#they were basically my brothers and they hadn’t ever done anything wrong

[lunaticst4r]

nobody but you

in which, you and neteyam have been best friends since forever, and he always saw you as one of the guys rather than a girl, until it finally makes you snap

childhood.

you and neteyam have been friends ever since childhood, where you were sitting on the tree swing at grace’s school, and one of the boys, Za’ko had pushed you off

when neteyam stepped in and fought with him, just to defend you, as soon as he was done with him, he had helped you up and put you on the swing again, telling you that if you stop crying he’ll take you to see the pretty stars

ever since then, you two were inseparable. you had basically grown up with him, he was your very best friend. sooner or later, you two had reached that age…and you started liking him

more than a friend.

but neteyam had grown up with you, probably seeing you as nothing more than just a mere childhood friend, he saw you as more of a brother than a sister even.

it made a bit of sense since you didn’t really do what most girls did, dress up in pretty tops do your hair and such, not because you hated them or thought it was weird, you just never really had interest in them

but it was so much that you never clicked with the girls, leaving you nobody but neteyam and his guy friends, who saw you in a way you hated.

you finally snapped when you saw him talking to a girl by the forest, you stormed off, ignoring him for the whole day, not even daring to come out of your home, he didn’t know why, maybe just not feeling well?

but he was wrong, because the very next day, he stood with his friends, and heard a whistle from one of them, as he looked to see you there walking to them, his eyes widened

you looked so different?

your hair was down…it was never down, and it’s been braided so nicely, you had a brand new top, one that accentuated your figure so well…a little too well actually, you were walking so slowly, as if trying to look more soft and delicate

and then it just got worse

“hi guys…” you said in such a soft feminine tone, you have never sounded like that. ever.

hi guys? what the hell is hi guys? why are you so quiet? why are you trying to look prettier than you already were? why were you acting so weird?

neteyam hadn’t said a single word, but his friends sure did

“we’re just on our way to school, come on let me walk you” one of them said as he walked with you, away from everyone else, his hand hand on your waist while the others who were still standing there were smirking and talking about you good you looked

as the days passed on, you just got weirder, everyday the guys would take turns walking you to school, some even arguing over it, when you say with neteyam, you’d be so quiet and do things like giggle at anything he says

did you really just giggle…

he hated every minute of it, he hated how all the boys were noticing you, talking to you, what in eywa was going on!

he had to deal with it for a while, until one day he finally lost it, as he was on his way to your home, and saw none other than za’ko walking out.

what was he doing in your home?

neteyam walked in, clearly angry as he stared at you, you smiled at him softly, and he quickly grabbed you, taking you away, into the forest, as he finally let go of you, he just paced around you, furious

“is…something wrong?” you asked in that weird soft voice and neteyam stopped and looked at you

“is something wrong? is something wrong?! really! everything is wrong!” he yells, shaking his head and pacing around for a bit before speaking up again, “come on what are you doing! seriously! what is all this?!”

“what is all what—“

“do not play dumb with me. you know what i’m talking about. what’s with this whole thing! you’re so girly now—and dressing up in…really—weird ways! and every guy is always talking to you! and you act so freaky! your whole life you talked like a person suddenly you talk like you’re some sort of toy or something! and you giggle—oh my eywa the giggles! you never giggle! i didn’t even know what giggle even meant until you started doing it! what is going on!” he yells, pacing around, he was so confused

your soft act quickly drops at his words, “are you—kidding me!” you yell as you glare at him

“what! what! what is it!”

“all these years—all these stupid years! all you see me is as one of the guys! oh here she comes she’s gonna want to hunt and do things guys do with us for sure! oh here she comes she’s like a brother to me! and now—the moment a guy starts giving me the smallest amount of attention you say i act freaky?”

“yes!” he yells and walks towards you, his face inches away from yours, “i do not like it. not in the slightest. i do not like when others talk to what’s mine.” he says in a low low voice, your eyes widen

“wh-what?” you say and he tilts his head

“i think you heard me just right. so i suggest you drop the act, cause i really don’t have the time to fight every man in this village, but i will if i have to.” he says and looks at you, “for you.”

“neteyam…” you say and shake your head, pushing him away as your eyes tear up, “no! no—you cannot act like this with me! you cannot—flirt with other girls then say you like me!”

“i do not flirt with anyone! i have never flirted with anyone because i have you! all those times you see me with girls—it was never me who got to them! and i always brush them off!” he says and sighs

“why can’t you see? why can’t you see that i see you! i always have! there was nobody but you, it’s always been you…without this whole…act.” he says and you look at him, your eyes lighting up

“this whole act has been for you nete…”

“yeah well you can drop it now” he says and caresses the side of your cheek, soon, you two inch closer as your lips finally meet, melting in each others arms, once you finally let go, he looks at you for a second, “now if i see you talking to any of those boys again…it won’t be pretty”

you laugh as you shake your head, “don’t worry i won’t”

a/n: hi guys this is my first write!! i’m sorry it lowkey sucks but i rlly hope you like it!! requests are open!

#neteyam x reader #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam sully #avatar #avatar fanfiction #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam sully x y/n #neteyam sully x you #mooni writes

[alphajocklover]

Hi! How about if a nerd, or maybe a science teacher gets a bush by the jock of the school and he realizes a bit too late that his body is changing. It hits him that the sport teams didn’t have a coach for a while now, but that couldn’t be what’s happening, right?

Ned Stanson had hated highschool. The entire 4 years were absolute hell. He, having been an incredibly nerdy chemistry prodigy who everyone could easily tell wasn’t entirely straight, was constantly harassed by the popular jocks. They’d mock him, push him down, stuff him in his locker and perform incredibly cruel pranks. The jocks at his school weren’t smart or clever, but they were thorough. It was constant. He never felt safe, not for a moment, even outside of school. He didn't relax a moment until he was off to Harvard, and even then he was way too busy getting his double major in chemistry and education to really do anything except study. So why, after the years of torment that Ned had been through, that he still hadn’t gotten over, did he ever think it was a good idea to go back to his old highschool?

Ned put it down to desperation. A college degree, even with a double major, didn’t go as far as it used to, and he had no prior experience. He needed a job, badly, and his old highschool, Luther High, was eager to have him back. He expected it was because it made for good publicity more than anything else. The famous chemistry prodigy who went to Harvard, coming back to his old high school to teach a new generation. That, plus the general prestige of having a Harvard graduate working at your school, would do wonders for the small town highschool. So, drawn in by the surprisingly large salary, Ned forced himself to go back to his old school. He tried to tell himself it wouldn’t be the same, that as a teacher he would have all the power. He wouldn’t have to be afraid of jocks and athletes anymore. He could even help a few nerds the way he had once wished his teachers would help him. Things would be different.

He was right. Things were different. Maybe too different. Ned had found that teaching high school level chemistry was actually quite nice. He had always enjoyed teaching, it was just that he had pictured himself teaching college students, going over more advanced material. But something about going over the basics, introducing young minds to the world of chemistry, was thrilling. He felt amazing. Powerful even. Maybe a little too powerful. He wasn’t doing it consciously, and he felt like crap whenever he noticed it but… he found himself being especially hard on the jocks. They hadn’t done anything to him. He hadn’t even seen any of them bullying nerds like the jocks did back in his day. But some sadistic little part of Ned couldn’t help but pick on them. He’d give them harder questions, offer less help, and he even found himself being downright cruel and mocking them.

He knew he should stop but it felt so… cathartic. It was like he was getting his revenge, after all these years. Maybe that was why the kid he targeted most was Dylan Cooper, the little brother of his worst tormenter growing up. Ned knew it was wrong. A teacher bullying a student was way worse than a student bullying another student, no matter how bad the harassment he went though had been. But every time an opportunity to humiliate the legacy jock came up, he found he just couldn’t resist. After a few weeks of this he knew it couldn’t continue. He asked Dylan to stay after class so that he could explain himself and ask forgiveness. He knew he might be reported to the school board and fired, but… he couldn’t deal with the guilt anymore. As he sat at his desk, Dylan across from him, he tried to find the right words. Dylan spoke before he could, his voice cocky and confident.

“I know what you’re gonna say teach. You’ve been treating me like crap because my big bro used to beat your nerdy ass when you went to school together.” Dylan said with a slight smirk, shocking Ned. How did Dylan know about that? Did his father tell him? Dylan continued, a strange look on his face

“… look, what my bro did to you was shitty. I used to be a bit of a bastard myself till my old football coach set me straight. But you know taking out old grudges on students is fucked up. I can tell you do. You get this guilty look on your face whenever you talk to me.” Dylan said, shocking Ned further. Ned remembered hearing about the football coach. He had been let go shortly before Ned was hired. Everyone said good things about him, and Ned had kind of wished he had met the guy. Finally he spoke, a slight tremor in his voice.

“Dylan, I am… I am so sorry. You’re completely right. I’ve acted completely unprofessionally. If you want… I’ll resign.” Ned offered. Dylan smiled slightly

“No need for that teach. I’ll forgive and forget everything. But you have to do something for me.” Dylan said. He took out what looked to a plastic whistle on a chain “The football team needs a new coach. I’m not asking you to say yes. Just… try on the whistle. See how it feels. Then tell me.” Dylan said. Ned hesitated. Something about this felt wrong… but Dylan was being so forgiving. How could he say no? He took the whistle and slowly slid the chain around his neck. Suddenly the world spun around Ned, his vision blurring. He felt like his entire body was stretching as his mind burned. He ended up blacking out, only for Dylan’s familiar voice to cut through the darkness.

“Coach… Coach… Coach!” Ned sat up with a start, looking around. What… What had happened? He looked over at Dylan, confused.

“What happened kid?” Ned asked, his throat feeling strangely rough. He stood up and stretched his arms, his incredibly large muscles flexing slightly as he tried to recall what had just happened. Dylan replied before he could truly get his bearings.

“We were talking about the team and suddenly got weirdly dizzy. Are you not drinking enough water? You’re the one always telling us to drink a bunch after every workout.” Dylan said with a slight teasing smirk. Ned grinned back at Dylan confidently. Dylan was a cheeky kid, he had been even back when Ned first met him. Ned was an incredibly athletic and popular teen, the classic jock, and had been best friends with Dylan’s older brother all through highschool. Because of that Dylan was almost like a little brother to him too, and getting the chance to teach Dylan was one of the reasons Ned was so eager to accept his new job as gym teacher and football coach. He playfully slapped Dylan on the arm and smirked confidently

“I’m alright kiddo. Just lost my concentration for a moment. You should worry about yourself lil bro. I’m gonna push you hard at practice today.” Ned said with a smirk. As the studly coach and quarterback strut out towards the field, Ned grinned widely. He had loved highschool, and now he got to work here and inspire a whole new generation of manly jock bros. It fucking ruled.

#muscle growth tf #jock tf #jock transformation #jockification #muscle tf #nerd to jock #reality change #retcon #coach tf

[whatisreggieshortfor]

Mistaken Identity

Osamu x gn!reader

You wished you’d paid more attention now. Telling your friend about the handsome boy that you literally ran into over the weekend when you walked through the door of a coffee shop, knocking his drink all over the front of his shirt before insisting on buying him a new one while your face blazed with embarrassment. He had agreed, but only if you joined him at the table outside he was originally heading for to have a drink with him now. He had been the sweetest, a perfect gentleman even after the mishap you’d caused when you met, and you hadn’t looked at the napkin he left on the table until he was long gone, with just the name Miya and a completely unreadable phone number.

Your friend had insisted she could figure out who it was, demanding information, and you knew what he told you, whether or not it was true. He talked about playing volleyball, he talked about food, and the goofy things his brother or teammates had done, but you couldn’t name much else about him. You thought you would know him if you ever saw him again, but it’s not like you were getting your hopes up either. The chances were a long shot.

When your friend found you a week later, swearing she found him, you couldn’t help but feel like it was too easy. She swore she overheard him talking about the incident with other members of the school’s volleyball team, and you couldn’t get her to cancel the meeting if you wanted to. But that was what led you here, sitting across from a face you remembered very well, but you felt like was something was off. He was flirtier than before, and kept bragging about how good and athletic he was, and your eyes kept dragging up to his poor blonde dye job. What caught you off guard the most were his eyes. They were the same color you remembered, but they weren’t the same. This was him but it also wasn’t somehow. And that thought made you feel terrible, because this was the face you’d been thinking about for the last week, wasn’t it? Had you romanticized the first meeting too much? You weren’t even sure anymore.

“Sorry, what position did you play again?”

“‘M the setter. Basically the most important for everythin’ to run smooth.” You smiled and nodded but you could feel your brows furrow in response, hadn’t he said before that setters were too cocky? He chuckled, almost like he was reading that thought in your head, “This might sound stupid, but we haven’t met before, have we?” You bit your lip, but he nodded with a grin, “Naw, it’s okay, I can tell my responses have been off, ya know? Yer friend heard me talkin’ to the guys, but I wasn’t tellin’ them about my weekend.”

“She said-“

“She said I described it the same ya did when ya told her, right?” You nodded, still confused, “I wasn’t tellin’ ‘em my story. I was sorta just makin’ fun of ma brother.”

“You’re the twin…” You muttered, more to yourself than anything, understanding finally coloring your tone.

“Ah, so ‘Samu told ya ‘bout me, huh?” The faux blonde sighed, rolling his eyes, “Prolly mostly stuff about me annoying him, right? Bet he was afraid I’d steal ya.” He winked, sending a smirk your way before he laughed, “Kiddin’, I was gonna tell yer friend she had the wrong guy, but I wanted to see the person that had my brother so smitten.”

“I knew something was different when I saw you.” You confessed, “I just couldn’t put my finger on what.”

“What was yer gut sayin’?”

You bit your lip, was it stupid to be honest? “Your eyes. They’re different than I remembered.” He snorted, the laugh was so similar.

“That’s definitely not what most people notice at first. But ‘Samu was ranting about how you were special.”

You felt the heat creep up your cheeks, even though you weren’t someone that got embarrassed, but hearing him say his brother thought that of you did the job. Suddenly you groaned, “I don’t know if I can ever bring myself to look him in the face again now.”

He just shook his head, “Don’t ya worry too much, ya hear me? He doesn’t even know about us meeting today, so ‘s not like he’ll think ya planned ta meet me instead of him.”

“It’s not that. I-“ you could feel your face grow a little redder as you mumbled, “I couldn’t remember enough about what he looked like to even describe him accurately. So she found you- and I’m sorry, what the hell is your name?”

He just laughed, “‘m Atsumu, and my brother is Osamu.”

“So Osamu is the one I ran into…hypothetically-“

“No hypothetical about it, I’ve already taken care of it.” He smirked, shifting to his feet before waving at something over your head, “Hey! Weirdest thing, this lovely person just started talking about how they met someone that looked just like me. Would ya know about that, ‘Samu?”

You stiffened, a similar voice snapping back, “What are ya runnin’ yer mouth about, piss hair?”

Atsumu just snorted, “If that’s how ya wanna be, I’ll just take this date with Y/N then.”

The footsteps you heard coming suddenly stopped, and you could almost feel his stare at the back of your head and you cursed yourself for not running as soon as you realized you met the wrong brother today. Slowly, almost painstakingly, you started to turn around before Atsumu just groaned, stomping over and dragging Osamu to stand in front of you. “Hi, ‘Samu.” You muttered shyly.

“Y/N. So ya found the better twin, then?” If his voice had sounded smug, you would’ve believed he meant finding him. But it sounded almost defeated, and you realized he thought you liked Atsumu more. Your hand snapped out, grasping his wrist as he went to turn away.

“I did. Last week. But then I couldn’t read his number through his chicken scratch and had to resort to my friend eavesdropping on the boys’ volleyball team, only for the okay twin to set us up right.” You could feel how hot your face was getting, praying that you weren’t making a mistake, “I remembered him talking about the food he wanted to make like a spark was burning inside him, I remembered him talking about the stunts his brother pulled with a fond exasperation, and I remembered the way his eyes showed their interest when he asked me questions no matter boring my answers were. But as much as I remembered, I couldn’t for the life of me picture his hair color, or his height, or typical things someone remembers about a person because I didn’t care about any of it. What made him the better twin was his personality, and his humor, and his conviction of what he wants in life. And I really, really hope he feels the same way I do so I’m not making a complete embarrassment of myself right now.” You shifted your eyes to stare at your feet, waiting for a response that didn’t seem like it was coming.

“Osamu, aren’t you gonna-“

“Beat it, Tsumu.”

“Excuse me!?” The setter squawked, “After what I did for ya, yer just gonna-“

“Me and Y/N have a date we need to do,” your head snapped up, seeing that fond look back in his eyes, “So head home. I left dinner in the fridge for ya.”

Atsumu grinned, saluting the two of you before making his way down the sidewalk. You smiled shyly at the grey haired brother, “You made him dinner?”

“Not exactly.” Osamu shrugged, “But I made food earlier, and I don’t care too much about him eatin’ it if it means I can stay here with ya.”

“I would really like it if you stayed, ‘Samu.” You chuckled at the flush that hit his cheeks when you said his name, “But maybe when you leave me this time you could put your number into my actual phone? I haven’t learned how to decode your handwriting yet.”

He groaned, but he was smiling, and maybe the mistaken identity wasn’t so bad if it led you this.

Masterlist

#haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu osamu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x female reader #osamu miya #osamu x reader #atsumu miya

[melonsfantasyworld]

Day 4: Favorite Trope

For @sjmromanceweek, my favorite trope is grump x sunshine, but the grump remains a grump, just happier with their sunshine

Cassian walks in on grumpy Az and sunshine Gwyn making bracelets together in the house library. Gwyn is more than happy to help Cassian make a bracelet, Azriel is less than happy about his brother's presence. You can read "Someone's Going to Die...Of Fun!" here on A03, or below!

Word Count: 1.4 k

Rating: For Everyone

When Cassian walked into the library, the last thing he expected to see was his best friend and his mate’s best friend making jewelry. Then again, considering how long Azriel had been pining after Gwyn, he should have expected his friend to make a move somehow. This is just not the route he thought Azriel would go.

“What’s going on here?” Cassian asks from his spot at the door, a smirk growing on his face. It’s a testament to how much Azriel liked Gwyn and how distracted she makes him that not even the shadows alerted him of Cassian’s presence. Azriel’s head whips towards the door, his eyes already narrowed with murderous intent. If Cassian hadn’t known the male for so long, he’d cower under that gaze. But he’s become immune to Azriel’s off-putting nature, and instead relishes by how caught off guard his friend looks.

“We’re making bracelets!” Gwyn exclaims. She holds up her braids of cobalt blue, black, and gold to show Cassian. He vaguely remembers Nesta coming back from one of her girls nights with something similar, though hers was far less perfect that the one Gwyn is holding up. Cassian would laugh, except the scariest people in his life and arguably in Prythian, his mate and Azriel, had each joined Gwyn to make their own bracelet. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to give it a try.

“Is it hard?” Cassian asks, peering eagerly over the couch blocking his view of the low table they were sitting in front of to make their bracelets. He can’t help but notice how close they are, sitting next to each other with their knees almost touching. Azriel scowls when he notices Cassian noticing.

“Immensely.” Azriel replies, his tone indicating he was not at all pleased that Cassian had decided to join them rather than leave.

“It just takes some practice. Join us, Cassian! There’s plenty of strings and beads.” Gwyn gestures to the meticulously organized bracelet making supplies spread out on the table. Cassian eagerly makes his way around and sits across from them. He decides to ignore Azriel, whose giving him a death glare, and focus on Gwyn’s bright teal eyes and gentle smile.

“First thing you do is pick out your strings. Typically, I have a reason or recipient in mind when I make my bracelets, so I pick my colors accordingly. Then you choose the number of charms you want and the specific designs.” Cassian nods along dutifully to Gwyn’s instructions, looking at the different elements that she indicates with sweeping gestures.

“When you get better at making a simple braided bracelet, I can show you how different braids that can make the bracelet thicker and more intricate. But we’ll stick with the basics tonight.”

“Good luck.” Azriel mutters, staring disdainfully at his own bracelet. Cassian doesn’t see what’s wrong with his work until he looks a few centimeters over to find lumps of strands that were obviously discarded.

“I’m sure it’s not hard.” Cassian says. Azriel scowls, while Gwyn smiles indulgingly.

“Of course not. If you’ve ever braided hair before, it’s a lot like that only the strands are thinner.” Gwyn tries to appeal to a skill Cassian guessed she thought he might have due to his long hair, but he realizes his mistake. He’s never been able to intricately braid his hair, giving up after many failed attempts hundreds of years ago. He doesn’t even bother trying anymore, throwing his hair back with a leather strap and calling it a day. Nesta has done braids for him before, but he was quickly banned from doing anything more than petting and brushing her hair after creating a big and painful knot when he tried to nicely tie it back.

“Ok, so pick your strings.” Cassian takes time deliberating which colors he wants. He ultimately settles on red, gold, and grey. Gwyn nods at his choice while Azriel has gone back to braiding his bracelet.

“Now lay them out like this, yes, that’s good! We’ll start with crossing the red strand over the gold, good. Then the grey strand over the red, yes, that’s it. Then you just keep going until it’s the length you want it to be. I recommend going to the end of the strands then tying a knot. That way, no matter who's wearing the bracelet, it can be tied to fit anyone’s wrist.”

