#{ So if you actually manage to remember his birthday and actively celebrated it with him (along with helping him celebrate Christmas- }

[chronosbled]

{ Not me only just now realizing that Dickson’s birthday is less than a month away now. That moment when you got a birthday just five days away from Christmas and four days away from Christmas Eve. }

[hauntedwitch04]

Bday secret party

Remus Lupin x reader

Words: about 2.0k words

Warnings: pure and awesome fluff (after yesterday ahaha), lovely Remus, my obsession with Edimburgh

Author's note: Hi! Here another one shot fo the series for my birthday. Hope you like it loves.

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Bday plan

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"James, I swear if you said anything to her I will hang you upside down from the astronomy tower for an entire day." Remus says in a particularly annoyed and contrite tone.

The young werewolf immediately felt guilty for talking that way to his friend, but at the same time he couldn't believe that James had almost screwed up the whole plan he had designed to put on your birthday party. He had been planning everything down to the last detail for a month now, to make sure everything is perfect on your big day, and he couldn't let a chatty deer ruin everything just because he's careless.

He sees pure fear in his friend's eyes after threatening him with one of his greatest fears: height.

"Sorry." Whispers James, as he backs away slowly to make room for his friend, seeing that he is stressed right now. "But I swear she didn't understand anything. It just slipped out that I had to see you to arrange something, and I said it was my gift to her." Potter continues, as he looks at Sirius, who up to this moment had been silent. Immediately his best friend understands the plea for help and nods.

"Yes, she didn't understand anything, we were very good at lying to her." Says the older Black, as Regulus runs a hand over his face, remembering the scene that took place a short time ago in the Great Hall. Indeed James and Sirius had been good at creating a believable excuse, but I young Black knows you better than you think, and he had seen in your eyes the seed of doubt, and he knows that this is not good at all. In your group of friends you are known for having a sixth sense and a spirit of observation so keen that sometimes it seems you can read people's minds and, even, the future. The very moment they've said their shit, Regulus knows that some strange mechanisms have been activated in your mind that have caused you to weigh all possible options, and so he knows they're screwed.

"No, you have to excuse me. I didn't think organizing a birthday was so hard, but at the same time I want everything to be perfect for her, because she deserves it." Remus confesses, as he holds his head in his hands, trying to relax.

"You know she's going to say you're overreacting anyway and she doesn't deserve it." Regulus comments, as he puts away the last things for the party. Your birthday would be celebrated this evening, after a romantic walk between you and your fiancé. Remus had managed to convince the prefect with the Ravenclaw night shift to turn a blind eye, and would thus take you in front of the Room of Requirement, afterwards around the park, and there all your friends would surprise you. It was a well-thought-out plan, and it still doesn't explain how you didn't actually almost come to find out only today and not weeks before.

"Which is silly after all he gives every day for us." Sirius continues, as James nods, placing balloons on the wall. "Our mother deserves a proper celebration." The oldest Black concludes, making all three other boys laugh. "Ever since you and Remus got together, the boys started calling you the 'mom' of the group, since they always teased Remus for being their dad in a way, since he was the most responsible of the four.

When they finish laughing they go back to work to sort out the last few things for the party, knowing that it is now only a short time away. Right now you are supposed to be with the girls, whose job it is to distract you from the absence of your friends and your boyfriend, but Remus cannot help but keep fidgeting both behind every little detail and out of fear that at any moment you might walk in the door and find out why he has not been very close to you these past few weeks, but after all, part of him knows it might be because of the gift he gave you.

Remus keeps moving like a damned soul without rest for a while before Regulus stands up and blocks him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Man, everything is perfect, why don't you just relax for a moment?" The youngest among them asks the werewolf, but immediately Regulus sees in his friend's eyes that there is something else and not just what they are preparing that is upsetting him.

"There is something that doesn't give you peace." Regulus comments, and Remus says nothing, and just looks at him. "It's not like it's the gift you gave her, is it?" The Slytherin continues, marveling at the Gryffindor in front of him.

"How did you do that?" Lupin asks, increasingly shocked by young Black's prowess, when the other in response merely laughs.

"You were playing with a little box earlier, and can one read the doubt and fear in your eyes?" Regulus explains, continuing to laugh, while Remus in response rolls his eyes and looks at the clock, seeing that it was almost time to see you, so he gets up.

"It's almost time for our walk. Take care guys, the others should be here soon. Don't screw up please." Lupin asks as he looks at his friends, who reassure him and give him pats of encouragement.

"Go and return victorious with the lady messer Lupin." Sirius says, giving him a sort of bow, just before Remus walks out the door. He turns and as a last thing gives him a middle finger, after promising never to let him see "The princess bride" again.

Remus could feel his own heart beating in his throat as he saw you coming downstairs in simple jeans and his favorite sweater. You are simply perfect in his eyes, and nothing could change his mind.

"Finally, it seems like I haven't seen you in forever. Where have you been until now?" You ask curiously, seeing him a little stressed. "Are you okay? You look a little pale honey."

Immediately his heart warms at hearing your concern, and he can't help but think that maybe those nutty friends of his are right to call you "mom," and gently the boy shakes his head.

"I'm fine honey, maybe I just need to get some air. Would you like to take a ride with me?" He asks, and he doesn't even have to wait a second for an answer, as like a hurricane you pounce on him, taking him under your arm and running toward the school grounds. You walk around the lawns for a while, laughing and joking like you haven't in a long time. Nothing could dent your mood, and nothing exists apart from each other at this moment.

