onto his face is no antidote to this madness.

‘Sato-san, are you feeling alright?’ he asks his grimacing classmate in concern, lines of pain etched onto her face. 

‘I’m fine, Akaashi-kun’, she manages to spit out, clutching her stomach with white-knuckled hands. ‘It’ll pass in a bit, I hope’. 

‘Are you sure you’re fine? I could help you to the nurse’s office if that helps’. 

His classmate shakes her head, a blush staining her cheeks. ‘It’s just that time of the month. I apologise if that’s too much information to be polite’. 

Ah. But somehow even though he has no sisters, and his female classmates in high school were oddly reticent about their periods (strange, considering it is part and parcel of being a mammal for far more than a millenium) the steps to deal with this particular conundrum come to him so naturally it’s almost as if the answers were presented to him previously in a dream. 

‘Here’, he passes Sato-san painkillers, chocolate and a hot water bottle he’d managed to talk the university nurse into loaning him, and Sato practically whimpers in gratitude. 

‘You’re a lifesaver, Akaashi-kun’, she tells him and he nods, content that he’s solved the problem so efficiently. 

That night he wakes up in her body again. The room is dark, save for the sliver of white light between the blinds that allows him to discern the growing crimson stain between her legs. 

‘Don’t you know all women have to deal with this nonsense every month? But I’ll tell you a trick - painkillers, chocolate and a hot water bottle will make you feel as right as rain’, he hears her voice declare in his mind, and he startles awake to find himself back in his own bed, blessedly clear of any bloodstains. 

It must be a dream borne out of what happened today, he tells himself firmly and shrugs it off. The rest of his slumber is thankfully shorn of dreams. 

But then these dreams start to crash into his sleep like a series of never ending waves, and he’s a short hop, skip, jump away from falling off the cliff into a distracted madness, the rate his sleep keeps getting disrupted. He keeps waking up in her body, it makes him feel like a creep, wearing her skin like an ill-fitting glove, and he decided does not think about how strange it feels to have twin lumps of flesh in front of his chest (his mother raised him to be a gentleman, after all). 

The contents of these dreams are relatively cyclical. He wakes up at dawn, puts on her school uniform, makes breakfast for the little boy - Toya-chan over the primitive hearth before rushing to school through dirt paths lined with trees. His - or rather her classmates stare at her with a mix of condescension and apathy, and her hours in school are spent in a lonely silence, save when Hana-chan gets up in her face and screams absolute nonsense about staying the fuck away from her, which seems a little dramatic considering she’s the one doing the confronting, but it’s just a dream, so he keeps telling himself. It’s not like he can change anything about it. 

‘Does it bother you? That you’re alone?’ he asks her one day. 

‘Not really. I have you and Toya-chan, don’t I?’ she responds. 

‘I suppose’, he says, voice trailing off. 

He catches glimpses of sun drenched afternoons spent in fields of flowers, glances of dusky evenings spent in the forest basking in the light of the setting sun. He agonizes over stacks of homework, digs for mushrooms in the damp earth, climbs through wire fences to scavenge for eggs in neighbouring farms. 

‘Aren’t your parents worried about you and Toya-chan?’ he can hear himself question her one night. 

‘My mom is dead and my dad can’t be home often, he works on construction projects around Sapporo. He sends cash to me and Toya-chan, and it isn’t always enough, but he tries his best ’, she answers, her voice feather light. 

‘I’m sorry’, he tells her a little awkwardly, thinking about his happy family and wondering how it’d feel like to have them torn away from him so early on in life. 

‘Don’t be’, she replies, ‘Sometimes I wonder if it’s better to have good parents who’re dead or absent rather than horrible parents who’re still alive’. 

He jolts awake again, relieved to find himself back in his bed. It’s barely four in the morning, but he’s not going to be able to sleep after that, so he resigns himself to using the time to get cracking on his college assignments anyway. But he makes sure to call his mother once day breaks and he’s sure she’s returned from the market with groceries in tow, telling her awkwardly that he’s just calling to catch up and hopes she’s been well and ok bye mum I love you very much, heart pounding when he hangs up abruptly. 

He has a standing appointment on the first Thursday every month to meet Kenma for coffee at a café a stone’s throw away from Waseda. They both order black coffee, which is strange for Kenma considering his legendary sweet tooth, but he knows Kenma too well to know that the ridiculously successful game streamer is only drinking coffee to stay awake, the shadows under his eyes deeper and darker than those under Akaashi’s own eyes.  

‘Doesn’t Kuroo-san nag you go to bed at a decent time?’ 

Kenma doesn’t even bother to flick his eyes up, busy gulping mouthfuls of the bitter liquid. ‘Speak for yourself. Not sleeping well either?’ 

Akaashi shrugs his shoulders helplessly, stirring his coffee. ‘Mm. ‘I’ve been having strange recurring dreams and it’s been affecting my sleep’. 

Kenma merely hums in reply, and Akaashi finds himself spilling out the entire weird series of events – though to be absolutely accurate, his dreams aren’t real so they can’t be termed as events, but they’ve been haunting him for the past month so they might as well be at this rate. He explains about finding himself in the body of a high school girl with curly hair and a dimple on one cheek, how he’s lived her life enough in the past month that he can map out her days with startling certainty, how he knows it’s not real – it can’t be real, but his dreams glimmer with such vibrancy that they feel real. 

‘Am I going crazy?’ he asks. 

‘I highly doubt it’, Kenma says, tapping his chin in thought. ‘Maybe it’s like one of those exploration video games where you have to take your time to discover its world to figure out the narrative the game is feeding you.’ 

Trust Kenma to relate everything to video games. 

‘That was singularly unhelpful’, Akaashi says dryly as Kenma chuckles quietly in response. 

He is almost afraid to fall asleep again but his eyelids are weighed down by weeks’ worth of sleep deprivation and soon he finds himself again in her body. 

It’s a clear winter’s night. He’s huddled under a thick blanket to shield himself from the bitter cold, watching the embers in the hearth glow yellow and gold. 

‘It’s late. Can’t sleep?’ 

‘Mm’ he replies. ‘Wondering what tomorrow will bring.’ 

‘You’re overthinking again, Keiji’, she chuckles. ‘Tomorrow’s going to be just another day. You’ll wake up back in your warm bed at the crack of dawn for volleyball practice, attend classes in your fancy private school, and play even more volleyball with your beloved Bokuto-san’. 

He rolls his eyes heavenwards at her words and her laugh this time is loud, bright. 

‘You know I only speak the truth. Now, since you need to wake up ridiculously early tomorrow, why don’t I tell you a bedtime story so you can fall asleep.’

‘I’m not a child’, he replies dryly, but does not object when she starts to narrate the tale of a princess exiled from the moon, who is raised by a humble woodcutter and his wife to become a renowned beauty, with five suitors seeking her hand. ‘That’s mean of her’, he mumbles as she describes how the princess rebuffs her suitors by setting them impossible tasks, drifts to sleep as her voice softens as she describes how the princess falls in love with the Emperor, but breaks both their hearts because she knows she must return to the moon someday. He’s fast asleep when she reaches the ending where the princess leaves all her memories on earth with tears in her eyes, gifting the emperor with an elixir of immortality which he burns, because he declares life isn’t worth living without her. 

‘Goodnight Keiji’, she says, her voice shimmering in the still night air.   

For the first time in a long while, Akaashi wakes up at peace. 

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