Cassian nods and follows Gwyn’s instructions. She hums a little while she works, and he notices that Azriel’s shadows are swaying lightly to her tune. Every now and then a shadow swoops over to inspect her work, dancing around her fingers. Gwyn always grins at them and talks to them. Cassian looks over at Azriel surprised, but the Shadowsinger is too engrossed with Gwyn to notice.

He starts concentrating on his own work more when he notices the braid not turning out straight and neat like Gwyn’s, but crooked and lumpy. The strands are starting to look a lot like Azriel’s failed attempts. Not wanting to give up, Cassian tries to unbraid and re-braid the strands, but somehow is still ends up looking bad. He tunes out Gwyn and Azriel’s conversation, giving his sole focus to the task at hand, but still not succeeding. He sighs in disappointment.

“It’s ok, Cas. It just takes some practice. Nesta was absolutely terrible at it the first few times we made bracelets together. Almost stormed off once because of it, but eventually she got the hang of it. You will too.” Gwyn reassures him. Cassian appreciates her efforts, but it’s Azriel’s smug face that brings out the competitiveness inside of him, making him want to try again. He picks out new strands of the same colors, discarding the lumpy mess of his first bracelet attempt.

“Azriel, why don’t you give Cassian your bracelet to look at so he can see what you did up close?” Gwyn suggests. Cassian half expects Azriel to argue but the Shadowsinger hands over the bracelet immediately, even if he doesn’t look pleased by it.

”If you fuck up my braids I’ll feed you to the monsters in the hewn city.” Azriel threatens Cassian.

”Az, that’s a great idea! We should make bracelets for them too!” Gwyn exclaims, grabbing more strands to start braiding. Azriel also grabs more strands, staring Cassian down the entire time. Looking at the bracelet, it’s obvious who it’s being made for with it’s white, teal, and gold design. Cassian takes great care to not mess up the bracelet, but only because he knows that Azriel might genuinely hurt him if he messes up his friend’s gift for Gwyn.

Cassian spends over an hour with them, trying to make his own bracelet. He’s growing pile of failed attempts is nearly as large as Azriel’s, and he’s been at it for less time. The Illyrian does grow frustrated, but he’s able to mitigate his emotions by observing the pair in front of him. Azriel’s dark nature doesn’t necessarily change with Gwyn, but he’s different. He still makes his snide remarks, is still just as grumpy with Cassian, but there’s a lightness to him now.

The more Cassian thinks about it, the more he realizes that Azriel makes an effort to like what Gwyn likes, to be engaged with her. After all, she so effortlessly does so with him by asking about his shadows, his hobbies, his life. Unlike anyone else who had shown an interest an Azriel, he doesn’t shut Gwyn down. Instead he indulges her, letting his softer side show. Cassian realizes that they’re a perfect balance, Azriel the dark and broody while Gwyn is light and bubbly. They fit in an unexpected but obvious way like how the sun and moon look together. Gwyn doesn’t balk at Azriel’s demeanor, and Azriel doesn’t shy away from Gwyn’s light.

By the end of their night, Cassian has a semblance of a bracelet, with one singular dagger charm. He smiles triumphantly, knowing that even if it isn’t the most perfect bracelet, it was still something he created with his own two hands. Gwyn smiles proudly at him while Azriel dials back his glower.

“Do you want me to tie that on your wrist?” Gwyn asks. Cassian is half tempted to say yes solely because of the scandalized look on Azriel’s face at the prospect of Gwyn touching Cassian, but he refrains. Instead, he smiles broadly before picking himself up and walking towards the door.

“It’s a gift, actually. You two have a good night and stay out of trouble!” Cassian leaves before Azriel can say anything snarky back to him. Back in his suite with his mate, Cassian presents the bracelet to Nesta who eyes it critically, then demands he put it on her. He obliges happily, feeling giddy that he was able to make something for his mate.

He hopes that Azriel can find the same sort of happiness with Gwyn. Though by the looks of it, his friend already had.

#gwynriel #cassian #sjmromanceweek2023

[kellanved-ammanas]

TF2 Drabbles: Engie/Scout - New Year's Party

Summary: could i request engiescout 🥺 maybe the mercs are having a new years party and scout is bummed out that hes going into new years away from his ma and fam and engie helps to cheer him up :3

[A/N] Happy New Year's! Here's to hoping 2024 treats us well.

~

New Year’s wasn’t a holiday that Scout had ever given much weight to before. So soon after Christmas, one of the biggest holidays, it was had to think of it as important. Thus he hadn’t complained about the order to return to base before it instead of after it as they’d done in previous years. Celebrating it with the team had seemed like a perfectly fine substitute at the time. Now that he was here though, it didn’t feel like a good substitute at all.

Normally New Years was the last day he got to spend with Ma and the rest of his family before heading back to work until he could see them again on Thanksgiving. So instead of drinking, he always went around to make sure he chatted with everyone at least a little bit or pulled a prank here or there when an opportunity presented itself for people to remember him by. Technically he could still do that but he was gonna see these guys basically every day until Thanksgiving instead. Which was great, hanging out and working with these fools were a large part of why he loved his job. But he liked hanging out with his family too. He didn’t get a choice though so he just had to suck it up.

Unfortunately having thought so hard about it that he’d figured out why he felt more down than he usually did during team parties didn’t help him feel any better. If anything it made him feel worse because now he was actively aware of missing his family instead of just vaguely dissatisfied. Ugh, this is why he usually ran from his emotions instead of trying to understand them.

Maybe he should just drink himself stupid until he forgot about it. Demo had spiked the punch with some pretty heavy alcohol so it wouldn’t be hard. He’d miss the stroke of midnight but did it even matter? Yeah, it was the point of the holiday and all but…

“Hey bud.”

He flinched a little, his gaze snapping up. So wrapped up in his thoughts he hadn’t noticed Engie approaching. As always he looked odd without his hardhat and goggles, rare was the days he didn’t wear them. Scout had somehow convinced him into completely taking off working on stuff for the rest of today to attend the team New Year’s party instead so he’d taken them off.

Scout quickly shook off his surprise, hopefully before Engie noticed it. “Hey pal.”

“You doing all right?”

“What? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Don’t know but you’re sitting over here by yourself and that ain’t like you so I figured maybe something was wrong.”

“So you decided to come over here and make sure I’m okay or something?”

“Yep.”

If it were anyone else Scout would’ve brushed them off. But Engie had always been the least judgmental person on the team. Also the least likely to spread personal stuff. Which wasn’t to say he was judgment free or never spread anything, but when it came to stuff told directly to him in confidence, he was good about keeping to himself and not being outwardly harsh about whatever he thought of it. And so Scout had always liked talking to him, sometimes it even made him feel better.

“I’m just a bit homesick. Which like yeah, yeah, I know we were just allowed to go home for Christmas but normally we don’t gotta come back until tomorrow. So normally I’m at the New Year’s party my Ma hosts with however many of my brothers, their spouses and kids stick around for it. It’s like weird to be here instead, you know?”

“Hmm… can’t say I really know but I understand the sentiment, I think. You didn’t get to spend as much time with your folks as you usually do and didn’t get to give them the kinda goodbye you usually do either. So makes sense your feeling a bit off. Now, I ain’t really sure how to help with that kinda thing but uh… you want company? Maybe we could play some cards or something.”

Before he’d come over Scout wouldn’t have thought company would be enjoyable. Now that he was here though and offering to help even though admitting he wasn’t sure how to, it seemed the exact perfect thing. So… “Yeah, sure, company sounds great. Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

#my writing #tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 drabbles #scout #engineer #engiescout

[slightlyaboveaverageiq]

The Whisperer: Part 3 (Wally Clark Fic)

There was no loud slam of the bedroom door thank Jesus, in fact the only sign that someone had entered her room was the cool cloth that was pressed on what was visible of her head from under the covers. She squinted one eye open and immediately wished she hadn’t. For one reason even though she had pulled the blackout curtains before wrapping herself into a burrito there was still some sunlight streaming though. Not a lot but enough to make her stomach turn. The second reason being the worried look in her brothers eyes coupled with the prominent frown and eye bags.

“How many this time?” His voice was barely above a whisper but it still felt like he was stabbing her in the head with a million tiny needles and she groaned at the pain wishing he would wait until she wasn’t contemplating killing herself before asking.

“Well there were seven before I even made it to my locker. Then I met Dawn and she introduced me to 3 more.” My voice was barely above a whisper but I would have to be both blind and deaf to miss the way my brothers eyebrows sky rocketed when I basically confirmed I willingly went and met with more spirits.

“You intentionally went with this spirit to go and meet more? You normally run the opposite direction.” I sighed and threw my blankets off my body and pushed myself up. Clearly he wasn’t going anywhere until he had, what he deem, sufficient answers.

“It was part of our deal for her to fuck off. I told her I would do one thing for her and she took me to meet Jock, Cunt Waffle, and Puppy. Cunt Waffle is convinced I’m dead and just in denial, Jock and Puppy don’t know what to think, and I think Dawn knew exactly what was going on but was playing stupid.” He laughed at cunt waffle but then tried to act like an adult and immediately his eyes turned scornful and I made a mental note not to call Rhonda a cunt waffle in front of him.

“You know you could just tell them what’s going on instead of just trying to convince them without any background.” Is this man really wanting me to track them down all over again after I just gave him that long ass speech and the fact that I’m currently dying and wishing he would just fucking leave so I could sleep for the next 36 hours in peace?

“so I tell you I do this so they will leave me alone. And your solution is for me to willingly go out of my way to talk to them so they have another reason to continue the conversation?” I raised my eyebrow at him and he stood hastily and I could tell that my tone had rubbed him the wrong way. Oh well that’s what he gets for saying something so incomprehensibly stupid.

“They’re going to keep coming back anyway Morrigan because you’re a mystery. Might as well just tell them and then they won’t have a reason to come back. Just a little food for thought.” I knew he was right but I wasn’t about to admit that with how I just acted. I was embarrassed and he knew it but was going to make me admit he was right. I huffed and turned my back to him signaling I was done with this conversation.

“Just let me sleep Connor, I don’t feel good and j get bitchy when I don’t feel good. I don’t want to argue I just want to sleep.” That seemed to melt his cold demeanor just a little bit because he kissed the top of my head before tucking my blankets tighter around me so the light wouldn’t get in. I gave a small him in appreciation and j felt his weight lift off my bad.

“Just think about what I said Mo, at least think about telling Dawn. You say you don’t like them but it sounds like that girl has wiggled her way in there.” He shut my door quietly and I’m left alone with my thoughts. He’s right Dawn has t really done anything to incur my wrath, I just wanted to shut her down before she even tried. Not even cunt waffle, yes she was rude but she also thought I was a ghost in denial. She was telling me what she thought I needed to hear. Was I ever going to admit that though? Absolutely not. As friendly and not demonic soul sucking as these spirits seemed to be I did not need them making me feel shitty every day. Then again an occasional conversation wouldn’t hurt, and I guess I should probably tell Dawn she can have her locker seat back. It is kinda fucked up that’s where she had been living since she died and I told her to fuck off.

All of that could wait until Monday though, right now I needed to sleep because on a level of 1 to 10 my migraine was at bitch please fucking kill me.

#wally clark #rhonda #school spirits #fanfic

[sorry-apsalar]

Frender Drabbles : Better

anything hurt/comfort or sickfics.

~

Since waking from cryo-sleep Fry had given little thought to his former life. There had been too much happening and a lot of it had been exciting and fun. The few times he had thought about it he’d assumed no one had missed him much and if anything had been relieved not to have to deal with him being around anymore. Turns out he’d been wrong.

In hindsight, the whole Yancy trying to steal his name thing was ridiculous. Yancy had always been better than him at everything so why would he want to steal Fry’s name so bad he did so as soon as Fry went missing? It just didn’t make sense and yet it had seemed more plausible than the truth. Apparently he’d missed Fry so much he’d named his son after him, how wild was that? And that son had gone on to become a…

The couch dipped as Bender sat down next to him. “You’ve been quiet since we got back home. It’s starting to annoy me.” Maybe his annoyance was rooted in Fry not paying attention to him but regardless he cared enough to notice and bring it up. Something that many of Fry’s former friends had never done much of.

“I’m just thinking.”

“Then stop thinking so much. Thinking too much has never done anything good for anyone as far as I know.”

Fry couldn’t argue with that but still since they were already talking about it… “I never got to meet my nephew. Didn’t even know I was going to have a nephew, let alone one named after me.”

“Oh, you’re still upset about that, huh? You got to see his skeleton though, that’s basically the same as meeting him, right?”

Fry shrugged. “I guess it’s better than nothing.” Even if it probably would’ve been better if they hadn’t robbed his grave and had just gone to visit it like normal people instead. “I did meet my sister-in-law though, I think. Now that I think about it, they might’ve broke up after I went into cryo-sleep and he might’ve married someone else. But even if the one I met was her… I don’t remember her name or even really what she looked like. And it doesn’t even matter she’s dead and so is everyone I ever knew or met or even just saw walking around back then.”

“You only just now figured that out?”

“No. It just now sunk in is all. It’s uh, kind of a lot to realize. And like, my brother named his son after me. He probably wouldn’t have if I’d still been around at the time but… that’s still a lot too.”

“I swear, you meatbags are too emotional for your own good. Look at the bright side though even if you just found out your brother missed you enough to name his spawn after you, you’re still happier here, right? I’m sure he and whoever else cared about you would’ve wanted that for you or whatever, right?”

“Yeah, I guess so, maybe.”

“Good because things are better this way and you can’t change it anyway.”

‘Better’ was probably a relative term but Fry was certainly happier. And well… even if he could change it, he didn’t feel like he would want to. Perhaps he’d leave a note explaining the situation so no one would worry or think something bad had happened to him but other than that how cool the future was and how awesome all his new friends were outweighed his regrets. So, for him, this was better.

Which didn’t mean he couldn’t or shouldn’t mourn his past loved ones but dwelling on his regrets kind of sucked and accomplished nothing. So instead… “You want to play some video games for a bit before the new episode of All My Circuits comes on tonight?”

“Finally you’re over it. But yeah, let’s do it. I got nothing better to do.”

#my writing #futurama #frender #philip j. fry #bender bending rodriguez #frender drabbles

[reddapologist]

Differences - Hope & Yolara

CNs:

(mentioned) discrimination and prejudice, death of a parent, religion

(very basic context: Yolara, stuck in an enormous dungeon crawl, made a wish to bring her long dead mother back which of course didn't go the way she expected. This is them talking things out during an evening watch.)

It took a while until the camp grew quiet enough for Yolara to bring herself to speak.

“Mum? Do you think we can talk like this?” Her voice was faint, she felt like the volume did not matter much as long as she could get the words out, and she did not want the others to hear too much. She had sensed her mother’s presence close to the front of her mind ever since Sam had restored it a few hours ago. From then on the two of them had both been conscious, sometimes it hadn’t been clear to Yolara whether she or Hope was the one telling their arm to swing the hammer. Sharing a body was still strange to both of them, that was part of what she wanted to talk about.

Hope did not reply directly, but there was an understanding that the words had been heard. So Yolara continued.

“This isn’t what I had in mind when I wished for you to come back, you know… It’s weird. And I try to tell you things when you’re in charge of the body, but I never know if you can hear me…”

“I can,” Hope’s voice cut off her daughter’s, “most of it, at least. But this is much clearer.”

“Alright.” Yolara straightened her back a little.”Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re here. Anything to feel a little less alone down here.”

A shy smile spread over their face. “I was with you as often as I could ever since… well.”

“Since you died?” Yolara cut in, “Yeah, great job on that.”

“There were many people who needed my help, just as in life.” Hope said, her daughter’s words clearly having hit their mark. “I was there in your fights,and anytime you called for me, I listened. I’m sorry you couldn’t feel me there. And I couldn’t follow you down here, into Orcus’ domain.”

Yolara scoffed. “I’m glad you had the time to help out strangers while Gwen and I dealt with the hole you left.”

“I didn’t want to leave you, Yolla. I wish I hadn’t, and I am sorry, but what could I have done? I knew you two could pull through, and wallowing in guilt wouldn’t have helped anyone.”

“So every time you said you’d always have my back,” Yolara said, struggling to keep her voice down, “and that nothing could happen to us as long as you were there… What did you expect to happen once you weren’t?”

“I taught you to look after yourself, too.”

“You taught me that we are alone. That no matter how much good we do, people will still hate us and leave us for dead if they get the chance. That’s what those fuckers did to you, after all. There’s a brother I barely remember who punched some asshole for me when I was four and then disappeared. Even the people who’d praise your work in the community always talked about ‘you people’ and called you ‘one of the good ones.’ You were an exception to them, and I was a disappointment because I didn’t want to hide how much those things hurt.

And then you went out and got yourself killed, I didn’t even know how until you told the others here yesterday. Gwen still doesn’t. We couldn’t take care of the orphanage without you, stopped taking in new children, and the old ones all left or died within a year or so. So that was all the real friends I had, gone. The respect you had earned didn’t transfer to us for a lot of people. I couldn’t protect anyone in your stead, I was twelve! And from the people who did bother talking to us after that, all I ever heard was how great you were. I was always just your kid, an excuse for people to tell me what you did for them. Never my own person. That is why I left, to have people look at me and not see your absence.”

There was a long pause. Any thought of not waking the others had left Yolara’s mind while she was spilling her guts, and now, realising how loud she had gotten, she glanced over their camp hoping desperately that her companions slept deeper than her.

Hope, in turn, took her time to process what had been said. When finally, a question formed in her mind, she could not keep her daughter from hearing it.

“Why did you bring me back, then?”

Yolara laughed; the kind of tired, desperate laugh of someone longing for a simple answer they could give. “I missed you. I guess on some level I did feel your presence, and noticed that you couldn’t reach me down here. I lost my magic the first time I died here, that was a clue. I felt more alone than ever before. With every fight I felt more out of my depth. There was that voice in my head, sounding like all the people who wouldn’t shut up about your heroics, that told me you would handle this so much better. You’d be out of here by now, with Orcus dead. And the Efreeti bottle was right there, one time when we were resting it all became too much, so I let him out and asked if he could bring you back. I guess I wasn’t precise enough with my wish…”

For the first time since the conversation started, Hope took full control of the body, careful not to push Yolara out too harshly, so that she still felt everything firsthand. Fingers gently tapped their shoulders, as Hope pulled them into the closest thing to an embrace one body was capable of. “Oh, lille venn…” she whispered. “I felt like that too when I was your age. Alone. Overwhelmed. Those people exaggerate quite a bit. I can’t get through this place unaffected, I don’t think anyone can. Surely not alone.”

Yolara did not try to find words, just took in what little warmth Hope could give her. They stayed like this for a long while, and she felt reminded of something she could not place. A moment of solace similar to this one, far away, and faded.

Eventually Hope broke the silence again. “I know this, us sharing a body, isn’t exactly what you wanted. I wouldn’t have picked it either had it been up to me. Still, I’m glad I can talk to you again. Gods, I worry for you. I know what you’ve been through, and I wish I could have done more for you. Half the things you’ve done I don’t understand in the slightest. You take after Gwen more than you might think, books and alchemy and making plans were never my thing. I’m so proud of who you’ve become.”

“I barely know who that is.” Yolara whispered. “Too many people wanted me to be you. And now… I don’t know where you end and I begin.” Neither of them knew whose tear it was that ran down their face. Hope took a deep breath for the both of them. “We’ll figure it out together. Sharing, switching, all that. I can leave the reins to you for the most part, if you want. Should you need me to take them for a while, I’ll be there.”

“What if someone wants to talk to you specifically?”

“Then you decide if you want to let me do that. If the answer is no, that is completely fine.”

Yolara gently untangled their limbs, and laid down flat on the cold cavern floor. “That sounds good.” She said, “But I also want us to not have secrets if we’re stuck like this.”

Hope agreed, but knew the question that was coming, so much that Yolara rushed to get it out before she could change the subject.

“What exactly happened with you and Tiamat?”

“Yolla, there’s a reason I never talked about that.” Had Yolara not been able to feel Hope’s shame in her heart, her voice would have shown it just as well.

“You didn’t tell Gwen either, did you? We both heard so much about your deeds, but you never mentioned whatever that shit was?”

“I didn’t want to trouble fae. Or you.” The words were even quieter than before. “So many of the things Gwen went through even before we met were my fault. I worried fae couldn’t look at me the same if fae knew. And I didn’t want you to have to keep my secrets.”

They both kept silent for a moment, as Yolara tried to piece the crumbs together. Something to do with Tiamat that caused great trouble to Gwen… “Were you a cultist?”

“What?” Hope’s befuddlement made their shared head shake. “No, dear, no.” A heavy sigh passed their lips, and Yolara mentally took a step back, feeling the weight of the coming words. “A few years before you were born, I lived in a frontier town across the sea, working at the temple, and occasionally did a few jobs with the local adventurer’s guild. I was already following Bahamut when I got there, and tried to help in his name as best I could. On one of our trips, we discovered a cult making efforts to summon Tiamat back into the material plane. Three other fighters and I made it our mission to stop them. Eilgwyn, a fellow priestess and bard. Tyke, who drew power from a being of the lower planes. And Clust, a druid I never quite got to know. But the cultists were closer than we thought. We found out we could not prevent their ritual, but might be able to vanquish the Scaled Tyrant while she was still weak from her revival.