From the outside, one can see obvious the love you feel for the other person, only from your eyes, more than from your gestures, which seem to sing the most beautiful love song ever heard.

Hours seem to pass, then Remus looks at his watch and realizes that you are running late, so with the excuse that he has to catch another prefect in one of the side corridors to get the keys to a closet for the next prank James and Sirius are planning, he takes you in front of the mystery room. He's never felt more flustered than he does right now, and he's doubtful whether to give you the gift now or later, when you, damned curious as usual, lean out and touch the door.

"How come the room of needs is visible?" Ask curiously, as you watch him break into a cold sweat and try to play the part of the one who hides nothing.

"I have no idea my dear, try opening it and see what's behind it." Try suggesting Remus, as he rests a hand on your shoulder to guide you into the darkness of the room that opens before you. A few seconds pass and just as you're wondering what the point of it all is, the lights come on and all your friends pop out from behind couches and armchairs, shouting who "surprise" who "happy birthday," but all with beaming smiles on their lips as they come to hug you.

You immediately feel tears in your eyes, which you let run, because of the happiness and excitement they made you feel seeing so many people gathered to celebrate you.

Once you've greeted everyone you turn to Remus, who looks at you smiling, his hands behind his back.

"Did you arrange everything?" You ask in amazement as you look around and try to memorize every single detail of everything around you. "You didn't have to-"

"Yes I had to. You deserve this and much more than I can give you, you deserve the world, indeed the universe. And it wasn't just me, everyone helped me in some way." He interrupts you, as he circles your shoulders with one arm, and you hold him even tighter to you, squeezing his waist. "I love you, and all I want to do is remind you of that every day, but today especially, after all it's your day, and we all came here just for you, because we all love you, me more than all of them." He continues, resting his forehead on yours. Then he freezes for a moment, right for a few seconds and pulls out a box from his pants pocket.

"I want to give you my present now, because I want you to think about it." He says and you, confused for the umpteenth time this evening, wipe away the last of your tears and then pick up the box he is handing you. It is a black velvet box, and when you open it you see a pair of keys. You look up not understanding what they were, so your boyfriend explains.

"These are the keys to an apartment in Edinburgh, in your favorite area, which I may or may not have asked an old family friend to rent to me and my girlfriend, once I finished school, if she wanted to move in with me. What do you say, what will she decide?" He asks as he strokes your face and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You can't help but cry again before you go back to hugging him, just enough to take his breath away, your arms wrapped around his neck.

"I don't even have to think about it, the answer is obviously yes idiot." You whisper between the kisses you leave all along his face, making him laugh, while a few tears escape him as well. "You know you're pretty dumb for the smartest guy I know, it was obvious my answer was yes. And me thinking for a moment today that you had found a new girlfriend and were going to break up with me, damn how stupid I am."

Both of you laugh, still clasped in each other's arms, enjoying that closeness you had missed so much.

"I love you more than my own life, how could I ever look for another girl, when I have the most perfect girl that exists in the whole universe?" Remmy says in a whisper in your ear.

"I love you too Lupin, but you don't have to suck up, look you've already won your reward tonight." You counter by winking at him and he jokes by raising his eyebrows and whispering "I won, let's hurry up and leave this party then," making you laugh, until that sweet moment is interrupted as usual by the grace of Sirius Mr.Elegance of the Year Black.

"Do you want to be part of the party too, or are you going to be lovebirds the whole party?" He asks to throw a handful of confetti at you.

"I guess your reward will have to wait for Lupin." You say, as you hear him laugh, and together you go to enjoy this party with your friends, while in your mind already what will happen tonight in your own personal after party.

TAGLIST

• @shadowolf993 @sadblueberry721 @goldenharrysworld @fairy-witch-bitch @xoxoloverb @idli-dosa @rainelikerain @s-we-e-t-t-ea @daph-505 @nyx2021 @vjmoral @duda @drayshadow @siriusstwelveyears @highwayhunch @uwiuwi @itsmeseph @sassyrebelrockerprincess @highwayhunch @siriuslydestiny @haushinka27 @moonysluvrboy @maraurderssimpcuzwhytfnot @sgchamberlain @nyotamalfoy @eichenhouseproperty @mxmxnto-mori @anonimusy @raajali3 @helloitsmeeeeeee @standarizedpumpkins @maraurderzkinnie @omenhel @esposadomd @yourpurrrrrfect @the-ruler-of-death @dylanobriens-love @starvedxcupid @dittos-blog-dylanobrien @digitalhearts @percymylove @kayden666 @nightfiress @backups-backups @bless-my-demons @dudenhaaa27 @daeneeryss @starsval @rorysreallyrandom @superbookwormy64 @hjgdhghoe @mortica-raven13 @theviewfromtheotherside @watersquirtpewpewboomm @harleycao @yomomsgf @vixparker @imnotcryingurcrying @shitidksstuff

[moccahobi]

A Fae's Brew To Take You Away [Chapter 27]

Summery: Photography: Taehyung loves it. Specifically he loves film photography. He even spent an entire day hiking and taking photos in a meadow (there was a woman there at first but she left soon after). For Y/n though, Taehyung’s trip to the meadow was the start of something bad. Something real bad.