The night before we would head into battle, Bahamut spoke to me. He told me he had faith in me, said he was glad it was me fighting in his name. And he told me how the last revival of the Scaled Tyrant had happened. How chromatic and metallic dragons alike had fallen to her corruption. How even he, the purest of them all, had lost himself, and caused just as much destruction as his rival. So he asked me to…”

Hope paused, and Yolara felt a tear running down the face they now shared, as well as a lump in their throat. Then, for the first time since they had gotten this new, malleable body, it shifted to a form that was not Yolara or Hope, but that of and old human man, who, in a voice that told of aeons spent dreading this request, said:

“Do not let this come to pass again. Should she get the better of me this time, I trust you to strike me down. Promise me that, Hope Osahdottir.”

As the image of the old man faded, pale brown skin turning red, Yolara understood.

“You had to kill your own god.”

Hope nodded. “We were not fast enough. I did not see who dealt the final blow on Tiamat, because moments before that the Platinum Dragon’s scales turned dull grey, and as she died he flew into a rage even greater than hers. I honoured my promise, and I stopped him from hurting anyone. I lost most of my magic, as it had come from him. I couldn’t even save Clust from his injuries then. The same happened to every other priest of his, including Gwen. Until I died, not a day passed where I didn’t feel the weight of that battle.”

"Shit." was the only thing Yolara could say as a million pieces clicked into place in her mind. Sam's comments, Hope's anger at hearing the Tyrant's name; and before all this, her fixation on Bahamut's ideals, as well as the sombre tone whenever she talked about him, the fact that she settled down and stopped going on grand adventures so soon…

Once more, neither of them knew whose tears began to flow, though both had reason to claim them.

"I get it." Yolara said, "He left the same void as you."

#writing #original character #english #oc tober prompts #hope osahdottir #yolara aranore #gwen aranore #Rappan Athuk #d&d oc

[astral-catastrophe]

why the hell do i miss the friendship of someone who was a bitch to me?

and why do i miss the friendship of people who might not have cared?

#i realized just a moment ago that i miss our old inside jokes #i miss getting excited when we talked #i miss being friends with all three of them #because she was my old best friend #and they were both like brothers #they were basically my brothers and they hadn’t ever done anything wrong #but she moved away #and i realized it was good for me #and then she came back and things only got worse #im not mad at anyone here don’t worry #it’s just that bitch again #now im not friends with any of them anymore #childhood best friend (derogatory ) #jays being dumb again

[halloweenbitch2764]

I can request a scenario in which the reader is rescued by the police or by someone who cares about her and thinks she is saving from the Slachers (Brahms, Jason, Michael, Vincent, Bo and another killer of her choice).

What would happen next, would the Slachers go after their reader and bring them home with them? Would the Slachers cause a massacre with people who cross your path, perhaps?

((Note: S / O is not a victim or hostage of the Slashers, but his girlfriend)).

Absolutely! Thank you for the request and patience! I think family/friends will work better in these situations so I hope you don't mind! Also I'm gonna skip Michael because I can't come up with anything for him and the other scenarios are super long. I hope it makes up for it <3

TW: Violence

F/N: Friends Name

Brahms Heelshire

It had definitely taken some getting used to when it came to living with Brahms

Between the HUGE mansion and the man himself

But you adapted into the role and settled in relatively well

However, you dropped contact with outside people quite suddenly

The cell reception had became increasingly worse and the landline phone had finally given out

When you tried to leave Brahms would insist on you staying

Which left your brother quite worried (pretend if you don't have one)

After multiple failed call attempts he decided to visit the address you had given him after accepting the job

He continued to try and call once he landed

Sure he'd be annoyed if you answered but would be happy you even did

However you didn't

So he made his way out to the mansion and parked in front of you

You were busy doing some cleaning and hadn't heard the car door slam shut

Brahms did though

A knock rang from the front door and you answered it, seeing your brother in front of you

You were confused and questioned why he was there

"You haven't been answering ANY of my calls. What the hell happened?" He seemed more concerned than angry

You knew Brahms would have heard him by now and one major rule was "no visitors"

Your stomach dropped

"Oh, um. The cell reception here is garbage and I haven't had time to get a new landline." You partially lied

"Well I'm glad you're safe. Mom wanted me to stay for a few days if that would be alright. I hate to invite myself but you know how mom is."

Your stomach sank further

"U-Uh actually, I'm not allowed to have visitors stay. Really not supposed to have anyone stay at all."

He raised his eyebrow. "Aren't you just watching some doll? Come on, Y/N you gotta be lonely. This place seems huge."

"Just go back home and tell mom I'm fine. I'm gonna be here till my job is done. Okay?" You wanted to make him leave without worrying him or him seeing Brahms

However, you noticed his eyes shift behind you and then widen

Oh fuck

"Go. Home." You told him but he didn't have to be told twice, already halfway to his car

You turned around to see Brahms behind you and you figured his size was enough to scare your brother

You just hoped he wouldn't tell your mom what really happened

Jason Voorhees

You had been at Camp Crystal Lake with Jason for quite a bit before anyone came to see if you were there

Cell reception was basically nonexistent so you hadn't had contact with the world since you had decided to stay with Jason

Your sister (pretend if you don't have one) remembered how much you loved Crystal Lake though and wondered if maybe you had ran away to the abandoned and dilapidated cabins

You were just taking a walk when your heard a female voice screaming your name

You instantly knew who's voice it was

You hoped Jason hadn't heard, scared of what he would do to her for trespassing

You ran towards the voice and you thought your sister was going to faint when she saw you coming towards her

"Y/N?" She almost didn't seem to believe you were right in front of her

"Hey dork, what's up?" You asked, trying to seem casual

"What's up?" She seemed stunned and then angry. "What do you mean 'what's up'?! You ran away and then just act as if nothing happened?!"

"Hey keep it down. Look, I'm sorry. I just was tired of everything and decided to see if I could stick it out here by myself for a while. I'm trying to renovate an old cabin to make a sort of house and I don't want ANYONE knowing where I am." The whole story was pretty much a lie. "I was just so overwhelmed with everything I needed a getaway. Don't tell anyone where I am. Please?"

She was silent as she processed everything. "What about Jason? Isn't he supposed to kill anyone who lives here or roams here?" She was almost positive the whole story of Jason wasn't real but she was still curious

"Well I mean. I'm still intact so I'm gonna say he doesn't exist." You lied.

She nodded a bit. "I've just been so worried about you. Just...try and let me know you're okay ever so often. Alright?"

You nodded and she headed back for her car

Once she was out of sight you started to head back to the cabin only to bump into Jason's chest

You jumped slightly in surprise, not having heard him sneak up and explained that she was your sister

He nodded before bringing you back to the cabin

Vincent Sinclair

You were sitting silently in the woods with Vincent as a victim made their way into the small town, pulling into the gas station

You were fairly far away and hidden by the foliage but you recognized who stepped out of the car

He had papers in his hand with large red letters spelling "MISSING" on the top and your face under it

It was your friend

Well he thought of himself as your friend

You didn't mind him but he would act obsessive towards you, wanting to hang out as much as possible and even interjecting himself into conversations you were having

You knew he had good intentions but couldn't help but feel annoyed just by his presence

He walked into the gas station, likely to ask about you

You knew what would happen

Vincent seemed to notice how closely you looked at the guy

It was different from past victims

"Who's that?" He signed

"An old...friend of mine. Well, he thought we were friends. He got on my nerves." You signed back

Vincent nodded a bit as you continued, "He had a thing for me I think. He was obsessed to say the least."

Jealousy started to come over him at what you said even though he knew you didn't return the feelings

He'd make sure he wasn't made into a wax figure

Just tortured and then disposed of

Bo Sinclair

You leaned against the gas station counter as Bo worked in the garage as per usual

You were fairly sure it would just be another normal day

Nobody coming to bother you

However a car pulled up and parked by a gas pump, shutting off as someone stepped out

No

No it couldn't be

Your old friend

You hadn't spoken to her in years

She still looked the same

You didn't know if you hoped she wouldn't recognize you or that she would

She pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head as she pushed the door opened but stopped in her tracks as her eyes scanned your face

"Y/N?"

You reluctantly nodded and stood up, walking out from behind the counter

Tears welled up in her eyes as she pulled you into a hug to which you returned

"I-I can't believe this. We all thought you were dead!" Emotions swirled rapidly through her voice. Pain, excitement, nostalgia

"What?" You asked, confused

"I've missed you so much." She held you by your shoulders. "I didn't even mean to come here. I made a wrong turn and then was gonna come ask for directions."

Well that sounded oddly familiar

"Well I'm glad to see you. I'm alright. Just uh, decided to live here. I like how secluded it is." She turned to look at the side door to the garage as it was pushed open and Bo entered the room.

"Well hello there." He said in his normal charming accent, greeting your friend and seeing her as a victim. "Who might you be?"

"Oh this is F/N, she's been friends with me since we were in school."

He nodded a bit and she raised her eyebrow. "Well who's this Y/N?" She smirked

"This is Bo. He's my boyfriend. He works in the mechanics shop." You told her

She nodded and smiled.

"Well have a look around if you want any snacks. I gotta help Bo with something in the garage." You lied, tugging him into the garage and shutting the door behind you

"Do NOT hurt her." You sternly said and he raised his eyebrow

"I can't risk her telling people about this town." He responded.

"She doesn't even know what this town is. I think she missed the sign." You told him and he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose

"She could be lying."

You shook your head. "She won't tell anyone."

You walked back out and smiled at her, taking her money to pay for her snack

"You didn't see me okay?" She raised her eyebrow

"Some things happened that I don't want to get into right now but I can't go back for a while. Just let them think I'm dead and move on. Okay?" She nodded after a moment

"Have a safe trip." You said sweetly, giving her one last hug before she left

#brahms x reader #brahms heelshire #jason voorhees x reader #jason voorhees #the boy #friday the 13th #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #house of wax (2005) #slasher fucker

[belphies-cuhm-sluht]

Hello! I saw your asks open and i wanted to request some angst headcanons with dad!Asmo. I just read Luci's and oh man that sure hurt my heart, you write angst so well!

Unwanted (Dad!Asmo x F!Reader) ANGST

A/N : Mammon plays a really big part in this, just as Beel played a big role in the dad!Lucifer fic. It's never hinted whether they're together or not, it's kind of up to the imagination... but if you'd like, I can write a part two to this??? (I will also, to anyone who might want it, write a part two to the dad!Lucifer fic)

Word Count : 2.3K Warnings : pregnancy ; children ; maternity ; babies ; hinted abortion ; angst ;

He never wanted children, he didn’t want anything that would actually tie him down to anything or anyone. It wasn’t his “thing”, and you both had done everything to prevent it from happening. Up until now, everything had worked, there had never been one mistake, but the both of you got sloppy. There was a party, and… well, you loved him, and he had said that he loved you, and precautions weren’t a “thing” at that moment. One slip up, one mistake, and now everything was falling apart.

“I didn’t want this. I don’t want that.” He spat the words at you, pointing towards your stomach. He had only stopped pacing long enough to say it before starting again, walking the length of his room as he gnawed at his perfectly manicured fingers. You hadn’t expected anything different from him, but it still hurt that he was blaming the whole thing on you, as if it didn’t take 50/50 participation to make something like this happen. “It’ll completely ruin my image. A child with a human! It’ll be all over the tabloids, in every magazine… I can’t have that.” His behavior shouldn’t have been that shocking to you, but to hear just how selfish he really was, to know that he thought so little of you, it hurt way worse than you ever thought it would. One moment he was professing his love to you, and now he’s disgusted with you. It could have been that your emotions were running high from the situation, or maybe the hormones had just taken over completely, but you wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, and you wanted to fight him. “Your image?! This thing could kill me and all you care about is your stupid public persona… Screw you! I wish I never fell in love with you.” His eyes went soft, and for a moment you thought that maybe he’d apologize, maybe he was rethinking his own words, his actions, that maybe you’d be able to be a team to work through this mess. You were wrong, you were so wrong. “Wish all you want, we both know you’d have never been able to resist me.” Narcissistic, selfish, he was just awful. You closed your eyes tightly, trying to fight back the tears as you walked past him. He didn’t deserve your last words, he didn’t deserve anything. He didn’t deserve you.

The twelfth week was supposed to be the most exciting. It was when most couples would finally make their announcements, happily tell family and friends that they were expecting. Your twelfth week was a nightmare. You were trapped in the Devildom, human doctors wouldn’t know what the hell was going on if they delivered a child with horns, a child so angelically demonic that they’d probably call the hospital priest to your room as soon as they saw it. The only place where you’d be able to safely deliver a child like this and live through it would be in the Devildom. It’s not like you hadn’t tried to relieve yourself of the problem. You had gone to Lucifer, Satan, Barbatos, even Lord Diavolo, asking them if there was any way that they could just… get rid of it. Sadly, Asmodeus wasn’t just a narcissistic, selfish prick, he was also sadistic. None of them could do anything without Asmodeus’ approval since it was his child too. Every time one of them asked him, he would refuse. He didn’t even give a reason, he just wanted to see you suffer. Strangely, you had found comfort and solace in Mammon. You were pretty sure he was only helping because he still had a crush on you, but he became your emotional, mental, and physical support throughout everything. You had told him many times that he didn’t have to basically “fill in” for Asmo, but he insisted that it was the least he could do considering his little brother was being a dick. He wasn’t just your support at the house, he was… invested in the child that Asmo hadn’t wanted. He took you to doctors appointments, sometimes even getting in the way of the doctor as he pointed to the ultrasound screen. He was so excited that most people just assumed it was his kid, and he never denied it either. It was just easier that way, to go along with whatever the other demons said because he knew that any mention of Asmo would upset you and that was the last thing he wanted to do. Some days the both of you would sit on the couch in the living room, flipping through the pages of maternity books. He’d really try to understand the diagrams on the pages, but you could tell that he was confused and sometimes he’d even look up at you from the pages, and then down at your stomach, and then up at you, before looking back down at the pages. It was cute, and you’d giggle lightly, resting your head on his shoulder as you continued flipping through the pages. He had become the only person in the house that you felt like you could fully trust and rely on. Everyone else wanted to stay out of the drama, nobody wanted to get involved, but Mammon wasn’t there for the drama, he was only there for you, he was there when you needed him.

“Can you believe him? Can you believe both of them? We haven’t even broken up and they’re sleeping together, she’s even wearing his clothes. It’s ridiculous, and Mammon is out there playing dad with my kid.” Asmo sat on the edge of the counter, voicing his complaints to anyone who would listen. Sadly it was Beel’s turn since he was the only one in the kitchen right now. Most of the time the other brothers would just hide themselves away, not wanting to deal with Asmo right now, but Beel had gotten hungry and he really thought he’d be lucky enough to avoid his brother. “I don’t know what the big deal is… You didn’t want the kid anyway.” He wasn’t going to walk on eggshells around Asmo, he wasn’t going to lie to make anyone feel better. In Beel’s eyes, Asmo was completely in the wrong. “If Y/N is finding some sort of happiness in spending time with Mammon, who are you to complain? It stopped being your place when you said you didn’t want it.” He shrugged before grabbing his plate and going straight back to his room. He wasn’t going to continue listening to it, but he hoped that he had left Asmo with something to really think about. He walked up the stairs, going straight to the bedroom door, knocking loudly. He wasn’t going to stop until someone opened the door either. Mammon got up from the bed that you both had been propped up on, rolling his eyes as he walked over to his door, groaning loudly when he saw Asmo standing there. “Whaddaya want? We don’t need ya here… yer just gonna stress ‘er out.” He was trying to talk quietly, not wanting you to hear him or even know who was there. He was so protective of you, he wouldn’t let anyone else serve your food during meals, he’d even stand outside the bathroom door whenever you were in there just to make sure you didn’t fall or hurt yourself. Asmo pushed his way into the room much to Mammon’s annoyance. “I don’t care, Mammon. Y/N isn’t yours, and neither is the child. They’re both mine, and I’d like to have a word with her.” He said snidely, but Mammon wasn’t going to have it. Brother or not, he cared too much about you, he had worked so hard to help you get over what Asmo had done, and he wasn’t going to let him waltz back in and ruin everything. Mammon wasn’t weak, he was way stronger than he looked, and right now he was showing his strength, grabbing Asmo’s arm and practically throwing him out of the room. His teeth were barred and the growl that was coming from him sounded feral, animalistic, it was terrifying. “Neither of them are yers! I’ve been there fer everything, every doctor visit, I even bought a damn room fer the kid and she’s sleepin’ in my room, next ta me, and a next ta Y/N. Ya know why?! ‘Cause ya don’t jus’ get ta come back when ya fine’ly realize that ya fucked up! Now… leave us alone. We don’t need ya here.” He left Asmo out in the hallway, crumpled against the wall as he walked back into the room. “She…” Asmo kept repeating the word as he pushed himself up off the floor. He was having a daughter, and he hadn’t even known about it, he wouldn’t have known about it if Mammon hadn’t screamed at him. It was strange how knowing made things more real, it made him care more, and the worst part was that he knew it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to you. He didn’t know how to fix what he had done, but he knew that he had to try at least. “Lucifer…” “I don’t want things to be like this when she gets here. It’s not going to be long either.” You sighed, finally relaxing once more in the bed once Mammon got in next to you. “Why was he here anyway?” Mammon shrugged, focusing all of his attention on your stomach trying to calm himself. He liked watching it move, he thought it was neat.

The delivery was smoother than you thought it would be, and Mammon only fainted twice during the whole thing, so he did pretty good. Delivering a child in the Devildom had its perks, the main one being that you didn’t have to stay more than one day in the hospital to recover. They did some spell and you were completely fine. It was strange, but you appreciated it greatly. The only issue with the perk was that it meant you were going back home and that meant you’d have to face Asmo. She looked so much like him, and you could tell that Mammon was upset by it. Even though he knew she wasn’t actually his, he wished that she didn’t look so much like her father. Her eyes were his exact color, and it left you speechless when she first opened them, gazing up at you with wonder and curiosity. She was precious, and she was yours. As you walked through the door you were met with balloons and streamers, and Asmo. You heard Mammon growl quietly, and you quickly held your hand out to him, silently begging him to stop. He was holding the carseat and you didn’t need him to lose his temper right now. “I just wanted to welcome her home, welcome you home. I bought some things for her, they’re outside of Mammon’s door.” Asmo said nervously, and for once he was terrified of being rejected. “We don’t need noth-” Mammon had started, but you quickly shook your head, pleading to him with your eyes to just stay calm. He groaned loudly, eyeing Asmo angrily before walking past him to the stairs. “Fine. She’s prob’ly hungry… I’m gonna feed ‘er. Ya comin’ up?” You nodded quickly, making sure he got up the stairs alright before turning back to Asmo. “What are you doing, Asmo?”

He moved into the living room, waiting for you to sit down before he did, and he looked scared, he looked sad. Of course you didn’t like seeing him like this, but it was his fault, he had caused all of this. “I don’t want to be alone. I know that sounds selfish, that I’m making this about myself again, but I’m not trying to. When Mammon told me… he said she… It's a girl?” You nodded slowly and you saw his face light up for only a second before it left once more. “I was scared, I am scared… I didn’t know if I’d be a good… father. I never saw myself as one, but seeing Mammon, and he’s doing so well… I never saw him as a father either… I thought that maybe, since he could… that maybe I could too.” He sighed, bringing his hand back up to his lips to chew at his fingers again, his orange eyes glistening with the tears that hadn’t fallen yet. “I know that what I said was wrong… I was rude. I didn’t think I’d have a problem finding someone to take my mind off of everything, but I was wrong. I love you, and nobody else is going to take your place, nobody else can take your place.” You both sat on the couch in silence, his tears finally falling as he waited for you to say something, and yours building up as you tried to think of something to say. “This isn’t fair… You know this isn’t fair. You can’t… you can’t pick and choose when you want to be a dad. You weren’t there… and you made it very clear that you didn’t want her. I… I can’t do this Asmo… I’m sorry… They’re waiting for me… I-I have to go.” You took a deep breath as you stood from the couch, wiping your tears with the back of your hands as you started walking to the stairs. “Y/N…” He walked up behind you, grabbing your hand to stop you. You didn’t turn around to face him, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, but he didn’t mind. He was actually thankful that you didn’t look at him, because what he was about to say was the hardest thing he’d ever have to say in his life. “I know that I’m unwanted… But… If I may… Can I meet her? Just once? Please?”

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #obey me! swd #obey me! shall we date #obey me! #om! swd #om! shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me x f!reader #obey me x mc #obey me angst #obey me Asmodeus #obey me Asmodeus x reader #obey me Asmodeus x mc #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #Asmodeus x reader #Asmodeus x mc #tw pregnancy #tw children #tw babies #tw abortion #asmodeus avatar of lust #obey me Mammon #mammon avatar of greed

[robininthelabyrinth]

I hope you get plenty of prompts that you enjoy. Thank you.

NMJ bonding with child Wangji. Maybe a few times NMJ beat little LWJ in a spar and the time he knew little Wangji would one day beat him. Mostly Pre Cloud Recesses arc?

Of Few Words - ao3

The first time Nie Mingjue met Lan Xichen’s little brother, he thought he would be just like Nie Huaisang, so he picked him up and threw him.

“Mingjue-xiong,” Lan Xichen gasped, clearly horrified. “What are you doing?”

Probably something forbidden by the rules, Nie Mingjue thought, and shrugged.

He wasn’t good with words, was too blunt and too direct, especially for the Lan sect, and so over the past couple of weeks or so that he’d been here he’d found it was easier not to speak at all. They’d make whatever assumptions they wanted about him, no matter what he did; it was easier to just let them do that and work with that than it was to futilely strive to get them to actually understand him.

“Even if Wangji has done something to upset you, you may only assign him to do copying,” Lan Xichen told him, and Nie Mingjue was briefly surprised that his new friend had assumed he was angry before he remembered that everyone here thought he was angry all the time, so it wasn’t actually that much of a surprise. “Please keep that in mind. Also, I don’t know if I’ve said, but he’s very reserved, so please don’t take offense if he just points things out...oh, I wish I wasn’t needed elsewhere this afternoon! I’d much rather show you around myself, but as it is, he’ll be showing you around this part of the Cloud Recesses in my place.”

Nie Mingjue grunted assent, and watched, a little desolately, as Lan Xichen disappeared down the still confusing twists and turns of the paths of the Cloud Recesses. It was all gardens here, carefully tended to maximize graceful tranquility, and he was sure he would have no chance of ever finding his way back on his own if left to it.

It wouldn’t surprise him in the slightest if he was. The other Lan disciples hadn’t really taken to him the way Lan Xichen had, much less a younger brother that the (rather reserved, by Nie Mingjue’s standards) Lan Xichen had described as reserved…

Unexpectedly, a small hand slipped into his own, and he looked down in surprise.

Lan Wangji looked up at him, his cheeks flushed a little red.

Nie Mingjue instinctively smiled at him, charmed by the reminder of Nie Huaisang, then remembered that too much exuberance seemed to only disturb the Lan sect and struggled to get his expression under control. He expected him to start leading him around the Cloud Recesses without another word – he had overheard Lan Qiren telling his father that Lan Wangji wasn’t much of a talker, very quiet, and to not expect much interaction with him – but to his surprise Lan Wangji did not move, looking at up at him thoughtfully, lips pursed as if he was considering saying something.

Nie Mingjue waited for his judgment.

“You weren’t angry,” Lan Wangji finally said. “When you threw me.”

Nie Mingjue blinked.

“No,” he admitted, breaking his own informal vow of silence. “I wasn’t. I thought you might enjoy it.”

Nie Huaisang loved being tossed around, whether up into the air or into bushes, headfirst shrieking into his bed or ass-first into a pool of water; he’d thought tossing little brothers around was what big brothers were there for. Sure, there was a small age gap – Lan Wangji was six, Nie Huaisang still not quite five – but he hadn’t thought it would make such a difference.

Lan Wangji hummed thoughtfully. He did not speak for another long while, but Nie Mingjue was starting to think that that was just him chewing over his thoughts before forming them into words.

At last, he spoke again: “I did.”

Nothing afterwards. Hesitantly, Nie Mingjue asked, “Would you like me to do it again?”

Lan Wangji nodded.

This time, Nie Mingjue was a little more cautious: he threw Lan Wangji up into the air and caught him, trying to demonstrate that he knew what he was doing, that he could be trusted, and by the third or fourth time Lan Wangji was smiling. It wasn’t quite on part with Nie Huaisang’s giggles and shrieks, but felt rewarding nevertheless.

Satisfied by his success, Nie Mingjue was about to put him down on the ground, but hesitated. “Do you want to ride on my shoulders?” he asked, and waited as Lan Wangji considered it.

“Another time,” Lan Wangji decided. “Not today.”

Nie Mingjue nodded and put him down. Lan Wangji took his hand once again and, this time, led him around the way he’d expected from the start, pointing out various places and naming them in a quiet murmur.

Lan Wangji really wasn’t much of a talker, a person of few words, but that was fine. So was Nie Mingjue.

-

It was a few days later that he came across Lan Wangji kneeling beside the training grounds and impulsively challenged him. He was getting bored of training alone: Lan Xichen was busy again, and the other Lan disciples had already made clear that they didn’t want to have anything to do with him, the interloper who’d pushed his way into their lessons by force.

It wasn’t actually like that at all – his father had sent Nie Mingjue to learn here for the season as a gesture of goodwill, wanting to support Lan Qiren’s lecture series and make it clear that other sects should follow suit, to encourage Lan Qiren’s goal of eventually creating a safe haven for all the Great Sect’s heirs to come together and learn and build friendships while still in their youth – but Nie Mingjue knew that there was no convincing any of his wary Lan sect peers of that. Even if there was, he certainly couldn’t do it, not with his clumsy tongue and scowling face and too-tall height that made everyone immediately assume he would resort to violence as his first and only argument.

So he trained alone and studied alone, or with Lan Xichen in the rare times when his friend was free, but it was boring, and anyway, he thought he’d gotten on pretty well with Lan Wangji the first time they’d met. It wouldn’t be a real spar, of course, not against a six-year-old, but doing the moves slow and mirroring a smaller opponent would force him to pay close attention to his own technique, which would pay off in the long run.

He explained this to Lan Wangji when the boy frowned up at him in what Nie Mingjue was starting to be able to identify as a silent question – he didn’t use many words himself, just spat out “Mirroring improves technique,” and saw that Lan Wangji understood the rest – and a moment later Lan Wangji nodded and rose to his feet, picking up one of the practice swords and taking a position opposite him on one of the fields.

Nie Mingjue started with a standard warm-up routine, unsure of Lan Wangji’s skills. Supposedly he was the opposite of Nie Huaisang in this respect, too, startlingly advanced for his age, but Lan Qiren had also said something about him pausing his sword training as a result of some incident, not specified; his father had nodded in response as if he’d understood, which was very unhelpful to the eavesdropping Nie Mingjue, who didn’t. Since he didn’t know the background of the incident or when Lan Wangji had picked up sword training again, and more to the point wasn’t inclined to ask since he knew that Lan Wangji wouldn’t enjoy explaining, he just started out with the basics and went up slowly from there.

It turned out his concerns were mostly unnecessary – Lan Wangji was a bit stiff at first, maybe because of the kneeling he’d been doing, but he clearly had the basics down flat, and they were able to progress to something a little more interesting quick enough, trading very slow swipes with saber and sword.

Nie Mingjue didn’t even notice that they had an audience until he heard Lan Xichen say his name in a strangled voice. He finished the follow-through of the move they were on, since stopping in the middle could be dangerous (not for them, not with training swords, but in the future, when it was real, and forming good habits now would help more later on), saluted Lan Wangji with his saber and was saluted in return, and then turned to look for his friend.

Lan Xichen was staring at them as if they’d turned into ghosts, and there was a whole crowd of Lan sect disciples standing around gawking at them instead of doing their own training.

Nie Mingjue hunched up his shoulders, assuming he’d somehow managed to do something wrong again, and automatically stepped in front of Lan Wangji, blocking the others’ views of him. “I challenged him,” he said bluntly, hoping to take the brunt of whatever punishment would need to be imposed here – generally speaking, he’d learned that the Lan sect’s penalties for being lured into misbehavior were less than the penalties for instigating it. “He didn’t seem otherwise occupied.”

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen said, or started to say, but Lan Wangji was already turning to put away his training sword. He then formally saluted his brother and trotted away from the training field entirely.

Lan Xichen watched him go without stopping him, then turned to Nie Mingjue. “Mingjue-xiong, how did you get him to fight you?”

Nie Mingjue blinked, confused. “I asked.”

“Yes, but – how?”

“I asked him to train with me,” Nie Mingjue said slowly, not sure if he was missing something. “I pointed out that mirroring improves technique. He probably did it as a favor to me…listen, do you need me to copy lines or something?”

“Copy lines?”

“For whatever rule I just broke,” Nie Mingjue clarified, but Lan Xichen only looked more confused. “Was it because he was kneeling and I interrupted him?”

Everyone is staring at me again and I don’t know why, again. Just tell me what it is that I did, impose the punishment, and I won’t do it again, I promise – but you need to tell me what it was that I did wrong first.

“Mingjue-xiong,” Lan Xichen said, staring at him even more strangely now. “You didn’t break any rules at all.”

That was even weirder. “But –”

“Wangji was kneeling because that’s what he always does during training hours,” Lan Xichen said. “He doesn’t train the sword anymore.”

“He – doesn’t?” Nie Mingjue asked, now even more confused, and in his confusion forgot that he was in the Lan sect with their carefully thought-out sentences and myriad of prickly unwritten rules. “Why not? He’s so good at it! And he seemed to be having a good time, too…listen, I know your sect prizes musical cultivation, Xichen, and that it’s often one or the other, but there’s really no reason he can’t do both.”

He belatedly realized he was talking too much and shut his mouth, embarrassed. He shouldn’t have brought up that subject.

After all, Qingheng-jun had been a sword cultivator with little interest in music beyond battle-songs  – still was, Nie Mingjue supposed, although he was in seclusion so much that it might as well be ‘had been’ – and Lan Qiren was an expert at musical cultivation, skilled in both xiao and guqin, but used his sword only to fly.  They’d been trained that way, complementary to each other’s strengths – Qingheng-jun the attacking hand, Lan Qiren the supporting arm – which was a pretty decent plan right up until it had all rather been ruined when Qingheng-jun had for whatever reason retreated from the world.

“Of course,” Lan Xichen echoed, and luckily he didn’t seem to notice the implied criticism. “He should, of course, if he wants to…Mingjue-xiong, I’m sorry, I have to go again, I need to talk to my uncle at once. But you should feel free to challenge Wangji again – in fact, I would appreciate it if you did. Liu-xiong, can you tell Mingjue-xiong what Wangji’s training hours are?”

One of the other Lan disciples nodded, and Lan Xichen flashed them both a thankful smile before disappearing again, even though he’d promised that his uncle only needed him for half a day and that they’d be able to go down to visit Caiyi Town that afternoon.

As a result, despite Lan Xichen’s assurances, Nie Mingjue still had the distinct feeling that he’d done something wrong, but he really couldn’t see what. Best not to think too much about it, he supposed.

-

By the afternoon, Nie Mingjue had retreated to the library to avoid being stared at. He’d thought that the indirect sneers and silent rigid politeness that invited no familiarity was bad, but apparently it was actively worse when the Lan sect disciples treated him like he’d just turned into a performing monkey that had done a neat trick. They still wouldn’t condescend to talk to him, of course, but they felt no issue staring or talking to each other about him – even though Nie Mingjue was sure there was a rule about not talking behind people’s backs.

Maybe it didn’t count if you did it in front of their faces.

Nie Mingjue actually rather liked the library, despite the Lan sect’s general tendency to treat him like an illiterate ape that only knew how to swing a saber – even Lan Xichen had looked a little puzzled the first time he’d asked to spend the afternoon there, though of course he hadn’t said anything out loud beyond reminding Nie Mingjue that they didn’t have to go there and that it wasn’t necessary to sacrifice his own enjoyment for Lan Xichen’s.

It wasn’t his friend’s fault that he was brought up to prefer those were gentle and scholarly, Nie Mingjue reminded himself, even if it chafed a little every time that Lan Xichen automatically sided with someone who could express themselves better, someone cleverer with words than he; that trait was common to just about everyone at the Cloud Recesses, and at least Lan Xichen would eventually listen to him if he kept his temper under control and persisted in trying to make his point.

Nie Mingjue might wish that the Lan sect didn’t view losing one’s temper as an automatic forfeit of the argument – do not succumb to rage had been whispered in his vicinity more times than he could count, though rarely to his face – and he might think in his heart of hearts think that they were simply wrong in dismissing his viewpoint just because he felt too strongly about a matter to contain himself, but he was a guest here and he needed to respect their ways, conform himself to their customs, even if it upset and disturbed him to do so.

At least sometimes those ways and customs served him, including in the deliberate air of quiet contemplation in the Library Pavilion. There were separate rooms for private study, of course, but an emphasis was put on preserving the tranquility of the location, and it seemed that the Lan disciples at least knew enough shame to avoid coming to gawk at him from the door when he was there.

Deciding to entertain himself, Nie Mingjue picked out several books on military strategy utilizing musical cultivation – just because he was all but tone-deaf didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate the power of the Lan sect’s core techniques – and settled down for a nice afternoon of being alone.

Until, of course, he wasn’t.

He was pretty absorbed in an analysis of altitude effects on range attacks for a while, deaf and blind to the outside world the way he usually was when he was reading, and then, perhaps alerted by some sound, he looked up to find that the sun had shifted position and also that Lan Wangji was sitting across from him with his own book primly laid out in front of him.

Nie Mingjue blinked and thought briefly about saying something. If it had been Nie Huaisang, he would have – some friendly jibe that Nie Huaisang would return in full measure, before they both settled down to enjoy each other’s company in communal silence – but this was Lan Wangji, who was a Lan, and probably wouldn’t appreciate it.

So he didn’t say anything, just looked back down at his book and continued reading.

After a little while, there was a tug at his sleeve.

Nie Mingjue looked up. Lan Wangji was pointing to one of the words in his book – “Frivolous,” he said, assuming that Lan Wangji was asking for assistance with the more complicated characters the way that Nie Huaisang would have, albeit with much less whining. “Means lacking purpose or value.”

Lan Wangji nodded, released his sleeve, and returned to his reading.

They carried on in this fashion for a while, quiet reading interspersed with occasional reading comprehension questions, and it was nice. Nie Mingjue could feel the stress of the day slowly sliding off his shoulders – more than just the day, maybe the whole week, the entire time he’d been here, or even before, when Nie Huaisang burst into tears at finding out his big brother was going to be leaving him behind. He would need to write to him again soon, Nie Mingjue thought to himself, and send presents; he’d been hoping to pick something up in Caiyi Town today, but then Lan Xichen had gotten busy…

It’d be nice if he could get him something from the Cloud Recesses itself, though.

“Wangji,” he said before he could stop himself. “What is a present you would get for someone who likes pretty things?”

Lan Wangji blinked up at him, then frowned. Nie Mingjue was pretty sure that it was a thinking frown, though, so he just waited, and sure enough Lan Wangji carefully closed his book and stood up.

“Flowers,” he said, and held out a hand as if to help Nie Mingjue up.

Nie Mingjue long ago learned that when a small child offers to help you, you accept regardless of whether or not they were actually capable of performing the action in question – though with Lan sect arm strength, who even knew – so he took Lan Wangji’s hand and scrambled up to his feet.

“Flowers?” he asked, a little dubiously. “I don’t know if they’d survive being sent by post.”

“Flower petals,” Lan Wangji clarified. “Pressed.”

Nie Mingjue blinked, but actually, no, that sounded perfect for Nie Huaisang. Especially if he got them pressed into a bookmark or something.

“My brother will love it,” he said enthusiastically. “Do you know where there are good flowers?” He knew himself well enough not to even try to make that sort of judgment call. “Can you show me?”

Lan Wangji frowned, and this one wasn’t his thinking frown – it seemed sad, almost.

“You don’t have to,” Nie Mingjue assured him, but Lan Wangji set his shoulders in a look of fierce six-year-old determination and he nodded as if he was going to go to war. “Really, if you don’t want to interrupt your reading –”

“The place is sad,” Lan Wangji said. “But it has the best flowers.”

Nie Mingjue frowned. He could tell from the way Lan Wangji’s little lips were firmed up in stubborn intent that there would be no stopping him, that he was determined to get Nie Mingjue the best flowers – truly, Lan Wangji was such a good boy, unlike that junior hellspawn and walking calamity named Nie Huaisang – but also that he thought it would hurt him to do so.

He didn’t want Lan Wangji to hurt.

“Do you want to ride on my shoulders this time?” Nie Mingjue asked, and Lan Wangji looked at him in surprise. He shrugged. “Sometimes having a different perspective on the same place makes it feel different.”

He knew he was butchering the explanation – he really wasn’t good with words – but he didn’t know how else to explain it.

He didn’t know how to explain that he used to spend days and days looking at the place where Nie Huaisang’s mother had gone in to give birth and never come back out, equally drawn and repulsed by it, right up until the day he climbed up the gate of the Unclean Realm on a dare and by coincidence happened to see it when he looked down from that great height, only to realize that the place he’d thought of as dark and depressing and even haunted was just a room like all the rooms right beside it: he couldn’t even tell it apart from the rest.

“…mn,” Lan Wangji said, sounding doubtful, but he hopped onto Nie Mingjue’s back when offered and scrambled up to sit on his shoulders, ducking his head to avoid the doorway to the Library Pavilion as they exited out the side door, and then he showed him the way to a nice looking cottage that seemed a little out of the way but which was surrounded by what were undoubtedly lovely purple gentians.

“Wow,” Nie Mingjue couldn’t help but say. “They’re very – purple.”

Lan Wangji poked him in the head.

“They are! Very purple. I’m sure Huaisang will love them to a ridiculous degree and that my father will write me angry letters about trying to sell him to the Jiang sect again –” There was a very small snort from above his head. “In my defense, he was really annoying when he was a colicky baby, and at the time I thought the Jiang sect were pirates.”

Another snort, this time less small. Somewhat disdainful.

“Listen, they’re ‘known for their watercraft’, right? It was a perfectly reasonable mistake to make…”

Lan Wangji didn’t giggle the way Nie Huaisang did when Nie Mingjue clowned around for him, but he was smiling by the time he edged onto a nearby tree branch to get a particular blossom that Nie Mingjue had set his heart on, declaring it the fattest of all the flowers and thereby a necessary acquisition, and in the end they collected a full basket of the purple flowers, more than enough for a dozen pressed bookmarks.

The smile made Nie Mingjue feel like he accomplished something.

It was almost enough, even, to let him brush off all the stares they got as they walked back together, side-by-side.

-

Nie Mingjue reported to Lan Qiren’s study with a great deal of trepidation.

It only got worse when he saw Lan Xichen sitting there as well, and when Lan Qiren instructed his nephew to serve them all tea. Nie Mingjue was abruptly seized by the fear that something terrible had happened: that he’d broken some unknown rule and needed to be punished severely, that he’d failed all his tests, that they’d decided he wasn’t actually a good fit for the Cloud Recesses after all, that his father had been summoned to take him back home early in disgrace –

“You’ve been spending some time with Wangji of late,” Lan Qiren said.

Nie Mingjue nodded.

“Yesterday, you presented the craftsman with a basket of purple gentians. Did Wangji show you where to find them?”

“Yes,” Nie Mingjue said cautiously. “He helped me pick them.”

Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen exchanged glances.

Nie Mingjue somehow felt even more nervous.

“Was I not supposed to take them?” he asked. “Wangji said they’re his mother’s favorites.”

Lan Xichen dropped his cup.

“Xichen,” Lan Qiren said sternly, and Lan Xichen apologized and quickly cleaned it up. Luckily the cup had not shattered. “Nie-gongzi, to confirm, Wangji told you that himself?”

Nie Mingjue nodded.

Lan Qiren stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Nie-gongzi…if I were to tell you that Wangji has not spoken to anyone in nearly six months, what would you say?”

Nie Mingjue blinked.

“He also hasn’t trained with the sword in that time,” Lan Xichen interjected.

Nie Mingjue opened his mouth, then closed it. He had no idea what to say.

“Our mother died,” Lan Xichen explained, his brow creased in misery and concern. “Wangji didn’t really understand…it took a long time before he understood that he couldn’t see her any more.”

“Oh,” Nie Mingjue said, feeling uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, Xichen.”

Now it was Lan Xichen’s turn to blink. “Sorry? For what?”

“For your loss? I mean, she was your mother, too, right?” It occurred to Nie Mingjue that she might not be, the way his mother and Nie Huaisang’s mother weren’t the same, but he was pretty sure the Lan sect only allowed for one marriage, and the age gap between Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji was smaller than the one between him and Nie Huaisang…

“Yes,” Lan Xichen said. “She – was. Thank you.”

Lan Qiren made a thoughtful sound.

“If you’re asking if I did something to convince Wangji to come with me and do all that,” Nie Mingjue said, having finally figured out why he was sitting here having tea and being uncomfortable, “I really didn’t. It may just be that enough time has passed for the wound to scab over.”

“Perhaps,” Lan Qiren said.

“I think he feels bad for me?” Nie Mingjue hazarded. “I’m not sure. I’m still learning how to understand him.”

“The fact that you’ve realized that there’s something there to understand puts you way ahead of most people,” Lan Xichen told him.

“Why would he feel bad for you?” Lan Qiren asked.

Because your sect is full of snobs that all hate me.

“Uh,” Nie Mingjue said. “I – have no idea.”

Lan Xichen frowned at him. “Mingjue-xiong, ‘do not tell lies’ is a rule.”

“So is ‘do not insult people’,” Nie Mingjue said sulkily, and refused to say another word no matter how many ways Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen asked. He’d already figured out that not talking was the best way to avoid getting into trouble – the Lan sect was much more insular than the Nie sect, with all sorts of restrictions about getting brought in, and he didn’t have any confidence that expressing grievances would result in anything other than more shunning.

Eventually, Lan Qiren dismissed him, frowning, and Lan Xichen escorted him back to his rooms.