Pairings: Taehyung (BTS) x Reader, Yoongi (BTS) x Hoseok (BTS)

Rating: Teens and up

Chapter warnings: n/a

Series warnings (I update as I figure more stuff out): horror, injury, threats, character death, major angst, emotional distress, alcohol, verbal fight, anxiety

Word Count:  1.9k words

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fae AU!, College AU!

Tag list: @youarejesting, @i-am-moonchild, @oddinary4bts​

Chapter 23 >> Masterlist

A/N: Final chapter!!! After 5+ years of posting! I intend to write a reflection on it soon. Hehe. Thank you all for joining me on this journey.

Taehyung rushed quickly back to their apartment, his heart leaping in his chest as he rushed to get the frozen sweets to the party celebrating Y/n and Seokjin’s “birthdays”. The six (Taehyung, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Seokjin, and Y/n) somehow managed to find three apartments neighboring eachother a few months ago and were excitedly taking advantage of how close they all were. It wasn’t uncommon for Y/n to make breakfast for those with early shifts or classes (something that Taehyung went to even when he didn’t have an early shift). Jungkook would host late night cramming sessions that Taehyung would vehemently protest before and subtly offer snacks during. Namjoon tried to start a book club but Seokjin seemed to be the only person who was interested in something like that. 

Stuff seemed to look up for everyone after the move and Taehyung couldn’t be happier about it. Y/n and Seokjin got jobs, Yoongi was close to graduating, Namjoon had a new (albeit boring) research project, Jungkook was preparing for his first semester back from his medical leave, and Taehyung was back to photographing (mostly Y/n). People were recovering and it made Taehyung happy to see. Jungkook and Namjoon had even started playing video games again! The two even started a game that Taehyung had gotten with the hope of starting with Jungkook but Namjoon and him seemed to have started it. After the initial disappointment, it made Taehyung’s day. Jungkook was so distant from Namjoon for so long and seeing them get back into activities together was refreshing.

“I see you got the samanco!” 

Taehyung jumped as Y/n fell into stride with Taehyung, bumping shoulders and laughing at Taehyung’s stress. 

“I did. Why are you here instead of with everyone else?” Taehyung looked over at her briefly before looking away, the beauty that shone from her heart was too much to look at for the time being.

“Seokjin is too busy wowing everyone with his cooking… little do they know how bad it will taste. Silly fae still hasn’t gotten the hang of human seasoning.” 

“You still haven’t either.” Taehyung laughed and so did Y/n.

“True, but I know not to act like I do. I couldn’t watch them get so excited just to suffer. You got some wings too, right?” 

“Oh shit! I knew I forgot something.” 

Y/n shrugged, “I mean… I like his cooking so it won’t be a problem for me. But you humans.” 

“Seokjin and you are human, you know that?” Taehyung asked, knowing that she’d get a bit sad but wanting to make sure she remembered that, hoping that she remembered that. She was human now. 

“Yeah. Sometimes I still feel like a fae. I was meditating this morning and swear I almost touched my magic again. Got me so excited for what it might mean for Hoseok.”

Taehyung sighed and nodded, “Are you thinking of telling the others?”

“Just you,” She said, giving Taehyung’s stomach a bunch of tiny caterpillars that would soon form chrysalis, “I don’t want to get their hopes up. The chances of me actually being able to access that magic again is long lost, but I am exploring my options for Hoseok.” 

Taehyung hummed, biting back a silly smile, “I understand. In some ways, I wonder if Hoseok not returning will be better for Yoongi hyung.” 

“Possibly. I don’t think that is for us to decide.” Y/n said as she held the door to their apartment building open for Taehyung, “Now. I want to warn you, I think Seokjin and Yoongi are flirting.” 

“Oh? If you’re thinking it, then I don’t doubt it.” Taehyung laughed and shook his head. He might’ve been flirting with Y/n for a while now but she never seemed to understand that… or if she did, never brought it up or took a step further (but Taehyung didn’t want to think about that). 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She looked affronted and slapped Taehyung’s arm playfully before pressing the button to call the elevator. 

“Nothing.” Taehyung laughed, “It could be good if Yoongi starts dating him. Seokjin is a good guy.” 

Y/n nodded, “And he’s been quite stuck in his brain after everything with Jimin.” 

“Do you think either of you will be willing to share what happened with him some day?” 

Y/n shook her head and though Taehyung wanted to ask more, the elevator was opening and Namjoon was there on the phone with someone from his lab. Taehyung looked around the small elevator, trying hard to not listen too deeply to Namjoon’s call, his free hand resting on the elevator railing as he leaned back against the wall. Y/n seemed to be thinking similarly, taking out her phone and opening some app, resting against the elevator wall next to Taehyung. A bit of warmth on his hand stole Taehyung’s attention and when he looked down, he saw Y/n’s hand on top of his. Warmth spread to his face and neck but he didn’t say anything, instead choosing to look around more intently, looking everywhere other than her face. 

The ding of the elevator marked the end of Namjoon’s conversation and the quiet walk back to Taehyung and Jungkook’s apartment where, sure enough Seokjin, Yoongi, and Jungkook were all chatting away as Seokjin plated a vibrant looking dinner. It didn’t look scary like Y/n said it would taste but after so long of eating food she’s cooked, Taehyung doesn’t doubt it. Instead, he puts the groceries away and sets the table as others talked, unaware of the soft glances Y/n was sparing to him when he wasn’t looking. 