“Is it because you don’t trust me?” he asked, and Nie Mingjue stared at him.

“What are you talking about?” he said. “Of course I trust you. You’re my friend.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me that there was something wrong?” Lan Xichen demanded. “And don’t say nothing’s wrong, that’s obviously a lie.”

��It’s because we’re friends,” Nie Mingjue said with a sigh. Most of the time, he forgot that there was an age gap between him and Lan Xichen – three and a half years, same as the gap between Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji – but sometimes it really hit home. “I don’t want to make trouble for you. This is just a place I’m staying for a little while, but you live here; after I go, we’ll still be friends, but you’ll still be stuck with whatever mess I make for you.”

Lan Xichen was scowling, his lower lip trembling a little, and Nie Mingjue cautiously reached out a hand to put on his shoulder, squeezing. He would prefer to give him a hug, but he didn’t know if it would be welcome – he’d already told Lan Xichen that he himself was always open for hugs, but he knew very well that Lan Xichen was uncomfortable with too much contact.

“It’s all right,” he said.

“No, it’s not,” Lan Xichen said. “Wangji noticed that you were unhappy, and I didn’t! What kind of friend am I?”

“You’re a good friend,” Nie Mingjue insisted. “You are. It’s not about you. I promise.”

They still hadn’t resolved it by the time Lan Xichen left him at his room. Nie Mingjue sighed, hoped that he hadn’t inadvertently ruined everything, and went to sleep.

The next morning, he woke up when the door to his room opened abruptly with a slam that seemed, in his sleep-fogged brain, to echo throughout the entire Cloud Recesses.

“Mingjue-xiong!”

“…Xichen?” Nie Mingjue said, and rubbed his eyes disbelievingly. “Did you just slam a door?”

It wasn’t really a slam. It was a small shove, at best.

“Why didn’t you tell me people were being mean to you?” Lan Xichen demanded, and Nie Mingjue stared at him. “I would’ve made them stop! Really, I would have! I don’t care if they’re Lan sect and you’re not, they shouldn’t be – I shouldn’t be – making assumptions about you or pushing you out or – or – or anything!”

“Where did you get all of this from?” Nie Mingjue asked, utterly at sea. He was right, of course, about the problems Nie Mingjue had been having, but he certainly hadn’t known it last night before curfew and while, yes, it was only morning by the standards of guest disciples and not Lan sect members themselves – he got an extra shichen to sleep in while he adjusted to the earlier schedule, of which he generally tried to use only half – it still seemed a little implausible that Lan Xichen had managed to puzzle all of that out overnight.

“Wangji!” Lan Xichen said, and threw himself on the bed next to Nie Mingjue and gave him a hug, a good proper one like the ones he used to get all the time back in Qinghe and which he missed rather terribly. “He actually came and talked to us! With words! Well, a few words, anyway, but he hasn’t said anything to Shifu or me for six months up until now. He said you were unhappy because of the other Lan disciples persisted in thinking that you were stupid and angry when you’re neither.”

Nie Mingjue felt warm inside.

“Your brother’s smart,” he said gruffly.

“He is,” Lan Xichen said. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I also thought you were stupid and angry and nothing more than that. I know you’re not.”

“I didn’t think that,” Nie Mingjue said, and it was mostly not a lie. “We’re friends, aren’t we? A friend wouldn’t think that about another friend.”

“That’s right,” Lan Xichen said, nodding firmly. “And friends don’t let friends go around thinking they didn’t do anything when they did something big – I still don’t know what exactly you did, Mingjue-xiong, but you helped Wangji a lot, and I’m eternally grateful.”

“There’s no need for thanks between friends,” Nie Mingjue reminded him, the first rule of their friendship formed in the spaces between discussion conferences that neither of them had any choice but to attend, and Lan Xichen smiled.

“I know,” he said warmly, and Nie Mingjue felt warm in response. “But I’m going to abuse my privilege and ask you to keep spending time with him – with both of us, sometimes, but with him by yourself if you don’t mind – so I think you’re owed at least one ‘thanks’.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” Nie Mingjue said, grinning. “You just want a free babysitter, is that it?”

“It is not! Mingjue-xiong!”

Nie Mingjue started laughing. Lan Xichen smacked him – lightly by Lan standards, no doubt, but it was a good thing Nie Mingjue was as strong as he was.

“I don’t mind,” Nie Mingjue finally said. “I like your brother.”

Lan Xichen’s smile was as dazzling as the sun. “Good,” he said. “He likes you, too.”

#mdzs #nie mingjue #lan wangji #lan xichen #my fic #my fics #of few words #ivydragon

[sunkissedpages]

instead of you [part eighteen]

pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, mentions of +sex

word count: 2k

series masterlist

“Sam and I will take the bunk beds.”

The room was a decent size. It was definitely bigger than Sam’s dad had made it sound. A large window on the back wall flooded the space with natural light and offered a view of the city below. By the door was a small fridge and a countertop with a sink and a couple of burners built in so that guests could cook their own meals. There was a queen sized bed jutting out from the western-facing wall and built into the adjacent wall were two twin-sized bunks, one on top of the other, making the room feel... cozy.

Harry and Tom traded looks with each other.

“Kidding.”

The boys visibly relaxed and chuckled awkwardly.

“If I ever have to share a bed with Tom again it’ll be too soon,” Harry sighed.

“Is that any way to treat your big brother?” Tom scoffed.

“I’m taller than you.”

“For now.”

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean? You’re twenty-five, you’re done growing.”

Tom shrugged. “Yeah, but I could always make you shorter.”

“Oh, what are you going to do, cut my legs off?” Harry challenged.

“I never said that.”

“Jesus Christ guys,” Sam said, finally cutting in. “Can we not threaten each other until we’ve had at least a few hours of sleep?”

“Whatever,” his twin grumbled, kicking off his shoes by the door.

Tom slung his backpack onto the top bunk and pulled his sweatshirt off over his head, exposing a strip of his stomach in the process. You looked away instinctively, hoping that you hadn’t drawn any attention to yourself while doing so.

“You always get the top bunk,” Harry whined.

“Yeah, because I’m older.”

“That’s not fair!”

“My brothers are actually ten years old,” Sam explained to you, raising his voice so that you could hear him over the bickering.

“No, I think ten-year-olds know how to take turns,” you said dismissively, not missing the glares from the other two Hollands.

“You’re right,” Sam agreed. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and sighed. “Reminds me of the family vacations we used to take. The six of us used to share one hotel room when we traveled.”

“Four boys... I don’t know how your mom did it.”

“None of us do.”

“I thought we were going to sleep,” Harry muttered from where he was already laying down on the bottom bunk, clearly irritated.

“Give us a minute to settle in, dude,” Sam shot back before dropping into a whisper. “It’s going to be a long week.”

You shook your head, putting your hands on his shoulders. “Everyone’s just cranky because they’re tired,” you reasoned. “We’ll get some sleep and then grab some food and then maybe they’ll be in a better mood.”

“You don’t know them like I do,” Sam warned.

“That’s true, but won’t they tone it down since I’m here?”

Sam snorted. “Wishful thinking.”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever, I’m going to hop in the shower. I feel gross after being on a plane for so long.”

“I’ll go after you,” Sam replied with a nod. “Let me know if you need anything.”

You thanked him with a kiss under the watchful eyes of his brothers who both groaned in protest.

“Oh, fuck off,” Sam growled against your lips.

“By the way, sharing a bed doesn’t mean you get to mess around because I don’t want to hear that shit.”

“Harry!” Sam and Tom shouted, Tom going as far as throwing a pillow at his younger brother from the top bunk.

“Just being honest! We heard you going at it like rabbits when you had your own room, and I didn’t say anything about it then-”

“Harry.” To your surprise, it was Tom who cut him off, raising another pillow in warning. Thankfully, Harry took the hint that time and shut up, crossing his arms over his chest in annoyance.

You smiled to yourself with the knowledge that your little Easy A stunt had worked, and looked over to see that Sam was wearing a matching smirk. He winked at you before turning to glare at his brothers.

“On that note, I’m going to shower,” you said, mostly to Sam, and made your way over to where you had dropped your suitcase by the door.

You gathered a set of pajamas to change into and then wandered into the bathroom, quietly closing the door behind you. It was one of those rolling doors so you had to be extra careful not to knock it off its hinges or the track and cause even more noise than necessary. You set your change of clothes on the counter next to the sink and began to undress, leaving your worn clothes on the floor.

The shower was kept in a room separate from the room with the sink and vanity, something you had read was common for Japanese washrooms. Inside the second room was a bathtub with a complicated looking panel next to it. With a closer inspection you determined it was used to fill the bath with water and customize the temperature. The showerhead was secured to the wall just to the side of the tub which meant you would have to hold it while you showered, but you didn’t mind. You were used to holding the showerhead for... other reasons.

Your shower was quick. You didn’t want to take too long when you knew other people were waiting for it. You were drained too. Even as you dried yourself off with a towel you could feel your arms start to get heavier.

You wrapped your hair in your towel and put on your pajamas shortly after, trying not to cringe at the way the fabric clung to your still-damp body. Usually you wouldn’t get dressed in the bathroom right after taking a shower because it was always so humid and sticky, you’d go out in the bedroom to do it, but as Sam’s girlfriend the latter wasn’t an option. So you dealt with the discomfort and ventured back into the main room.

It was dark now. Someone, you assumed Sam, had pulled the blackout curtains shut so that the daylight could no longer stream through the window. Harry was already fast asleep, but Tom and Sam were still awake, scrolling through their phones on their respective sides of the room.

Sam was perched on top of your bed, resting comfortably. He wasn’t underneath the covers, probably because he knew you didn’t like to share a bed with someone who hadn’t showered.

He smiled when he saw you and pushed himself up onto his elbows.

“Shower’s all yours,” you said.

“Thanks.”

You watched him rifle through his suitcase for pajamas and then eventually disappear into the bathroom before finally flinging yourself onto the bed. You still needed to take your hair out of the towel and brush your teeth, but you took a moment to just. Lay there.

Tom didn’t acknowledge you, hadn’t so much as looked at you since you came out of the bathroom, but you still found yourself looking over to him.

At the airport he had seemed at least a little concerned that he would have to share a room with you. Even in the cab to the hotel he kept sneaking glances at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. But now he looked completely relaxed and you were second guessing yourself. Maybe you’d been projecting. Maybe he hadn’t been anxious at all.

You, on the other hand, felt like you hadn’t been able to exhale since Dom had announced that you’d be sharing a room with Sam’s brothers.

It had dawned on you as soon as you stepped into the hotel room that you’d never be able to let your guard down. Before this point you had at least been able to take breaks, retreat to your hotel room with Sam and be yourselves without worrying that one of his family members was around. You hadn’t needed to keep up the act 24/7, but now you had no other choice. It was only for a week, but you knew it was going to be exhausting. You weren’t even sure that your current performance was believable, and that was without all of the more intimate interactions couples had in private. The good night kisses, the cuddling in bed together, falling asleep in each other's arms, the good morning kisses, all things you’d have to take into consideration. Most couples you knew moved in harmony, like they were one person, half of a whole. You and Sam were more like the hands on a clock. You were always moving in the same direction, and once in a while you’d overlap, but more often than not you were facing each other on completely opposite sides of the clock. It was what made you such good friends. Best friends. But what would make you terrible lovers.

To be fair, a lot of people misunderstood your dynamic, which you had been using to your advantage. They assumed that since you were always together you were basically the same person- and they weren’t necessarily wrong. You and Sam spent a majority of your time together. You knew each other well enough to finish each other’s sentences, to voice aloud what the other was thinking before they even said it.

The vibration of your phone next to you disrupted your train of thought. It was a text from Sam.

Can you come here rq? I need help lol.

Confused, you pushed back the covers and stood up. You dropped your phone back on the bed and walked over to the bathroom, keenly aware of the way Tom stiffened in his bed.

You rolled back the door and found Sam standing in his boxers next to the tub.

“What is it?” you asked, shutting the door behind you.

“How did you figure out the shower? I can’t get the water to be hot.”

“This is what you called me in here for?” you said, exasperation dripping from your voice.

“Yes! I don’t want to take a cold shower.” He said it like it should’ve been obvious.

“Did you try messing with the knobs? That’s how I figured it out.”

Sam’s cheeks turned a faint shade of pink as he pursed his lips, thinking about how to answer.

“Not all of them,” he admitted.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Sorry?”

“It’s the one on the left, dumbass,” you said and twisted the knob for him.

“Thanks,” he mumbled sheepishly. “I just didn’t want to fuck up the shower or anything.”

Men, you thought to yourself shaking your head.

“I’m going to bed,” you told him. “Before your brothers think I’m in here giving you head or something.”

“Let them think what they want,” he said, shrugging it off.

“I want to preserve what little amount of respect they have for me, thanks.”

Sam just chuckled and thanked you again as you let yourself out into the room with the sink. While you were there you hung up your wet towel and brushed your teeth with your finger and the toothpaste the hotel provided. You were too lazy to go get your toothbrush out of your bag.

“That was fast.”

You jumped, hand racing to your heart when you realized it was just Tom. He was still in his bed, but had rolled onto one side so that he could talk to you.

“You scared the shit out of me!” you hissed.

“Sorry.” He didn’t sound very sorry. “What did my brother want?”

God damn it, Sam.

“Why do you ask?”

Tom shrugged. “Just wondering.”

“He needed help figuring out the shower,” you explained.

“Glad he has you for that.”

You narrowed your eyes at the boy in the top bunk. He was trying to get under your skin. Why?

The ball was in your court. You could be the bigger person and let it go, or-

“He has me for a lot of things.” You pushed your tongue against your cheek so that there was a visible outline and brought your fist up to your mouth, moving it back and forth subtly so that he’d get the idea without being too obscene. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?"

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#instead of you #iou #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x bi!reader #tom holland series

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Chapter 4: Unexpected (Bonding)

Prev

AO3

Bruce Wayne felt lost. This wasn’t an unusual feeling for him, but he wasn’t particularly fond of the events that led to him feeling lost. First, he found out he had a daughter. Yet another child that he hadn’t known of their existence. Then, he acted as Batman. He researched the girl and found that her school situation was...less than ideal. As was the supervillain situation in Paris. The girl- his daughter- had been targeted several times. Sometimes the Akuma went after her from the start. Other times, she was unfortunate enough to be in its line of sight when it was on a rampage. Any way you looked at it, she was in danger. No, the biggest mistake in researching her came with the phone number for the bakery run by her parents. Two lovely people who had raised her and taught her right from wrong. Something he hadn’t done. Their phone call was what left him feeling lost. They hadn’t demanded that he stay away from his daughter- from Marinette. No, on the contrary, they thought it was a great idea for the two to bond. Especially once Bruce had mentioned his other children. 

“Marinette was distraught when the only information we could give her about her birth father was his name.” Sabine had said, adding to Bruce’s confusion. 

“You had my name but didn’t reach out?” Bruce asked, trying (and failing) to figure out the situation. 

“We didn’t have much to go on. Just your name and that you were American and worked in business. Bridgette didn’t give any specifics, and back then it didn’t really matter. I assumed Bruce Wayne was a common enough name, especially in the US.” Sabine replied simply. The rest of their conversation had gone similarly, with Bruce growing more and more lost until the end. They hadn’t even suggested a DNA test (though he was planning on asking Marinette, just so that they could be completely certain). They just wanted Marinette happy. Even if it meant meeting and bonding with the man who hadn’t known about her existence. 

---

Marinette Dupain Cheng was not having an easy week. No, her week was sucky. In fact it was beyond sucky, it was shitty. So many things were happening at the same time, and she was just grateful that she wasn’t currently in Paris, since she was certain she’d be akumatized. From being attacked by the Joker for simply looking like a Wayne, to meeting Batman who was just as angry in person, and then figuring out Bruce Wayne really was her dad and accidentally calling him Batman, to fighting an Akuma by herself (one that she could barely handle) and then to top it all off, Adrien is Chat Noir. And Adrien has a crush on her, as Marinette. And apparently has for at least a month. Oh and now he knows that she’s Ladybug and so last night was filled with her Chat Blanc nightmares all over again. The cherry on the top of this mess was the fact that the class was practically ignoring her. She was sure they weren’t doing it intentionally and that they were just kinda distracted by Lila’s tall tales of Gotham. Tales that include her dating one of Bruce Wayne’s sons. She wouldn’t clarify which one, which was probably for the best. They two closest to their age were 12 and 19. Neither a great option for the 15 year old Italian. A shrill ringing tugs Marinette out of her thoughts. Glancing down at the unknown number attempting to call her, Marinette silently prayed that this would turn her shitty week around. 

“Hello?” She answers, wincing slightly at the way her voice sounds after a night filled with screaming and crying from nightmares. 

“Is this Marinette Dupain Cheng?” A deep voice asks. Marinette frowns. 

“Um, yes?”

“Good. This is Bruce Wayne and well, I’m not sure how to-”

“You’re my dad.” She blurts out, face instantly heating up. “Oh crap, I mean, um-”

“Well yes. I do believe I may be your father. I was in contact with your parents earlier, to ask about boundaries and such. Your mother says that you had shown interest in meeting me and seeing how we’re similar?” He says, the question clear in his voice. Marinette opens her mouth to respond, then frowns. 

“Just like that? We’re gonna meet, just like that?” She asks, hoping that her distrustful tone doesn’t push the man away. 

“I’ll admit that I was going to ask if you would mind a paternity test. After speaking with your mother, I have no doubts, but I thought it might make you feel better. And of course, if you would prefer to just act as though I didn’t speak to your parents and go on with your trip, we can do that as well. I just- I was caught off guard, if I’m being honest.” Bruce Wayne- her father- says. 

“I’ll do it. I- I would like to get to know you. I can’t have a relationship with Bridgette, but if my parents are okay with it, I do want a relationship with you.” Marinette admits, holding her breath as she waits for an answer. There’s silence on the other end for a long moment, but just as Marinette’s about to apologize and tell him he can go and pretend she doesn’t exist, he answers. His voice a little softer this time. 

“I would like that.” 

---

The paternity test came out positive, to no one’s surprise. Bruce had given Marinette the option of meeting somewhere more public (like a restaurant or museum) to bond, or coming over to the manor. Not quite ready to deal with the possibility of paparazzi and the rumors (no matter how true they may be) that would stem from a public visit, Marinette agreed to going to the manor for dinner. Which is how she ended up sitting in silence in a town car with a man who seemed like he knew more than he was letting on. 

“So, you’re the one who raised Mr. Wayne?” Marinette asks, not quite ready to call the man “Dad” or any variation of the word. The man nods and she meets his eyes in the rearview mirror. 

“Indeed, Miss. I am Alfred Pennyworth.” The man, Monsieur Pennyworth, says calmly. She tries not to let the frustration that she feels building show on her face. She feels like she should know this man, like there’s something important that she’s just barely missing. 

“Have we met before?” Marinette finally asks, racking her brain as she tries to figure out why this man is so familiar to her. 

��I don’t believe so, Miss Dupain Cheng.” He says, and for the first time since meeting him, it doesn’t feel like he’s all knowing. Instead, it feels like he’s just as confused as she is. Drat. She opens her mouth to question him more, when the huge manor becomes visible in the distance. Eyes widening, Marinette forgets everything else and turns her attention to the beautiful architecture. The giant fence and metal gates do little to hide the massive house. Sections of the house rise above others, almost as if there are towers. Dozens of windows are visible, as is the giant fountain at the front of the house. Ripping her sketchbook out of her bag, Marinette immediately starts sketching out the ideas that attack her mind. Dresses and suits and skirts, all using the architecture in front of her for the basic shapes of the outfits. As the car goes past the gate and the gardens come into view, Marinette can’t hold back her shocked gasp. Shaped hedges and flowers, hundreds of different colored flowers, and trees and- it was beautiful. Almost too perfect. Like something that belonged in a movie. She jumps slightly as the car door is opened, Alfred standing on the other side with an eyebrow quirked up. Right. She was actually getting out of the car. And going into this massive house. And spending time with her biological- nope. She can’t do this. She can’t- 

“Miss Dupain Cheng, if it makes you feel any better, Master Bruce seems to have run into some traffic on his way back from the office. You’ll have a few minutes to gather your bearings inside before he arrives.” Alfred says softly. Relief washes over her and she nods, finally moving to get out of the car. 

“Thank you, Alfred.” She says, smiling at the man. He nods back at her before leading her up the steps to the door. He opens it and then steps back, allowing her to take a tentative step into the house. Her previous panic is pushed aside as she realizes the inside is just as gorgeous as the outside. Immediately turning back to her sketchbook, she tunes out the world around her and just stands in the foyer, scribbling furiously into her sketchbook. 

“Um, hi?” A voice says, making Marinette yelp and jump, eyes scanning her surroundings until they fall on a guy. A pretty tall guy. 

“Hi.” She says softly, also confused as to who this guy was. Not her- dad-biological father-other part of her DNA-father-Mr. Wayne- not anyone she had ever met, that’s for sure. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Dick Grayson.” The man says, extending his hand, a smile on his face. Anyone else probably would have thought the smile was sincere, but Marinette had always been good at reading emotions. And she could tell that he was wary of her. Why would he- oh. Grayson. As in, Richard Grayson, as in this man was her brother. Or, well, maybe he wouldn’t want to be. Maybe he would think that she’s ridiculous or that she’s just here to get money or here to try and pull apart Mr. Wayne’s family or maybe he would think that she was trying to take his place and she would never but maybe he would hate her and- She takes in a deep breath, trying desperately to ground herself and wishing she’d taken up Adrien’s earlier offer of him coming with. 