The food was… bad. It tasted like burnt chloroform. Like when Taehyung drunkenly tried to eat a leaf and shortly after had poison control’s phone number memorized. Surely that wouldn’t happen tonight but that didn’t make the food taste any more edible. Yoongi seemed suspiciously great at acting like the food was decent, showering Seokjin in praise about the vibrancy of the dish (at least he was only stretching the truth with his compliments). 

The two were very likely flirting. 

Would anything come from it? 

Taehyung didn’t know but his mind stayed on that throughout the night as people started playing some music, barely listening to the occasional ads and updates about vacuums, recently solved missing person reports, and the latest fad accessory that “everyone needed”. He was hoping beyond hope that Yoongi and Seokjin would be able to make a relationship work, that they’d be able to quickly jump into a relationship rather than dancing around each other. 

At some point in the night, Taehyung excused himself to the balcony, a much larger space than their last balcony that seemed to be just as crowded with plants as their last one. He needed a breather from all the warmth, loud noise, and building emotion. This was in some ways, their first real celebration since the… events last year and it was emotional for everyone. Out on this balcony, surrounded by all his plants and the soft sound of cars and partying people underneath, Taehyung felt himself calm down.

The sliding door squealed as someone else joined Taehyung on the balcony, Y/n. 

“You know, fae have this tradition of making big life decisions around yearly events. I don’t think this is as common for humans. All the media I see seems to talk about tons of holidays and celebrations that can change person to person. I’m not used to the human world yet but I am slowly learning. This fae tradition hasn’t left me yet. I don’t know if it quite will.”

“I didn’t know that. You and Seokjin don’t often talk about the fae world much.” He said, looking at her side profile as she looked down to the people walking by. 

She shrugged, “I wasn’t really part of it once I declared a potions apprenticeship and I think Seokjin doesn’t say much because of me. With how long we’ve been friends, he seems to have learned quite quickly how little I enjoy talking about it. He misses it a lot… but holds back because of me. He lost access to the fae world because of me too.”

“Maybe he doesn’t like talking about it either. He had to leave it behind as well. Besides, he didn’t need to become human to help out.” 

She nodded, “True. There is some of that too.”

“See? You’re not all at fault.” Taehyung laughed quietly and smiled, hoping to cheer Y/n up a bit from her moping. 

“Maybe, but you want to know a secret?”

“What?”

“I’m not too upset about what happened.” Her eyes widened before she started speaking quickly, “I mean I am! I am sad at the loss of friends and my loss of connection to the fae world and fae magic and I struggle because of all that’s happened… but if it hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t have met such amazing people, like Jungkook. I wouldn’t have found you.” 

She was looking at Taehyung, emotion swirling in her eyes communicating small and silent messages of love. Were they always this close? 

“I am glad I found you too. I… I am really inspired by you.” He couldn’t say it… not right now. Not when so much was already happening. 

“Oh? I am honored… I really like you.” Her eyes flicked down and Taehyung’s heart leapt in his throat.

“Oh?” He cringed at the small sound that left him but couldn’t think of anything else to say. 

“Yeah. And… you know how I was talking about fae tradition earlier?”

He nodded.

“It’s an annual thing tonight.”

He nodded. 

“Would you want to be my boyfriend?” 

He nodded.

Wait.

What?

“Boyfriend?”

“Yeah. That’s something humans do right? When they like someone romantically?”

“Uh. Yes.” Taehyung’s brain wasn’t processing. How was he even supposed to? She seemed so oblivious to his moves… and was suddenly asking?

“Oh great! I thought so! I was reflecting and noticed you had done some courting things recently and figured since we reached an annual event it would be a good time to ask you out!” She looked so excited as she talked, “Oh! I even got you something.” 

She ducked away, crouching down, and grabbing something, “I saw it at the store when I was shopping with Jungkook! An air plant! It smelled soooo good! I think it will fit in really well in your bedroom!” 

Her eyes were shining as Taehyung gingerly accepted the small plant, its leaves curling up towards Taehyung’s heart, “Thank you.” 

“So! Boyfriend?” She rocked on her feet excitedly, and Taehyung found himself laughing.

“Normally, humans date for a little before they put a label on things.” Her excited smile fell and Taehyung quickly continued, grabbing one of her hands with his free hand, “But I get that you want to respect fae tradition so I’d love to be your boyfriend.” 

She jumped excitedly around the small balcony before pulling Taehyung tightly into her arms, looking at him with a large and happy smile, “Can I kiss you, boyfriend?” 

Those caterpillars she’d given him earlier had somehow started bursting from the chrysalis that Taehyung hadn’t even noticed them weave, and as he nodded excitedly before leaning in, their lips touching in a soft caress, the butterflies took flight. 

[diamondcitydarlin]

(You can publish this if you want to) Not at all the same thing (because in this situation it's the fans that were out of line), but as far as social media making fan-celeb relationships worse (not all writers are "celebs" but I think we can count Neil Gaiman as one)… One Direction were the first boyband to Experience Social Media and all that comes with it (which included getting naked art of themselves sent to themselves, worded sexual harassment, etc.). And slowly but surely they stopped using social media as often except when to talk about professional things. I remember fans would get FURIOUS when one member didn't wish the other member happy birthday on social media (which... they knew each other in person soooo they could've... wished each other happy birthday in person...). Not only that but they thought since one member didn't post anything about his son ever that meant the son wasn't real (I am NOT joking, they full on believed this hook line and sinker). I guess what I'm saying is that yes, I agree that after a certain level of fame you need to just cut yourself off from social media and have an agent or something run it. Both for your fans' well-being but also for your own because the opposite is also true: sometimes *fans* don't see where the lines are.

Hey fifthnormani!! I need to follow you back actually, your url is so familiar to me now I assumed I was this whole time lol (EDIT- followed you since I wrote that lmao)

I remember a lot of the ND drama from back in the day, though I wasn't in fandom it was difficult to avoid mention of it between, what, 2011-2014 ish? I didn't know they had been personally active on socmed for awhile though, that's new info for me, but it's a perfect example of what I was talking about for sure. The ND guys and their people can be forgiven for thinking that was a good idea for awhile in circa 2010-2012, we were (understandably) all very naive about this new social media thing and what could happen with it. The fact that they quickly gathered it wasn't a good idea and pivoted to having PR people handle it is exactly what should have happened.

There's definitely a two-way street concern of safety when it comes to these kinds of situations; that of the creators/celebrities and that of their fans (though obviously in the case of Neil Gaiman and others like him the primary concern is for the safety of the fans atp, but in a general sense). And there are plenty of creators/celebrities/famous people as it is that manage to acknowledge and appreciate their fans while still keeping those boundaries of safety in place.

I think that sometimes those boundaries can seem like a famous person thinking themselves above the 'riff-raff', like kind of a snobby, holier-than-thou thing, and I'm sure for some of them that's definitely part of it, which I also think is part of the magic spell that gets cast when a famous person/celebrity/creator etc deigns to interact with their adoring public in a way that's more down-to-earth, approachable, etc. And again, while I'm sure there are those who manage to do this in a way that keeps everyone safe and have no ulterior motives to doing so other than just wanting to connect with their supporters, it is not without risk for everyone involved. I think, at the very least, we need to be talking more about what that means, should mean going forward.

For one, as I've said, I think it should mean some amount of healthy suspicion towards people of that level of wealth/fame chumming around in more intimate spaces on a regular basis, be it socmed or something in-person, whatever. The bullying-John-Green-off-tumblr thing aside, tumblr has always been pretty welcoming to celebrities associated with our fandom properties making public blogs on here. There hasn't been a huge amount, but there are some. I think it might be time to reevaluate this open-arms approach that we've had and for the famous people who are here I think it might be time to reevaluate together the boundaries and whether or not a presence here is 100% safe for themselves and their fans (and maybe it is, everyone is different and there are some fairly 'famous' people here who just log in every 6 wks to reblog a bunch of stuff and then fuck off, but still). The famous people especially have a higher burden of responsibility in the power imbalance parasocial relationship they have with their fans, so I think it's worth contemplating and discussing further. (That's not to say we should harass famous people off of tumblr in light of this, I'm not advocating for that at all, just that we take a more nuanced look at the parasocial dynamics unique to tumblr -the fandoms and the famous people both- and decide with that knowledge how best to proceed forward for everyone's safety, part of the restorative justice process imo)

This is definitely still a brave new world of fandom we're living in, for sure. I was in fandoms back in the early days of the internet when it was generally considered verboten to involve the creators/actors/famous people with the fandom stuff at all, and a lot of that had to do with the various legal attacks that took place in fandom spaces (Anne Rice, JK Rowling's people/WB went after HP fan sites a lot in the early 00's), some of which resulted in the complete wiping of fanfics, fandom spaces/sites, people were separated bc they didn't know each other's screennames outside of the fandom that was wiped, etc. While that isn't as likely to happen today, it's still part of what we're talking about with safety and boundaries. There's a lot to be considered here.

I almost wish there was some kind of forum, streamlined, public internet place people could gather who are interested in talking more about fandom/creator safety in light of this, what can be done better in future, what this should mean for fans/fandoms that want to keep their spaces safe, etc. Maybe a reddit or something, or maybe we can start a tag for discussion here. I'm gonna mull that over some more.

[toyahinterviews]

CELEBRITY BRIDES UNVEILED 2009

TOYAH: When I was a little girl I never dreamt about my wedding. I was a tomboy. All I ever wanted for Christmas and for my birthdays was punch balls, guns, tanks. So weddings just weren't on my agenda at all   In fact, I probably as I got older and got into my teens and became a punk rocker - and then got into my 20s - was quite phobic about thoughts of marriage and quite phobic about the thought of having a permanent partner and having a family. So when I did eventually get married, I shocked everybody I knew I grew up in Birmingham, which was quite a difficult place for a girl to grow up 35 years ago. Women were forced into relationships and I felt forced into being sexually active. An awful lot of the girls that I knew their ideal was to have a child out of wedlock and get the security of a nice apartment and never get married and get a job. I hate to generalise about it, but that is the environment I grew up in Because I grew up in that environment I was ferociously against relationships. So I got involved in punk and then in music around the age of 14. I knew that I was always going to be very different  

I started making my own clothes and started to look very punky. I was very pre-punk. I was influenced by a film called The Rocky Horror Picture Show, which was pre-punk. So I was walking around Birmingham with peacock coloured hair about two years before punk rock ever appeared 