“I’m Marinette. Marinette Dupain Cheng.” She finally says, reaching out and shaking his hand. He nods, obviously still confused. So Mr. Wayne hadn’t mentioned her. Did he hate her? Did he ask her here to have her sign a NDA? Did he not want anything to do with her? Of course he wouldn’t, he obviously already had a family. A family that he chose, not one that he had by accident. His name was on her birth certificate, surely he would have found her sooner if he actually wanted anything to do with her? He chose Dick Grayson to be his son. He wanted him. He didn’t want Marinette. He-

“Ah, Marinette. I see you’ve met Dick.” The last voice she needed to hear says calmly as he walks through the door. Marinette swallows back the thickness in her throat, the one that tells her the tears will be starting soon. 

“Uh, yes. Mr. Wayne. Um, hi.” She says, flinching slightly when he winces. What did she do wrong this time? Was he really going to tell her to take a hike? If he didn’t hate her before, he surely did now. 

“Bruce, what’s going-” Dick starts to ask but is cut off by screaming voices getting closer to them.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Demon Spawn?” 

“Not my fault your blocking skills are subpar, Todd.”

“Sub- you almost stabbed me, you little shit!”

“Almost, yes. But I didn’t. I’m sure Father will be pleased with my restraint.” 

“You little fu-” “Boys!” Mr. Wayne finally yells as the two screaming walk into view. Both freeze and the younger one’s eyes instantly fall on Marinette, narrowing as he takes a defensive position. 

“Another one, Bruce, really?” The older one asks, making Marinette flinch back. Of course. Two more of his sons-her brothers- who he chose. Another two that he wanted. Not like her, someone he was going to be forced to know. Unless he told her tonight that he never wanted to speak to her again and made her sign a paper saying that she would never contact him again and then they would never have to worry about seeing her again and- oh this is a lot. 

“What were you two doing?” Mr. Wayne finally asks, and that’s when Marinette sees the weapons in their hands. And the blood on the older man’s shirt. The man turns slightly so that that part of his shirt is hidden when he notices her staring. 

“Uh, bonding?” He says, not at all convincing. 

“Who is that, Father?” The younger boy asks, the utter distaste clear on both his face and in his tone. And this is it. This is where he’s going to say that she’s no one, she’s nothing, and then he’s going to make her sign that stupid piece of paper and the last chance she has at knowing one of her biological parents is going to fly out the window. Poof. And then she’ll be so embarrassed, she won’t be able to go back on the trip and then she’ll have to change her name but she can’t completely run away yet because of stupid Hawkmoth and-

“This is Marinette, my daughter.” Well that was unexpected.

Next

Tag List: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo

#maribat bruce wayne #maribat #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat adrien agreste #maribat adrienette #maribat bio dad bruce #maribat bio dad au #maribat bio dad! bruce wayne month 2021 #maribat batfam #mbdbwm2021 #day four bonding #ao3fic

[mystic-shadows42]

Lover's Quarrel

A/N: It’s been awhile since I wrote a piece for the Vikings fandom. Hope I haven’t lost my touch. Hope you all enjoy! Also, this one is a little more focused on Hvitserk rather than Ivar.

Pairing: Hvitserk x reader x Ivar

Warnings: Violence and mention of impregnation

Summary: A betrayal starts it all off making Hvitserk hurt and angry beyond anything else. He wants to shed blood, yours more specifically but Ivar won’t have it. He has other plans for you.

“How can she do this to us?!” Hvitserk stood up making his chair fall behind him in his sudden anger. “We’ve broken bread with her family! She grew up with us!” He paced around the room then stopped. “I love her.”

Hvitserk was trying to make sense of his love’s betrayal. He thought you’d always choose him and his brother Ivar than ever go against them. He was wrong. You chose your family over them.

“We must stick to the plan.”

Ivar brought up his hands and placed them just under his chin. He was deeply saddened by your betrayal but he didn’t want to show his men or Hvitserk just how much it was affecting him.

He needed some time alone to think of a plan to bring you back to him. One that’ll bound you to him forever without making you hate him entirely.

Once the battle ensued, Hvitserk was the first to break free and display the land red. He was fuelled with anger which showed.

When he spotted you out on the battlefield fighting too he was dead-set on what he was to do. Ivar followed his line of sight and knew that Hvitserk wasn’t in the right state of mind to face you just yet.

Hvitserk was about to rush forward but was pushed back by Ivar. They were both high on adrenaline but Hvitserk more so than everyone else. He’d been cutting down men and women left and right.

“I’ll kill her! I’ll do it!” Hvitserk yelled out, making his voice break at the end. 

“No! No you won’t! I can’t let you!”

“She’s betrayed us!”

Ivar brought his head close to Hvitserk’s so he had his full attention.

“If you kill her then you’d never forgive yourself. I’d never forgive you if you do.” Hvitserk huffed at his brother but understood beyond his anger coursing through him. “Brother, look at me. I need you to listen. If you grab her we can take her as our hostage. She’s the key to all of this. Are you with me?”

“Yeah,” Hvitserk huffed.

“Do anything to get to her but don’t kill her. Got it?”

Hvitserk had a newfound intent on pursuing you. He was a man crazed with ambition.

He found your right-hand man and went toe-to-toe with him. He was a skilled warrior but Hvitserk had already configured his flaws.

He had a weak knee so that’s what he struck for. When he was brought down to the ground he wasted no time in finishing him off.

“Y/N!” Hvitserk yelled your name through the endless cries of battles. “Y/N!” He drawled out.

When you heard your name being shouted you turned to see Hvitserk standing on a hilltop by Ivar’s chariot. He held up your longtime friend’s head. He smiled displaying his blood stained mouth looking ever more menacing.

So many emotions racked through you at once. Though the sadness quickly turned to anger. You had spent many years training with the man Hvitserk killed. He was like family to you after having been placed by your side as a bodyguard.

Hvitserk watched on as he saw you striking everyone down that got in your way. He felt empowered to see how much of a fierce warrior you’ve become. He should know since he was the one who’d basically trained you.

Hvitserk jumped down from the hill he was on as you began to approach.

You faced each other down. He was breathing heavily with a bloody smile on his face. He kept gripping his sword in his hand. He was ready.

“You really want to do this?” It was never your intention to hurt him but for the sake of your people and family, what other choice did you have? 

You could have always told him, that thought had never left your mind but Hvitserk was none too good at confrontation. He wouldn’t want to hear it. He would avoid it until it got too much to handle.

Then there was Ivar. He was always someone you could confide in but as of late you didn’t know if he was on the verge of being power hungry or just mad altogether.

“You’ve left me no choice.”

“I did what I had to do for my family. You of all should understand that.”

He turned his head looking at all the blood and death that was surrounding him. He looked back at you and lifted his head in the direction of the chaos.

“All of this is happening because of that decision. If you’d been with us. Things could have been different.”

“It’s just the way things have to be.”

“Oh yeah,” he sniffled and started to circle around you. “Let’s see what you can do then.”

You raised your sword just as he did the same. Hvitserk tapped the tip of your sword smiling then he swung at you.

You blocked it and tried pushing him back with as much energy as you could muster up but he was forcing all his strength down on your sword. He brought you down to one knee as you continued to block his sword with yours.

When you knew you couldn’t hold out much longer, you kicked his leg out making him drop to the floor. You quickly scrambled on top of him with your sword to his neck making him laugh.

His small fit of laughter had soon died down when you made no other attempt to hurt him. He looked into your eyes and clenched his jaw.

“Did you ever love me?”

“Of course I did.”

“More than Ivar?” Hvitserk had never bothered to hide the fact that he was always jealous of his little brother.

“The same.” 

Hvitserk took your downcast look as an opportunity to flip you both over. He placed his hands over your neck shaking you.

“Tell me the truth?! After everything I’ve done for you! All that I shared! It was all for you! Now tell me who you loved more?”

He added more pressure onto your neck making you gasp. Tears were rushing from your eyes as you looked up at Hvitserk. 

It was unbelievable to think that just a few weeks ago he was staring down at you in this same position, only with kinder eyes and a gentler touch ready to leave his ways all behind and go away with you.

Ivar and Hvitserk shared you but as of late Hvitserk was starting to get more possessive. He was falling harder each time. He had always been with you.

Meanwhile, Ivar did break away to be with Freydis because he believed her when she spoke lies to him.

In that time, Hvitserk claimed you as his. He had never fallen so hard for one woman and the betrayal had hit him tenfold. He took it harder than anything else in his life.

When the time came that Ivar realized how rotten Freydis was, all he wanted was you back. He became obsessed with taking you away from Hvitserk.

“You,” your answer was quiet and strangled but Hvitserk heard. He pulled his hands away and looked at your face. “It was always you Hvitserk.”

Even in the midst of battle, Hvitserk leaned down and placed a small chaste kiss to your lips. You hadn’t reciprocated which didn’t go unnoticed.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke. Before you even had the chance to speak he hit your head against the ground rendering you unconscious. He picked you up over his shoulder and carried you to Ivar’s chariot.

Once he placed you inside, Ivar was quick to inspect your injury behind your head. He placed his hand on the spot where Hvitserk struck you. He brought his fingers up showing Hvitserk the blood on them.

“She’s bleeding.”

“How else did you expect her to come willingly?”

Hvitserk was beyond irritated and confused. He didn’t know what to think or feel about the whole situation. He loved you but the betrayal is what stopped him. He wanted to harden his heart.

“You’ve damaged her Hvitserk. I didn’t want her hurt or have any more reason for her to distrust us.”

“More than she already does?! Look where we are at. We are in battle. She’s already lost to us.”

“She isn’t lost on me. She could love me again.” Ivar brushed your cheek with his fingers gently. When he smiled down at your unconscious form Hvitserk couldn’t help but become even more annoyed.

“Whatever. When we get back we’ll have her chained.”

“Chained?” Ivar was appalled by his brother’s nonchalant response. “She will not be chained like some animal Hvitserk.”

“Where do you expect her to be held at?”

“My room. We’ll keep the doors locked at all times but she will be treated as a guest no doubt.”

“A prisoner treated like a guest?” Hvitserk scoffed at the idea.

“Brother you are so hostile.” Hvitserk was unamused. “I thought you loved her?”

“She betrayed us. Lied to me!” Hvitserk couldn’t help but kick up the dirt and throw one of his daggers at a tree.

“Funny, that’s what you did to me, yet, here we are. Truth is brother, despite all you’ve done against me, there was no doubt in my mind that I’d be the one to kill you but Y/N convinced me otherwise. She saved your life.” Hvitserk paused and turned to look at Ivar. This was all news to him. His features softened and his shoulders relaxed as he thought of how you would actually do that to save him. “Once you put a baby in her, she’ll forgive us.”

“What do you speak of Ivar?” Hvitserk narrowed his brows and approached the chariot slowly.

“You’ll be the one to put a baby in her.  As you know, I cannot have children nor provide any for her, but you can. If she has a baby with you then she cannot be against us.”

“You’re sick, Ivar.”

“Is it not your wish to fill her with babies and be the father of her children?”

Hvitserk rested his hand on top of the chariot as he leaned forward. “Not like that.”

“Only time will tell,” Hvitserk backed away when he saw his brother’s condescending smirk on his face. He never knew just how far he'd go until now.

Tagged: @belovedcherry​ @lordsexmachine​ @lol-haha-joke​ @mariaenchanted​ @ethereallysimple​ @bababasti​ @ir-abelas-telanadas​ @soleil-dor​ @youbloodymadgenius​

#Hvitserk x reader x Ivar #Hvitserk x reader #Ivar x reader #Hvitserk lothbrok #Ivar Lothbrok #Hvitserk #Ivar #Hvitserk ragnarsson #Ivar ragnarsson #Hvitserk imagine #Ivar imagine #Vikings

[tobesolonely]

kindergarten teachers

summary: teacher!harry and coworker y/n have a hard time coming to terms with their feelings for each other

a/n: ahhh she’s finally done! i’ve been working on this fic for sooo long and i hope u all like it! big thanks to @queencharry​ for helping me when i got stuck and beta reading, and @behindthatbabyface​ for beta reading as well and giving me feedback!! i appreciate u both <3 enjoy ~11.3k words of some mutual pining and teacher!h interacting with lil kindergarteners 🥺also i am sorry if theres any major grammar mistakes (as always) or crazy typos, i always miss some things when i go back and proofread that im sure i’ll catch later! thank u

warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol 

talk to me about harry and y/n! let me know your thoughts!!

my ko-fi! thank you :)

From the time you were very young, you knew you wanted to be a teacher. One of your earliest childhood memories was going to school dressed up as one for career day. Your usually untamed hair was pulled back into a sleek bun (courtesy of your mother), and you donned a funky baby-pink sweater. For bottoms, you wore the closest thing to a pencil skirt you had in your five-year-old wardrobe. When you look back on the photographs your mother took of you that day, you did not resemble a teacher in any way. You were sure if you had not done your Career Day presentation in front of the whole class, no one would have even known who you were dressed up as.

Once you moved onto college and declared Education as a major, that was when people really started to let you hear their opinions on the career path you wanted to pursue. It seemed like whenever you went home for a holiday, relatives were always in your ear saying, “You know teachers don’t make a lot of money, right? Have you ever considered something in the sciences?”. You always responded, “I know, but what would the world do without teachers?”.

Eventually, you finished your undergraduate career, successfully completed student teaching with the highest praise from your superiors and colleagues, obtained your teaching credentials, and even went back to school to get your Master’s degree. So, it was much to everyone’s surprise when you settled on being a Kindergarten teacher. People assumed that because you completed so much schooling, you wanted to be a university professor. However, the thought never even crossed your mind. You always thought Kindergarten teachers were the most impressionable people out there and knew you wanted to be one.

To you, there was no greater responsibility than that of a Kindergarten teacher. It was your responsibility to teach your students reading, writing, art, and music at the most basic level. You showed them how to play with others, how to be kind, and give them the tools necessary to succeed once they leave your classroom. You were the first teacher your students ever had, so you needed to make them fall in love with school instead of hate it, considering they’d have to stick to it until they were at least eighteen. 

You’ve been a credentialed Kindergarten teacher for the last three years, and you’ve loved every moment of it. You were one of the younger teachers at school, but you never felt left out. Your colleagues were amazing people who often shared tips and tricks they wish they knew when they first started teaching.

Now, you were groggily unlocking the door to your classroom, feeling those first-day-of-school jitters you always felt. You knew kindergarteners weren’t there to harshly critique you. Still, you wanted them to go home and tell their parents about how excited they were to have you as a teacher, not run home in tears. That never happened, of course, but you didn’t want to take any chances. You drop your keys and mutter a quiet, “Shit!” setting your travel mug filled with coffee on the ground and readjust the box of donuts you had for your kids on your hip. As you reach for your keys, you hear a deep voice ask if you need help. You quickly turn around, eyes wide from being startled.

“Oh! You scared me,” you place your free hand over your chest. “But yeah, actually, that’d be great. I’m struggling to get my door open.” The man nods, his own keys he wore around his neck jangling as he retrieves first your keys, then your coffee mug.

“I’m Harry– Mr. Styles, if you want,” he holds your keys out for you to take, your coffee mug still in his large hands. “Uh, I’m the new Kindergarten teacher.” You give him a confused look and trade the box of donuts in your arms for your keys, opening the door. “The last one, Mrs. Brown, I think it was, I guess she decided a few weeks back that she wanted to retire.” You get your door open and walk inside your classroom, turning on the lights. It was a little stuffy, considering you hadn’t been there to open any windows in about a month.

“Oh, that’s right! Welcome,” you give him a warm smile. “I’m Y/N– Miss Y/L/N if you want.” A slight blush appears on his cheeks. “We’re gonna be working together then, it seems. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Mrs. Brown, but it’ll be nice to collaborate with someone closer to my age, you know?” Harry nods, and you realize he still had your coffee mug and box of donuts in his hands. “You can just set that on my desk, thanks for helping out. Would you like a donut?”

“Um, I- it’s okay,” he stammers, setting the items down. “Sorry, it’s just that I’ll probably crash if I have a donut first thing in the mornin’.” You smile at him and move to open all your windows and the back door, wanting the stuffy classroom to air out a bit before the children got here. 

“I totally get that,” you giggle, walking back over to your desk. “Are you excited about the first day? I always get a little nervous. I also talk a lot when I’m nervous, I’m sure you caught onto that.” 

For the first time that morning, Harry laughs. “Yeah, I’m nervous, too. ’ve never taught in the States before, so this is a bit new to me.” He’s playing with the keys hanging from his lanyard. 

“I noticed you had an accent, but I didn’t know if it was weird to ask about it. What brings you to California?” You open the box of donuts and take one out, wanting to eat it before it gets cold, and the glaze hardens.

“Uh, I went to University here, but when I graduated, I decided to go back home and teach for a couple of years. I really missed being here though and wanted to come back, so I got my credentials, and uh, here I am,” he tells you with a grin, and you notice he has deep dimples. 

“Well, we’re glad you’re here,” you tell him earnestly. “The kids are just gonna love your accent, too!” you joke and Harry laughs for the second time that day. 

“If all else fails, ’m hopin’ to charm everyone over with my accent,” he stares at you for a moment before speaking again. “Well, I better finish getting situated. It’s fifteen til, and I reckon the children will be arriving soon, yeah?” He asks. You nod. 

“Best to be waiting at parent drop-off too, there are always a few parents that are just as nervous as their babies, if not more, and could use a quick pep talk.”

“Thanks for lettin’ me know. I was thinking about standing out there anyway, just to make a good first impression.” You take another bite of your donut, giving him a thumbs up. 

“You’ve got this, Harry. I know you’re not completely clueless since you’ve taught before, but I know the first day can be a little intimidating. You know where I am if you need anything.” He gives you a grateful smile, quietly thanking you before turning to walk out the door. You’re left thinking about your new coworker, only being pulled from your thoughts of him when the first bell rings.

“Good morning everyone, my name is Miss Y/L/N. Are you all excited to get this school year started?” A chorus of high-pitched yeses fills the room, and you smile warmly at your class. “I’m so excited that you’re all here! I have a little surprise for each of you!” You grab the box of donuts and walk back to the rug in the center of the room that the children usually sat on for storytime. Little gasps fill your ears, and they all say, “Donuts!” and “Yummy!”. You smile at the kids again, already feeling overwhelmed with how adorable they were. 

“We all get a donut?” one little girl asks, her eyes wide. You nod at her.

“Of course! Everyone will get a donut, sweetie.” You move to get the plastic food gloves you kept so you can safely hand out a donut to everyone. “Okay guys, I’m going to pass a stack of napkins around the room. Take one and pass the stack to the person sitting next to you. Does that make sense?” All the students nod their heads in confirmation, so you grab a stack and hand them to the child sitting closest to you. “Once the last person has their napkin, let me know, and then it’ll be donut time!” You say this over-enthusiastically, and the children squirm in their seats in excitement.

As you go around handing out donuts to each of your students, you learn their names and ask them to tell you one fun fact about them. Most children say things like, “I have a brother/sister!” or “I can run really fast!”, and you find it absolutely adorable. One thing you loved the most about teaching five-year-olds was their ability to think everything was cool. It was comforting to know that no matter what you did, they’d find you cool, and your first-day jitters quickly dissipated. As the children eat their donuts, you read them a story, putting on different voices for all the various characters. You show them how to raise their hand when they have something they’d like to share and remind them to use their “listening ears” when you or one of their classmates are speaking.

When it’s time for recess, you show them how to line up quietly at the door, and assign a line leader and a hall monitor. You remind the children that they will all get a turn at these tasks eventually because it’ll switch every week, and not to worry. As you’re walking down the hall backward (one of your teachers walks that you’d finally perfected), you hear Harry’s voice.

“Okay Room Ten, we’re gonna go out to the playground now, where you all will get to play every recess and lunch. That sounds like fun, doesn’t it?” He asks them, and you hear little voices chattering out to him in excitement. You can’t help but peek into his classroom as you walked by, as his door was open. He didn’t see you because he was busy organizing his class into a straight line, so you keep going. Your class, who, much to your surprise, was walking very quietly, got loud once they saw the Kindergarten play area had a slide and monkey bars.

“We get to play on this?” one of your students, Destiny, questions. 

“Yup! This is a pretty cool play area, isn’t it?” They nod and stare at you, waiting for direction. “Oh, you can all go play and run around, get some of that energy out. When the bell rings, though, I want you to listen to the yard teachers because they’re gonna help get you all lined back up so we can go back inside. Deal?” The children give you nods and thumbs up, and you grin at them, telling them to have fun and be nice to one another. As you’re turning to go to the teacher’s lounge to refill your mug of coffee, you see Harry walking down the hallway with his class, and decide to wait for him. He gives his class the same spiel you gave yours and tells them to “Treat each other with kindness” before noticing you waiting for him.