My husband and I should have met at least five to six years before we actually did because we had the same management company. The very first time I met him was 1983, where we shared a taxi to an award ceremony together. He sat on the front seat and I was on the backseat with my manager - our manager. He was very quiet and he had these little round glasses   I just took the mickey out of him from the Kings Road to the Grosvenor Hotel, which was about half an hour trip. I can remember my manager just being flabbergasted that I had the guts to just provoke this man for half an hour and I'd only just met him I didn't know that he is in the Top 10 of the world's most famous guitar players. He's a man called Robert Fripp and 1983 he was just like God in the music world. He worked with David Bowie he produced Peter Gabriel. He'd been on Blondie’s his albums - so he was a megastar. The picture behind me (above) is of me and Princess Michael of Kent, laughing at someone joking. And that someone is Robert Fripp, my husband    This is the first moment I really got to talk to him because Princess Michael wanted a photograph taken with him and me. That picture appeared in a very famous newspaper the next day with Robert cut out of it, because Robert was never really a celebrity, but I was and that was 1983 - three years before I married Robert So we didn't meet again until two years later, when we met at exactly the same award ceremony. He said to me would I visit him at his home in Dorset and make an album with him, a charity album for children's school in America and I said yes    But what I didn't know, and this is very much how my husband works - when we met again in 1985, which would have been around June - July he'd already said to his friends in America, where he lived in New York, he said "I'm wiping the diary clean for the next three weeks, because I'm going to meet my wife". So we'd already had a kind of intuition about this   

Then the following week after we met and had this discussion, I went down to work with him on this album for a week. He said “will you marry me?“ and “I said it was a bit quick, isn’t it?” He said "no, I know you're my wife. I've been planning this for the last month." And I kind of went "OK, well let's get to know each other"     So I actually moved to Washington for three months to the school where we were raising the money for, where he taught, because he also teaches guitar. I went there and taught drama for three months and that was our courtship (Shows the bouquet) I still have my wedding bouquet, which is hard to believe. This dear thing is 22 years old. We keep it in our front room. It was yellow, originally. I adore yellow flowers. So we had yellow roses, yellow Carnations and then Lily of the Valley     This is probably the most expensive thing about the wedding - the Lily of the Valley on May the 16th - we're already out of season. So we had to have them brought in from Holland and it wasn't cheap. But I did a little drawing of what I wanted and a friend went along to a florist and got it organised. And miraculously, we have managed to keep it I organised the wedding. My husband didn't want anything to do with any of those traditions other than the church ceremony. So he participated in the rehearsal. We married in St. Mary & Cuthberga & All Saints Church in Witchampton in Dorset where his father was buried, and I think his grandparents were buried     We did the rehearsal but that was about as far as it went. I bought the wedding rings, I bought the wedding dress. I cooked all the food for the wedding party. He didn't want children at the wedding. He didn't want any of my friends at the wedding but I insisted on close family Basically I realised that it was nerves. He can't bear big events. I have never had a party since I've been married because he can't bear those kinds of events, which is unusual but bearable. So he didn't want music at the wedding. It was a silent wedding         The extraordinary thing was it was on May the 16th 1986 and it’d rained for a month but the moment we arrived at the church, the sun came out and streamed through the windows exactly where we stood at the altar

(Shows the hat) I had the veil made. My sister-in-law had to organise it so no one knew I was having a wedding veil made. That went over the front, it's very brittle and delicate. You've got to remember it's 22 years old, and this big flower went at the back. Now these are back in again today. Back then this was 1986, big things were in. But seriously that went out in the 90s big time. I suppose you would see that in Sex And The City today We managed to have the reception with very close family. And then the precious day ended and that evening and the next day we were hounded. We were chased everywhere by journalists in cars. Eventually we drove off to a Franciscan retreat in Sand Creek in Cornwall, who hid us and we hid that for a week and they blessed our wedding (Shows the garter) This is the garter I wore for something blue and I wore it on my left leg I think, I could be wrong. But there's only two legs to choose from. It was a gift from my husband's best friend. They had it made by a local lacemaker in Dorchester. My husband now keeps this on his desk in his office.      (Shows the dress) Because Robert and I were getting married secretly I couldn't order a wedding gown. Because I was paying for everything and basically was not interested in a huge expensive public wedding I had to really ponder of how I was going to be a bride I thought OK, I'll just go buy a ball gown and it was really hard for me to shop at this time because I was incredibly well known. I couldn't go anywhere on my own. So I knew of a kind of debutante ball shop in a town called Windborne in Dorset. I went there pretending I was going to a ball and I bought the only ball gown that would fit me       That was a little pink organza Bo Peep dress, a family dress. I didn't want a traditional white wedding dress which was lucky. This is actually a little ball gown, very Bo Peep, off the shoulder puffball sleeves that just rested on the upper arm. Little kind of gatherings at the bottom. So it's very feminine, very pretty indeed I think marriage is cyclical. I think everything in life is cyclical. You go through cycles. And if you can recognise those cycles, you can recognise when a cycle is dipping, and you're in a bad time and also when a cycle is lifting and you're in a good time. I think you only grow to recognise these things if you have longevity in a relationship      