“Hey,” he gives you a grin, looking far more relaxed than he did when you saw him earlier that morning. “How’s it going so far?”

“It’s great,” you reply, leading him in the direction of the teacher’s lounge. “They’re all adorable.”

“Yeah, don’t know what I was so nervous fo’. They’re great. Also, you’re right,” Harry has an amused look on his face. “The first thirty minutes of ’em bein’ there was just them askin’ me to say things because they think I sound funny.” 

“I told you!” you exclaim, laughing at him. “A British accent is definitely not something we hear every day, not here at least.”

“I figured,” he replies, and silence falls between you. “Where are we going, by the way?”

You stop in front of a blue door and sift through the keys on your lanyard, finally finding the one you were looking for. “Teacher’s lounge. Have you had the chance to check it out yet?” He shakes his head, and you pull open the door after having unlocked it. “After you.” He shakes his head and steps back, signaling you go ahead of him. You quirk an eyebrow at him, and he gives you a defensive look.

“What? ‘M a gentleman. Ladies first,” he insists, holding the door open. You walk inside the room, trying to refrain from rolling your eyes. There aren’t many teachers in the lounge. You figure they all must be in their classrooms, trying to do some last-minute organization and lesson planning amidst the first day of school chaos. However, a few colleagues that you’re rather fond of are in the room, so you take it upon yourself to introduce them to Harry.

“Hello everyone, I hope you’re all having a relaxing morning!” They chuckle lightly at your sarcasm. “I’d like you all to meet Mr. Harry Styles. He’s the new Kindergarten teacher that took Mrs. Brown’s place.” A look of realization washes over all three teachers’ faces, and they warmly greet him. Harry goes around, shaking each of their hands, voice dripping with charm.

“Lovely to meet you all. Looking forward to collaborating,” he tells them quietly. They begin engaging in polite conversation, so you leave Harry’s side, walking over to the coffee station to get what you came for before recess was over. He joins you shortly after, grabbing a disposable cup. “They were a nice bunch.” He mutters, pouring the steaming coffee into his cup. You hum in agreement.

“Everyone here is nice. The lounge is usually much more crowded than this. Everyone else must be in their rooms,” you flick your wrist up to check the time. “We got some time to sit down and breathe for a bit if you’d like? Unless you wanted to get back to your room.”

“‘M in no rush, trust me,” he tells you, flashing you a small smile. “Let’s take a seat.” Harry walks over to an unoccupied couch and sits down slowly, taking care not to spill his coffee. 

“You didn’t want a lid?” you question when you see him struggling. He shrugs.

“Not necessary. Jus’ some extra plastic,” you hum and look down at your lap. You were quickly learning that Harry was not a big talker, and he liked to get his point across in as few words as possible. Him being a Kindergarten teacher contradicted heavily with his rather bashful demeanor, but that just made him all the more endearing to you.

“Do you live nearby, or is your commute long?” you ask him after a few moments of silence. As soon as you ask the question, you internally cringe, feeling like it was too invasive. If Harry thought the question was weird, he doesn’t show it.

“I live in town. I actually walked here today, believe it or not,” he tells you with a chuckle. “Was such a beautiful morning that I figured I should.” Every time you think Harry can’t possibly get any more captivating, he does, and you find yourself biting back a smile.

“How long is your walk?” You cross your legs and then uncross them, a nervous habit that you had. Harry takes a sip of coffee, mulling your question over.

“I’d say it took me about twenty minutes. I was walkin’ at a pretty leisurely pace, though,” Harry shrugs. “How about you? Do you live nearby?”

“I also live in town, but I’m way too lazy to walk, so props to you,” you smile. “The best thing about living around here is seeing your kids out in public. It’s the cutest thing.” Harry smiles, not saying anything else. A silence falls over the two of you again but instead of feeling the need to fill it, you just sit beside him, drinking your coffee. Your mind wanders off to what you were going to do for the rest of the school day, if you had enough groceries in your apartment for dinner or if you should go grocery shopping after work, and if you remembered to pay your bills on time. The bell rings to signify the end of recess, and you jump slightly.

“Ready to go back?” Harry asks, standing up and walking back over to the coffee station. “Think’m gonna get a bit more.” You go to stand by the door, waiting for him to pour another cup of coffee. He quickly rejoins you, and the coffee sloshes a bit, some getting on his hand, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Hope those lil’ buggers got some of their energy out.”

“Right! Mine was even more hyper than they probably would’ve been ’cause I gave them those donuts this morning,” you laugh. “So, for my sake, I hope so too.” When you and Harry arrive back at the Kindergarten play area, your classes are already lined up quietly awaiting instruction, thanks to the yard teachers. You and Harry both thank them and move to stand in front of your kids. 

“Miss Y/L/N,” one of your children calls out from the back of the line. “Can we get more donuts when we go back inside?” You see Harry smile out of the corner of your eye as he’s giving instruction to his class.

“There are no more donuts, you guys ate them all! I have something even cooler than donuts planned for us, though, okay? Now, remember what I told you all about walking quietly, right? Mr. Line Leader, how does your line look? Do you think we’re all set to go back inside?” The child you appointed line leader turns around to look at everyone, occasionally shushing some people. After a few moments, he turns back to you, giving you a thumbs up. 

Harry moves to stand beside you, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Wanna eat lunch together and do some planning? I feel like it would be a good idea for us to be teachin’ the same things, more or less.” Your body feels warm all over, and you just look at him and nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Harry smiles and places a hand on your shoulder. At a normal volume, he says, “See you then, Miss Y/L/N.” 

Upon entering Harry’s room, you’re immediately met with the scent of vanilla and the loud hum of the air conditioning. It was bright, adorably decorated, and surprisingly decluttered. It was the polar opposite of your room, and you found it very welcoming and comforting. “Nice set-up you’ve got going on in here,” you tell him. He jumps in his seat at his desk, not having heard you come in.

“Fucks sake,” he mumbles, face going red. “You scared me. Thanks, though. My sister helped me decorate, I don’t really have an eye for this type of stuff.” He rubs the back of his neck, sheepishly. 

“Well, if you ever need any help decorating for back to school and your sister isn’t around, I’d be more than happy to help.” Harry smiles and suddenly gets up from his chair, offering it to you.

“Please, take my seat. I’ll just sit in one of the kids’ chairs,” he rolls it towards you, and you shake your head, about to object, but he interrupts you. “It’s okay, Y/N. Their chairs aren’t that bad.” You take the seat Harry was just in, mumbling a quiet thank you. He hums and pulls a tiny chair up beside you, legs scraping loudly across the floor. When he sits down in it, you can’t but burst out laughing.

“Harry, that chair is so tiny! Are you sure you don’t want me to sit there instead? You look so uncomfortable,” you tell him in between laughs. “This is your classroom, after all, I’m just a guest.” Harry shakes his head, cheeks flushed.

“It’s okay, Y/N, really. ‘M perfectly comfortable in this lil’ miniature chair,” he looks at the lunch bag you sat on his desk. “What’s for lunch?” You reach for your sack and unzip it, pulling out a pre-packaged salad from Trader Joe’s.

“I’m very lazy when it comes to packing my lunches,” you admit sheepishly, pulling out a fork. “How about you? Did you eat already?”

“Oh yeah, I had a green smoothie. Not a big lunch guy,” he replies calmly. “Wanna get started with planning? I think we only have about thirty minutes left.” He looks down at his watch to confirm the time. Harry opens his planner, and you see pages filled with his neat, blocky scrawl. He jumps right into talking about the ideas he had in mind, excitement filling his voice that you haven’t yet heard. 

The passion and enthusiasm he has for teaching are evident through the way he tells you about the activities he has planned, new materials and teaching methods he wants to try implementing, and things he’s tried before that didn’t work out the way he wanted them to. He asks you for your advice and listens intently when you speak, jotting down notes.

You find yourself having to mentally remind yourself not to stare at him. He was a handsome man– there was no denying that. He had curly brown hair, soft and wild-looking, the most beautiful green eyes you’d ever seen, and arms covered in tattoos. You also noticed he had the tiniest cross on his left hand. You wanted to ask him about it, but you figured that was a conversation for another time. 

“Y/N? Did you hear what I just said,” Harry asks, giving you a concerned look. “Are you alright? I think you just zoned out for a couple minutes or somethin’.” You nod quickly, feeling your palms growing sweaty.

“Oh yeah, sorry, I was just thinking about something I have to do later. What did you just say?” You play off how you were just wholly drooling over your new coworker, feeling scrutinized under his piercing gaze.

“Jus’ got an email from the principal. Said we have a faculty meetin’ after school at three. Wanna go together?” He asks. You know Harry’s asking you to accompany him primarily because you’re the only person he really knows so far. However, it still makes you feel warm and special. “He said we’re gonna go over some planning for the Fall Festival. What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s just the back-to-school festival. It’s adorable,” you explain. “It’s like a mini carnival that we have right here on the playground. Every year they have teachers host booths. It’s a great way to get to meet your kids’ parents and bond with the other faculty.” Harry nods, standing up from the tiny chair right as the bell signifying the end of lunch rings.

“That sounds lovely,” he chirps, smiling down at you. “We’re gonna have the best booth out of everyone Y/N, trust me.” He jokes, the corner of his eyes crinkling. This was the most Harry had talked since you met him that morning and you were enjoying witnessing him open up to you more and more with each conversation shared.

“It is,” you stand up as well, gathering your trash and empty lunch pail. “Thanks for having me, Harry. Next time we can meet in my room. I wouldn’t mind making this a daily thing.” As soon as the words came out of your mouth, you physically wince, figuring Harry had to think you were obsessed with him at this point. He looks down, the corners of his mouth upturned when he makes eye contact with you again.

“I’d like that, Y/N. I’ll actually start bringin’ a proper lunch, so you’re not the only one eating,” you smile. “I’ll meet you in your room after school?” You nod in confirmation, walking out the door in front of him. 

“See ya later.”

“Did everyone have a good day today?” You ask your class, walking backward to the dismissal gate. You’re met with a chorus of cheerful sounding ‘yeses,’ and you place your hand over your heart in a dramatic fashion. “That makes me so happy, everyone! You’re all incredible little people, and I think we’re gonna have a fantastic year. What do you guys think?” The children chatter excitedly, glad to have made it through their first day of school and see their parents on the other side of the gate eagerly awaiting them, cell phones snapping pictures. 

Harry’s already at the gate, waiting for the bell to ring so he can dismiss his class. He’s walking down the line asking each of the children if they see who they’re supposed to go home with, crouching down to their height so they can point them out to him. Some children in his class look a little upset because they don’t see their parents yet. Harry quickly consoles them, telling them they can all play a fun game together while they wait for their ‘Mummies and Daddies.’

You do the same with your kids, and by the time the bell rings and you finish dismissing the ones who saw someone there to pick them up, there was one child from your class who was still waiting and two from Harry’s. He walks over to you, one of their tiny hands in each of his. The boy looks unbothered, but the girl was beginning to cry.

“Hey, Ava, should we ask Miss Y/L/N and her friend if they want to play iSpy with us? The more, the merrier, isn’t that right?” He looks down at her, and she nods, looking down. You figure she’s one of his more shy students he was telling you about earlier.

“Hi, sweetie! I’m Miss Y/L/N, are you waiting for your mom or dad?” She nods, biting her lip. You turn and gesture to your one student who was waiting as well. “Well, so is she! Don’t worry, they’ll be here.”

“I’m Matthew,” the little boy holding Harry’s other hand informs you, shifting from foot to foot. You give him a big smile.

“Hello, Matthew! I love your Spiderman shirt; he’s just the coolest. Jade, do you want to introduce yourself to Mr. Styles, Ava, and Matthew? Remember when we learned about introductions today in class? When you got to introduce yourself to all your classmates?”

Jade nods, a big, toothy grin on her face. “Hi! My name is Jade, and I am five-years-old but my birthday is September 19th, so I’m actually almost six-years-old,” she tells them matter-of-factly. “It’s very nice to meet you!” She adds, remembering the script you gave them earlier. Harry looks down at her, an impressed look on his face.

“Well, it is very lovely to meet you too, Jade! Do we all know how to play iSpy?” Jade and Matthew shout in excitement, but Ava just grips tighter onto Harry’s hand. He looks down at her again. “Do y’ want Miss Y/L/N and I to show you how to play, Ava?” His voice is very quiet, slow, and soothing. She nods, letting go of his hand.

“Well Ava,” you say, looking around for something to start the game out with. “I would say, “I spy with my little eye something green. Then you, Mr. Styles, Matthew, and Jade, would have to look around and name out everything that’s green. If you name something and it’s not it, then I will tell you nope, and you can try again, but if you figure it out, then you’re the winner! Does that make sense?”

She nods, and you see a gleam of excitement in her eyes. “Can I go first?” She asks quietly. You tell her, yes, and she looks around quickly, trying to find something to say. “I spy with my little eye something blue!” She has a triumphant smile on her face, and even though you immediately know she’s talking about the sky and you’re sure Harry does too, you both decide to take a step back and let the children take the game into their own hands.

“Y’know, that lil’ introduction Jade gave was really somethin’. I didn’t even think about teachin’ my kids that. Think I’ll try that out tomorrow,” Harry whispers, craning his neck slightly to be at your ear. You shiver at the feeling of his warm breath against your skin. 

“Yeah, I feel like that’s always a good first day of school activity for them to do. A lot of them have never really been exposed to people outside of their immediate family, so they’re not too sure how to talk to others.” Harry hums, standing back up straight.

“Mr. Styles,” Matthew calls, running over to Harry. “My mommy is here. Can I go now?” Harry nods, telling Matthew to wait for him so he can say hi to his mother. You watch as he walks away, overhearing as he tells the boy’s mother what a great job he did today and how he’s so excited to go through this school year with him in his class. Ten minutes later, Jade and Ava are gone as well, and Harry locks the dismissal gate. 

“I forgot how exhausting the first day could be,” he tells you, letting out a quiet sigh. “Ready to go to that meeting, though? It’s just about three.” You check your watch and see the time read at 2:57 PM.

“Yeah, just let me grab my bag, and we can head over there. I’m really hoping this won’t take too long; I was planning on going grocery shopping after this,” you walk down the hall towards your classroom and feel Harry’s gaze on you.

“Where do you like to go grocery shopping?” he asks after a few moments of silence. “I need to pick up some groceries this week, too. ’ve been eatin’ takeout for the past week, and I’m starting to feel like shit.” You laugh, unlocking your door. Harry stands outside, holding it open while you grab your purse and lunch bag.

“Honestly, I don’t have a preference. I switch it up a lot,” you shrug, making sure all the windows are closed before walking out. “Was there something, in particular, you were looking for?”

“Uh,” Harry scratches the back of his head. “No? Maybe you could text me a list of all your favorite stores, though. Jus’ so I won’t forget.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him, ignoring how fast your heart was beating. “Are you asking for my number, Mr. Styles?”

“I guess I am,” he replies nonchalantly. “We’re gonna be workin’ together a lot. Might as well have your number– if that’s okay, I mean.” He looks down at you.

“Yeah, remind me after the meeting,” you tell him, trying your hardest to play it cool. “Don’t let me forget.”

“Trust me, I won’t.”

“So Y/N and Harry, you two will be in charge of the pumpkin decorating booth? Is that right?” The principal looks down at his notes and then shifts his gaze between the both of you. You both nod.

“Yeah, I’m excited! I think it’ll be a lot of fun,” you reply excitedly. “We can go to the craft store and get a bunch of paints, but where do you think the best place to get the pumpkins would be?” You pull out your planner, ready to jot down any suggestions.

“You two could try going to a pumpkin patch? They’re starting to pop-up around town,” one teacher suggests. “I’m sure if you purchased a bunch and told them it was for a school event, we could get some kind of deal.” The rest of the faculty buzzes in agreement.

“Y/N and Harry, could you get to a pumpkin patch sometimes this week and see if they can give us an estimate of how much it would cost? Then I could let the PTA know.” You and Harry confirm that it will be possible to do sometime this week, and the meeting continues on.

By the time you’re finally free to leave the meeting, it’s already growing dark outside. Harry’s hands are shoved in his pockets, and he’s looking down at his feet. “So–”

“Do you want–”

You both stop, laughing awkwardly. “You go first.” you tighten the grip on your purse.

“Uh, I was jus’ gonna ask if I could get your number now. Yanno, so we can plan when we’re gonna go get all the stuff for our booth? And you still gotta tell me what your favorite grocery stores are,” he has a playful look in his eyes. For the thousandth time that day, your hands become clammy. There was just something about every interaction you had with him that made you so nervous. 

“Oh yeah,” you answer coolly, digging in your purse for your phone. “Just text your number, so I have it.” You hand him his phone, and he stops dead in his tracks, a look of concentration on his face. 

“I can’t walk and be on the phone at the same time,” he mutters when he looks back up and realizes you were watching him the whole time. “I don’t know how people do it.” He hands you back your phone. “What were y’ gonna ask me?”

“I was just um, I was gonna ask if you wanted me to give you a ride home? I mean, since you walked to work today and it’ll be dark soon,” talking to Harry made you feel like a nervous school girl interacting with her first crush, and you hated that feeling.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that–”

“It’s no bother, really,” you cut him off, and you realize you sound a little eager, but at that point, you didn’t even care. “I’m sure we don’t live too far from each other.” Harry looks slightly unsure but nods, and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

“If you’re sure, Y/N. I appreciate it, I owe you one,” he’s following behind you to the teacher parking lot. You silently pray your car isn’t messy inside like it usually is as you approach it. You decide to pick up your pace and walk ahead of him, telling yourself if the passenger side was messy, you’d just quickly throw everything in the back. “Heyyyy, why’re you walkin’ so fast? Are you sure you’ve got the time to take me home?” He takes a few big strides and quickly catches up with your hurried, tiny ones.

“Yeah, of course, I have time,” you respond, unlocking your car as you approach it. “If it’s messy, then just ignore it.” you preface, honestly not remembering the state in which you left your car this morning when you walked into work.

“Don’t worry about it. You should see mine,” Harry jokes, and it immediately puts you at ease. As you’re about to open your door, Harry quickly rushes to your side, opening it himself. “Let me.” 

His hand rests over yours, and you quickly pull it away, your body heating up. “Harry, I’m already right here. I can open my own car door.” 

“I know you can. But I’m a gentle—“ 

“You’re a gentleman, I know,” you playfully roll your eyes and take a step back, allowing Harry to open your car door all the way. You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t flattered and honestly a little bit turned on. He flashes you a smile as you situate yourself behind the wheel of the car and makes sure you’re all the way in before slamming it shut. You see him lightly jog around to the passenger side, and soon enough, he’s beside you, your car immediately starting to smell like his cologne. 

“What music do you like to listen to?” Harry asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket. 

“You ask me a lot of random questions, Harry,” you reply, looking behind you as you slowly back out. 

“Is it a crime to wanna get to know my new coworker?” you can hear a smile in his voice. “C’mon. What’s your favorite music to listen to?” 

You shrug, looking both ways before exiting the parking lot. “Where do you live?” 

“I don’t know my address yet. Just take a left at this light coming up. Favorite music?” Out of the corner of his eye, you see him scrolling through his music library. 

“You don’t know your address yet?” 

“No. I’ll play something random,” he says, tapping his hand on his knee. “You can take a right at that stop sign up there.” You put on your blinker and glance over your shoulder before switching lanes. Harry quickly pairs his phone with your Bluetooth, and a song you’re unfamiliar with blares through your speakers. Neither one of you says anything else, only speaking to each other when he’s giving you directions to his house, and you’re confirming what he said.

After two more songs, Harry says, “S’right up here.” He’s led you to a beautiful apartment complex— one you were looking at when you were moving out of your parent’s home but just couldn’t afford as a new graduate. You expertly parallel park and then turn the car off, a silence falling between the two of you.

“This is a nice complex,” you tell him after a moment. “Really close to school. I see why you opted to walk to work today.” 

“Mhm,” he hums. His seatbelt is still fastened. “I understand if you’re busy, but did you wanna come in?” You raise an eyebrow at him, and he quickly backtracks. “I mean— it’s just— remember the activity you taught your kids today? About introductions? Jus’ wanted to know if you could walk me through it, that’s all.” 

“Oh. Well yeah, I can hang out for a bit.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and reach in the backseat for your purse that you threw haphazardly over your shoulder earlier. 

“Will your boyfriend be okay with you coming in, though?” He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“What makes you think I have a boyfriend?” You’re slightly taken aback and oddly flattered that he thought you were in a relationship.

“I dunno,” his face grows red. “You got all weird when I opened doors for ya. Figured you had a boyfriend.”

“I don’t.”

“Cool.” More silence falls, this time an awkward one.

“Should we go inside now?” you unlock the doors, quickly getting out of the car. Harry follows behind you and waits for you to walk onto the sidewalk before going up the walkway.

“How close do you live to me?” Harry asks, punching in his gate code. He pulls the gate open and gestures for you to go ahead of him. You decide not to comment on it this time.

“A couple blocks away. I could probably walk over here if I was in the mood to,” Harry shuts the gate behind you and walks over to the first set of stairs, taking them two at a time. “I was interested in this complex when I was moving out of my parents’ but I settled on something else.” He hums, stopping in front of the first door at the top of the stairs. There’s a brown ‘Welcome!’ mat outside his door, along with a few potted plants.

“Here we are,” he looks over his shoulder as if he’s checking if you’re still there. “Excuse the boxes. ‘M not done unpacking yet.” He pushes open the door and steps in, quickly turning on the light. You’re met with the same sweet scent of vanilla that’s in his classroom. Considering he was in the process of unpacking, his apartment was reasonably tidy.

“It looks good in here,” your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. You were in your coworker’s house that you just met that day, and you could already feel yourself developing a crush on him. There was obviously no way you’d let this relationship progress past anything strictly professional, but that didn’t mean you weren’t allowed to admire his beauty.

“Thanks,” he gives you a smile, relief washing over his face. “You can set your bag down if you want. Take a seat, make yourself at home.” He leaves the room, and you hear him rattling around in the kitchen. “Can I get you anything to drink? Wine? Coffee? Tea?”

“Coffee sounds great,” you reply. You set your purse down on his coffee table and sit on the edge of his couch, inspecting his living room closer. There were two books on the table, both flipped upside down as a way to mark his page. There were a few more plants inside, similar to the ones in front of his door. There was a framed picture of him with two beautiful women you assumed to be his mother and sister. Harry comes back into the room a few minutes later, two steaming cups of black coffee in hand.

“Here you are, Miss Y/L/N,” he puts on an exaggerated posh accent, and you giggle.

“Why thank you, Mr. Styles,” you respond in the same voice. “Do you have cream and sugar?”

He wrinkles his nose. “I think I might have sugar. Is oat milk, okay? I don’t have cream.” He goes back to his kitchen to retrieve the items before you can tell him it’s okay, and you’ll just drink it black. You thank him, pouring the tiniest splash of oat milk into your coffee. You can feel his eyes on you as you add a bit of sugar, stir, taste, and then add some more.

“So,” you begin after your coffee is made to your liking. “What did you think about your first day? You can be honest since we’re not on campus anymore.” Harry laughs, looking down at his fingernails.

“Uh,” he starts. You notice he says, ‘uh’ a lot. “It was terrific. Not so sure I would’ve felt the same way if I didn’t have you to help me through it.” 

“We’re partners in crime now, Harry. We’re the two Kindergarten teachers, and you’re the only other person there my age? We’ve definitely gotta stick together,” you give him a big smile. He doesn’t smile back but looks a bit troubled instead. You wait for him to speak, coming to accept that long pauses were just a thing when having a conversation with Harry.

“Y’know how I assumed you had a boyfriend earlier? I thought after I’d said that–– rather I hoped after I said that you’d be like,” he clears his throat. “‘Why, no! I don’t have a boyfriend. Do you have a girlfriend?’” He put on the worst American accent you’d ever heard to imitate your voice, causing you to laugh. “To which I would’ve replied with a simple ‘no.’” 

Now it’s your turn to leave Harry wondering what you’re thinking for the first time all day. You can feel his eyes on you as you look at his couch cushions, noticing a bit of crumbs that you hadn’t seen before. “Are you flirting with me?”

“I think you’re beautiful.”

“You don’t even know me. We just met today.”

“Does that mean I can’t think you’re beautiful?”

You bite your lip, feeling yourself starting to grow a bit turned on by his forwardness. There was a part of you that would risk it all for just one night in bed with Harry because you just found him that attractive. The rational, adult side of you was screaming, ‘Don’t mix business with pleasure!’. By now, you had both moved closer on the couch to one another, knees nearly touching. “I think you’re beautiful, too.” He grins, setting his coffee cup down. You do the same.

“Would it be crazy of me to tell you that I really wanna kiss you right now?” His face is mere inches from yours, so close that you could smell the coffee on his breath. You shake your head.

“No. I really wanna kiss you too.”

“C’ mere, then.” 

Harry leans forward a bit more until his lips are ghosting over yours. You pull at the collar of his shirt, bringing his already close body even closer to yours. His lips are softer than they look, and he’s a better kisser than you thought he’d be, too. He brings his hands up to tangle them in your hair, and that’s when you abruptly pull away, not wanting things to go too far. “We shouldn’t…” He looks at you with sad eyes, but he nods, understanding what you mean.

“Probably not the best idea?” his response comes out as more of a question than a statement, but you nod in agreement anyway.

“Definitely not. I’m um–– I’m actually gonna go,” you stand up, slinging your purse over your shoulder. “Thanks for the coffee, Harry. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see––”

You’re out the door, rushing down the stairs before he can even finish his sentence.

The rest of the school week goes on without either one of you mentioning it. It’s a little awkward for a couple of days, but by the time Friday rolls around, both of you decide the best course of action to take regarding the kiss would be to act like it never happened. 

You’re in your room at lunch hanging up your kids’ artwork they made during their ‘Free Time’ this morning, having declined Harry’s lunch invitation for the fourth time that week. You decided to pretend to be busy with work so you wouldn’t be too tempted to go into his room. To most people, you’re sure it looked like you were avoiding him–– and maybe you were. However, you were trying to get over this crush on him in the best way that you knew how.

“Need some help?”

You jump, nearly falling backward off the stepstool you were on. “Holy shit, Harry! You scared the hell out of me!” You feel your body getting warm, and you quickly look away, not wanting him to see how flustered you were.

“Sorry, you weren’t answering my texts, so I decided to come see what you were up to,” he walks over to where you were standing and hands you a piece of art, smiling at it before handing it to you. “You’ve got some artists in your class.”

“Mhm,” you hum, not looking him in the eyes. You hear him let out a quiet sigh.

“Still able to go see about getting those pumpkins ordered after work?”

You had completely forgotten that you and Harry decided today would be the day you’d go get the pumpkin situated figured out for your booth. For a second, you consider making an excuse to get out of it, but you decide against it. This was something that both of you were asked to do, not just him, and you didn’t want the fact that you let your attraction to him cloud your judgment getting in the way of your professional responsibilities.

“Yeah, that works.”

He doesn’t say anything, and even though you’re not looking at him, you can see the gears in his head turning. “Should we talk––” 

You’re quite literally saved by the bell, the end of lunch interrupting where you knew he was about to lead the conversation. “I’ll see you after school? Did you walk here again? I can drive.” Harry nods slowly.

“Uh, yeah. he replies. “I walked. Uh, ’m gonna go get my kids. See you after school then?”

“Yup!” you respond, fake enthusiasm in your voice. Harry gives you one more look before walking out of your room. You wait until he’s all the way down the hall before following behind him to bring your class back inside. You knew you were the one making things awkward between you and Harry. However, the realistic part of you knew getting involved with your coworker was one of the worst ideas you’d ever had in your life. For now, you’d just tell yourself that you were probably more into Harry than he was into you and pray that would be enough to make you get over your crush.

“I haven’t been to a pumpkin patch since I was a kid.” Harry stuffs his hands farther into his pockets while yours are tightly hugging your chest. You hum, not saying anything. The car ride there was a little awkward, and you were glad it was so short. You could tell there was a lot Harry wanted to say, but you were glad he wasn’t saying it. You keep seeing him glance at you, but you pretend not to notice.

“What size pumpkins should we ask for? Small ones, huh?” Harry nods, looking around in childlike awe. There was a small petting zoo, booths selling warm drinks and kettle corn, and an obscene amount of children.

You walk around together for a moment before encountering a friendly-looking employee who looked like he could help you out. Harry takes over, explaining the situation, and why you need to order one hundred tiny pumpkins. While you’re waiting for the employee to ask the owner if that would even be possible, Harry turns to face you.

“Y/N? Can we talk about what happened on Monday?” you’re about to tell him that you’d rather not, but he continues. “I felt something during that kiss, Y/N. I’m not sure if you felt it too, but I don’t want things to be awkward between us. We have to get through an entire school year working side-by-side, and if you’re not interested, then I respect that one hundred percent, but I just want––”

“So the owner said that is possible!” The employee that was helping you out comes back with a form and clipboard in their hand. “Can you just fill out some information and let us know what time you need it tomorrow? The owner said he could get it delivered and give you guys a discount since you’re ordering so much.”

“That’s great!” you exclaim, taking the form from him. You were glad to have been saved from your conversation with Harry. You quickly go through and fill out everything you can, telling them they can bill your school’s PTA. 

The walk back to your car is silent. You’re replaying what Harry was saying to you over in your head, thinking about what he was going to say before he was interrupted. He opens your car door like he’s been doing, but he doesn’t make eye contact with you or say a word as he slides into the passenger seat.

“Y’can just drop me off,” Harry says quietly. He leans your seat back and closes his eyes. You wait to see if he’ll connect his phone, but he doesn’t, so you turn on the radio at a volume so low it almost can’t be heard. It takes everything in you not to speed back to his place. You just wanted him out of your car. You had such strong feelings for him that it physically hurt, and restraining yourself from telling him how you really felt was growing harder and harder.

“We’re here.” your voice is a little hoarse from not saying anything. Harry slowly opens his eyes and unbuckles his seatbelt, opening the door.

“Right. Thanks for the ride. What time do we need to be at school to set up our booth by?”

“Four. I can pick you up if you want?”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” He closes the door and walks up to his gate without looking back at you once.

“Hi Miss Y/L/N! Hi Mr. Styles!”

Groups of your students had been coming up to you excitedly all evening. It made you happy to see that the Kindergarten classes were no longer divided. They were starting to hang out with one another. Their parents tell you how their children thought it was just the coolest thing to be on school grounds on a Saturday, and how even though it was only a week into the school year, they were having the best time. It was comments like this that made you fall in love with your job all over again.

Things between you and Harry were going well. It wasn’t awkward, but you think it was because you were both too busy helping children paint their pumpkins. You were glad that Harry didn’t take the bit of downtime the two of you had when no one was at your booth trying to talk about the kiss and instead talked about other random things instead. You find out he loves baking (specifically, bread), he has an obsession with old music, and has about fifty tattoos. He talks to his mom on the phone every day, and he is extremely close to his sister. You tell him about your parents’, your undergraduate experience, your hobbies, and you finally tell him what music you like to listen to.

The festival quickly comes to an end, and you find yourself sad once you and Harry are done cleaning up your booth, knowing that you were just going to drop him off at his apartment and go back to yours to spend another Saturday night alone. You get to his complex almost too quickly, and you almost want to keep going and pretend you accidentally missed it just to be with him a bit longer. Instead, you park.

“D’ya wanna come inside?” He blurts out. Even in the darkness of your car, you can tell his face is flushed. “I mean if you haven’t got plans. I know it’s a Saturday night, so I understand if––”

“Nope, I don’t have plans. I’d love to.” Your hands are shaky as you unbuckle your seatbelt. He quickly gets out of your car and runs around to your side, opening the door for you before you can do it yourself. You almost don’t even notice since it was becoming such a habit.

“I picked up this new bottle of wine a couple days ago that’ve been wanting to pop open. Think we deserve a glass or two after such a long week, hmm?” You wordlessly nod, wholly mesmerized with just how good Harry looked after such a long day of work. His curls fell perfectly across his forehead, his eyes were sparkling and full of excitement. 

“A glass of wine sounds great,” you reply with a chuckle. “I’m ready to drink a whole bottle by the end of the week if I’m being honest.” Harry laughs, quickly punching in his gate code. You could see his hands shaking a little bit, but you decide not to comment on it. He takes the stairs up to his apartment two at a time like he did last time you were there, but this time there’s an urgency and clumsiness to his actions that you haven’t seen before. He jams the key in his lock, quickly shoving the door open.

His apartment is a little messier than it was when you were in it at the beginning of the week, but it’s nothing disgusting. He runs his fingers through his curls, moving aside papers that were scattered along the length of the couch. “Sorry, I was doin’ some planning. Make yourself comfortable.” He disappears to the kitchen, and moments later, you hear the pop of a wine cork and the smooth sound of him pouring the alcohol into glasses.

He emerges from his kitchen, handing you a generously poured glass of wine. “Thanks, Harry,” you tell him before taking a big sip. It was sweet, and while you usually preferred a more dry wine, it was still delicious. 

“Cheers to the end of a successful first week,” he holds up his glass, and you smile, clinking yours with his. “Thanks for helpin’ me get through it, Y/N. Couldn’t have done it without you.” You give him a timid smile.

“Stop, Harry. You’re a great teacher. I can see your kids love you already,” you take another sip of wine. “I kinda do too. I mean–– that came out wrong. I don’t love you, but I do think I like you.” You didn’t know what came over you at that moment, but something told you now was the time to lay it all out on the table with Harry. He sets his glass of wine down, the biggest smile on his face.

“Really? I thought you weren’t interested. Was kinda startin’ to feel like you hate me,” he sounds a little sad. You shake your head.

“Quite the opposite, actually. I’m really into you,” you didn’t even realize how you’d inched your way towards Harry. “I’ve been trying not to think about how we kissed because we shouldn’t, you know? We’re coworkers. I’ve been trying not to think about it all week, though, and I just can’t get you out of my mind.” He stares intensely into your eyes, chewing on the inside of his cheek like he usually does when he’s thinking.

“Can I kiss you, Y/N?” he finally asks. You’re in the same position as you were last time, being mere inches away from the other’s lips. Only this time, you smell the wine on his breath, not coffee. You nod quickly, and Harry cups your face in his hands, hungrily pressing his lips against yours.

“You can do more than kiss me, actually,” you tell him breathlessly. “You can do whatever you want with me.”

Harry raises an eyebrow, a shocked look on his face. “When you say anything…” he trails off.

“I want you to fuck me, Harry,” you tell him bluntly. “Please. Been wanting that all week.” He licks his lips, looking at you in a way he hasn’t yet before. 

“I can definitely do that,” he replies, resting his hand on your thigh. His large hand is dangerously close to your pussy, and you can already feel yourself growing wet. “Let’s get all these clothes off you then, huh?” 

You stand up and quickly start removing your clothes. First, your blouse comes off, and that’s quickly followed by your bra. Harry’s leaning back on the couch, arms resting behind his head. “Enjoying the show?” you ask, quickly pulling down your jeans and underwear. You’re completely naked in front of him in thirty seconds flat, and you reckon that’s the fastest you’ve ever undressed for anything. 

“Very much so,” he mumbles, palming himself over his khakis. “C’ mere, Y/N.” he pats his lap, and you move to sit in it, now straddling him. He softly presses his lips against yours, the hunger that was there just a moment ago completely dissipated. This was a much more hesitant kiss, more gentle and tender. “You’re really beautiful, Y/N.”

You giggle. “I know. You’ve told me that before.”

“I want you to know how much I mean it.”

“I know you do.”

Harry nods. “Can I have a taste of ya now?” you notice that his accent sounds a bit thicker than usual, voice a tad gruffer. You nod, swallowing thickly. Climbing off Harry, you lay back on the couch, situating yourself, so it’s a little more comfortable. He looks into your eyes, placing his hands on your knees. “Is this okay, Y/N?” You nod again, and he removes his hands.

“What’s wrong?” your voice has a hint of desperation in it, but after a week of extreme sexual tension, you wanted nothing more than to cum by the hands of this man.

“Wanna hear you tell me it’s okay. I don’t wanna do anything you don’t want,” he’s looking down at his hands.

“Harry, I wouldn’t have given you a striptease and laid back on this couch for you if I didn’t want it. I wholeheartedly give you permission to do whatever you want with me––”

That’s enough for him. He roughly pries your legs open, immediately licking a long stripe up your heat. You cry out, not expecting him to get right into it. You look down at him and groan when you see he’s making eye contact with you, a smug look on his face. “How’s tha’, love?” You nod, tangling your hands in his curls.

“Yeah Harry, please,” you moan. Harry sucks harshly at your clit, pulling off loudly, the sound echoing throughout his minimally furnished apartment.

“Please what, pet?” He’s looking you dead in the eyes, a devilish grin on his face while his index finger rubs small circles on your clit. Your chest is heaving up and down quickly as you try to calm your breathing down.

“Please make me cum on your tongue, Harry,” you try pushing his head back down to your cunt, but he doesn’t budge.

“Think I rather like hearin’ you beg like this fo’ me. Enjoyin’ watching you squirm like tha’, love.” Just as your about to beg for him some more to feed his inflated ego, he attaches his lips to your clit once more, this time adding his ring finger into your tight pussy. “You’re tight. Sure you’ll be able to take my cock?” His voice is muffled, and you just barely make out what he says.

You clench around his finger, and he laughs, the vibrations sending a new sensation across your clit. “Y’like thinkin’ about my cock, hmm?”

“Yeah, want you in me,” you beg, lifting your hips up. He grips onto your hips tightly, keeping you in place.

“Can feel yeh gettin’ ready for me, darlin’. Think you can take another one?” You nod, and Harry gently places kitten licks on your swollen clit while he slowly pushes his middle finger into you. You feel full in a way you haven’t felt in such a long time, and he only had two fingers in you. Once he pumps his fingers in and out of you a few times, he goes back to harshly sucking on his clit, moaning every so often so you can feel the vibrations against your cunt.

“Fuck,” you’re moaning loudly, and you pray Harry’s neighbors don’t hear you, knowing how thin apartment walls were.

“So fuckin’ wet for me, doll,” he mutters, adding another finger inside you. The burn feels amazing, and you place your hand on his wrist, urging him to go faster. “Gonna cum in my mouth, hmm? Gonna let me feel ya around m’ fingers?”

“Yes, please, Harry,” you feel yourself nearly there, your orgasm threatening to overtake you at any moment. 

“Give it to me then, Y/N. Cum for me,” he demands. As soon as he says those three words, you’re done for, your body going tense as waves of pleasure roll throughout your body. He doesn’t remove his digits from the your cunt until you’re coming down from your high, placing a kiss to your clit. He laughs as you shudder at the overstimulation. Harry places his three fingers that were just inside of you and his mouth and sucks on them, not once breaking eye contact with you. 

“That was really good,” you tell him, crawling on your knees towards him to place a kiss on the underside of his jaw—Harry’s beaming, a triumphant look on his face.

“Not yet. Gotta make y’ cum one more time. I’m a gentleman, after all.” You know he’s messing with you but also serious, so you lean back on the couch, opening your legs once again.

“Are you gonna take off your clothes too? Why am I the only one that’s naked?” Harry laughs, and you hear the clanking of his belt as he undoes it. 

“You’re impatient, aren’t ya?” you nod, and he pulls down his tenting khakis and tight boxers. His cock springs up, slightly touching his stomach, and he hisses at the feeling. “Hold on a sec.” He gets up quickly, and you hear him hurry to what you assume in the bathroom, rummaging around. He comes back a minute later with a box of condoms, making you laugh.

“Is that a new box of condoms? Have you been holding onto those all week, Mr. Styles?” Harry rolls his eyes and opens the box, ripping open a condom expertly with his teeth.

“Weren’t you just the one beggin’ for me, pet? I’d watch it if I were you,” he jokes, rolling the condom onto his hard length. He leans down to place wet, opened mouth kisses to your breasts. “So beautiful.”

“Are you gonna take off your shirt?” you ask quietly. “I kinda wanna see all your tattoos.” Harry raises an eyebrow at you but unbuttons his shirt nevertheless, throwing it into the mess of clothes scattered around the living room. You reach your hand up, shakily tracing the swallows on his chest, moving down to the butterfly across his stomach and finally to the ferns on his abdomen. Harry’s staring down at you, watching as you delicately touch his skin. “You have so many.” you finally say. He nods.

“Yeah. Some of them I just got for the hell of it. Felt like after I got that first tattoo, it was hard to stop.” He caresses the skin on your thighs, and you shudder again. “Gonna let me get inside that pretty lil’ cunt now?”

“Please.”

Harry aligns himself with your entrance and slowly pushes into you, sharply inhaling as you clench around his length. “Relax, Y/N.’ve got ya,” he tells you reassuringly. “Can’t get inside ya if you’re all tense like tha’.” You can tell Harry’s trying his hardest not to absolutely wreck you, the vein in his forehead very prominent from clenching his jaw so tightly. You grip tightly onto his bicep, biting your lip as you adjust to his size. You were so wet and indescribably turned on that you felt every vein his thick cock had to offer, and you knew you wouldn’t last long once he started moving. By the looks of it, Harry wouldn’t either.

“You can move,” you tell him, squeezing your eyes shut. Harry slowly pulls out of you and then ever so gently sinks back inside you, bottoming out. He lets out a breathy moan, moving one of his hands up to tweak your nipples. “Harder, Harry, fuck.” 

He immediately pulls out of you and slams back inside, the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass echoing in the room. You scream in pleasure, no longer caring if his neighbors hear what you two were doing. 

“Like tha’?” He asks cheekily, working up a steady rhythm. You nod, gripping your boobs to keep them from bouncing. Harry shakes his head, forcefully removing your hands. “Nope, none of that. Wanna see ’em.” He takes both of your hands in one of his, pinning them up over your head. His other hand reaches in between your bodies to rub at your clit, and before you have time to warn him, you’re cumming again, squirting all over his cock. 

Harry throws his head back in pleasure, his thrusts getting sloppy and frantic, and you know he’s seconds away from his own orgasm. You spur him on, telling him how badly you wanted him to come inside of you (even though he was wearing a condom). He stills moments later, shaking above you as he holds himself up with an arm, not wanting to collapse on top of you.

“Fuckin’ hell, Y/N. Why did we wait a whole week to do this again?”

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