So seven years ago, we found the home we're in now (Toyah and Robert in 2020, above), which is just the most perfect beautiful home in the world in the Midlands. We decided that we wanted to spend more time together and travel a little bit less and just enjoy ourselves. We've worked really hard, not only as a couple, but as individuals as well. You've got to bear in mind we don't have children either so we're not fixed and one of us isn't financially dependent on the other But we go off, we have little honeymoons three or four times a year and just lock the world out and we're just romantic. The one thing that both of us are - we are both very romantic. I love buying him gifts and I love telling him to pack a bag and (say to him) you’re going be in a warm climate. You'll be in a cold climate. Oh, don't worry, you're not going to leave the bedroom for a week. I've kind of I like surprising him and taking him on nice adventures You can watch the programme  HERE

[blingblingbubbles]

All of the above! I am the cool aunt who is even allowed to give her nine year old nephew a forehead kiss on the football pitch. And it wasn't always easy to be a good aunt due to distance, so it was hard to always be around. Some things I would like to add:

12. Keep up to date with their interests! I used to be an expert regarding paw patrol and now I know too much about rappers I don't like and I could make a ranking of my nephews favorite football players and what he likes about them and he always gets really excited when he notices that I remember.

13. Do things with them like activities even if they are out of your comfort zone. Do I enjoy playing football? No. Am I the first person who plays with him when he doesn't have a friend to play with during family celebrations or just visits? Yes, even if it means playing barefoot bc I am actually wearing heels. And some activities are going to be nice like I enjoy coloring with my niece, it's fun, or doing crafts.

14. It might sound really stupid but don't send them away when you talk to someone else and they can be present during the conversation. Like it's not difficult to play a game with your nephew or niece while talking to your sibling. Often kids just want to be there during talks especially if they don't see you often and yes sometimes the topics aren't for childrens ears or maybe you just want to talk to your sibling and that's fine but then it's good to give them time after.

15. Try to be there when there is something special in their life. And believe me I can't make it to every single birthday but I managed to be there when my nephew had his first big football game and when he had his first school play, was there when my niece got enrolled into school and when the both of them performed in summmer circus.

16. Don't shut them out of your life like tell them about your life. Sure it also depends on their age but like my older nephew and niece who are both in elementary school are able to tell ppl about me.

I can't think of more things rn but something very important in general: remember that they are people with personalities like even if they are small, they have a personality and trust me sometimes they will show traits that you aren't fond of bc everyone flawed, they are just little humans with flaws like everyone else. Some of these flaws disappear sometimes and instead there are other flaws you might not really notice, sometimes those traits are here to stay. But it doesn't change anything about how much you love them bc trust me the second they are in this world, they are probably going to be one of the most important ppl in your life. And if you are worried about being a good aunt or uncle that's normal, I thought I would be horrible as an aunt especially when the first one was born and he was very little and I had no clue how to handle a baby but you learn that.

I know that a lot of you are banking on having little to do with your nephews/neices as children and then becoming their "cool aunt" once they become teenagers, but I think that you will find, upon analysis, that a random middle-aged woman stepping into a whole-ass teenager's life and arbitrarily declaring herself to be a "cool aunt" is, in fact, the least cool thing it's possible to do.

[fancoloredglasses]

He-Man & She-Ra: A Christmas Special (I’m surprised they didn’t Kringle Castle Greyskull)

[All images are owned by Mattel and Filmation. Please don’t sue me]

(Thanks to psychelynx for the suggestion)

Once again, Wrestlecrap beat me to the punch as far as reviewing the special (to be fair, they’ve been active for over 20 years longer than this blog has), and I won’t say their jokes didn’t inspire mine.

Now, I’m not gonna say the only reason I did my review of He-Man and She-Ra  was so I could do this review, but...

If you would like to watch the special, it’s available on YouTube (cuz I’m sure no network would want to touch it by now)

It’s wintertime on Erternia, and King Roland and Queen Marlena are hosting a birthday celebration for their twin children Adam and Adora, who are able to celebrate together for the first time ever (since Adora grew up on Etheria after Hordak kidnapped her and was only recently reunited with Adam)

It’s such a big celebration that the Great Rebellion have taken time away from fighting to free Etheria from the Horde to celebrate as well! I’m sure the Horde won’t conquer the Great Rebellion’s lands while they’re away.

As the King and Queen look on fondly, Marlena says it reminds her of a Christmas celebration.

[Quick note: Marlena is originally from Earth. I don’t remember how (or if) the series explained how she came to Eternia. If any of you dear readers remember, please let me know in the comments]

Roland has no idea what Christmas is. Hang on, Roland and Marlena have been married for (I’m guessing) over 20 years. Are you telling me Marlena hasn’t mentioned Christmas ONCE in all that time?!

While Adora, the Great Rebellion, and the Kingdom’s defenders are getting the castle ready (so not only is Eteria left undefended, but Eternia as well? Way to go guys!)...

...Adam has skipped out on decorating to help Duncan, the Kingdom’s Man-at-Arms, actually defend the Kingdom. Duncan is putting the finishing touches on a spy satellite he calls the Sky-Spy, which he can use to see what Skeletor is up to 24/7. I don’t know about you, but I do NOT want to know if Skeletor sleeps without a loincloth!

As Duncan and Adam head back to the workshop...

Oh, you know this won’t end well. Orko decides to investigate the Sky Spy by breaking into it.

Unfortunately, his monkeying around turns it on, sending it (and HIM) skyward and into the opening credits!

Meanwhile, Skeletor also sees the Sky-Spy’s accidental launch (so I’m guessing he would’ve shot it down within a day of its actual launch) and orders his Collector to retrieve it.

Fortunately, Duncan spots this happening (if he’s able to watch this from a sky-eye view, why does he need a Sky-Spy?) as Adora walks in.

Adam decides that He-Man needs to intervene.

(Thanks to RKcrew)

Later, He-Man manages to keep the Sky-Spy from being grabbed, but...

...gets himself grabbed instead! Fortunately, He-Man is stronger than the cable holding him and breaks free. Unfortunately...

...there’s more where that came from! Fortunately...

...Adora decided that She-Ra should tag along. She-Ra quickly cuts the cables, freeing her brother. The pair then punch their way into the Collector, disabling the controls and causing it return to Skeletor’s lair on Snake Mountain.

Meanwhile on the Sky-Spy, Orko can’t leave well enough alone and casts a spell to try to get it to land...only his spells never work as intended, and instead of landing it rockets beyond Eternia’s atmosphere and into deep space!

Oh well, there’s a birthday party to get to. Roll the credits!

Wait...we’re only 7 minutes into the special.

He-Man and She-Ra chase after the Sky-Spy, but...

...it opens a wormhole and vanishes as we break for commercial!

When we return, Orko is happy the Sky-Spy is slowing down and preparing to land back on Eternia...

...only that’s not Eternia! The Sky-Spy crash lands on a frozen landscape, throwing Orko from the cockpit. He then hears a call for help...

...as a pair of children are about to be buried by an avalanche! Thinking fast, Orko casts a spell...

...and for once it actually works!

The children (Miguel and Alicia) explain they were getting a Christmas tree and got lost (so...they cut down the tree by themselves? What adult would let a kid swing an axe unsupervised?!) For whatever reason, Orko decides to show the kids the Sky-Spy.

Meanwhile on Eternia, Queen Marlena finds Orko’s spellbook at the launch site and guesses that the Sky-Spy wasn’t as unmanned as they originally thought!

On Earth, Orko takes the kids aboard the Sky-Spy to warm up (I don’t know how warm it is. I mean, it’s protecting against the snow and wind, but it it’s shut down there’s no heaters)

Orko then asks what Christmas is, so the kids tell him off-camera, so we don’t know what kid-centric explaination he got. Did it involve Jesus? Santa? The Kranpus? We have no clue! But it somehow involves presents and that’s all Orko cares about!

On Eternia, Duncan manages to track down where the Sky-Spy wound up, and Queen Marlena announces the coordinates are for Earth! Man-at-Arms says he has a teleporter beam, but it needs a Water Crystal which (conveniently for the plot) is not found on Eternia, but Adora thinks there might be some on Etheria and says she’ll contact She-Ra to ask Mermista (whose domain is the undersea of Etheria) Time for a fetch quest!

Outside, Adora somehow manages to contact She-Ra...

(Thanks to Rom)

...(a difficult task, I’m sure) and off she goes to Etheria!

Once She-Ra reaches Etheria, she contacts Mermista (you mean she wasn’t invited to the party? Some friend Adora is!) Mermista knows of the pool where a Water Crystal can be found, but it’s guarded by a creature known as the Beast Monster (boy, the writers worked overtime to name it, didn’t they?) She-Ra agrees to keep the Beast Monster busy long enough for Mermista to get the Water Crystal.

Which She-Ra does admirably. However, once Mermista hands over the Water Crystal...

Y’know, this doesn’t feel very Christmas-y...just sayin’

The sensors are attached to a giant robot...

...who brought along its friends! It’s 3-on-1 as we go to commercial!

The giant robots (known as Monstroids...did I mention the writers’ lack of imagination in naming things in this special?) encase She-Ra and Swift Wind in a force bubble, then begin changing form. So...they’re Decepticons?

The Monstroids forget about She-Ra as they leave to attack...whatever it is they’re at way with (I guess primitive Autobots?), so she uses her sword to cut through the force bubble (why didn’t she do that earlier and deal with the Monstroids?) and heads back to Eternia.

Later at Duncan’s lab, the Water Crystal is fitted into the teleportation beam and the device is activated.

Success! Roll the credits!

Wait...there’s still 25 minutes left, dammit.

Orko and the kids climb out (y’know, when those kids get back to Earth, their parents are gonna have the kids in therapy once they hear what happened) and Orko explains what happened as the scene shifts.

Meanwhile in deep space...

...Horde Prime, the supreme ruler of the Horde (who’s always depicted as a disembodied robotic hand a la Doctor Claw)

(Thanks to TVLine)

Anyway, Horde Prime detect a “new Spirit of Goodness” on Eternia (the kids? Seriously?) and dispatches Hordak and Skeletor (wait, Skeletor is working for the Horde again? You’d think he was enjoying being the Big Bad after Hordak ditched him 20 years ago) to capture it.

After telling the story, Alicia wants to be home in time for Christmas. Duncan says the teleportation beam won’t recarge for another few days, too late for Christmas. This makes Alicia whine (hey, be happy he’s able to get you home at all!) Queen Marlena suggests turning the twins’ birthday celebration into a Christmas party (sure, why not make He-Man and She-Ra more like Messiah stand-ins!)

Adam then asks about Santa (since Alicia wanted to be sure Santa would be able to get to Eternia), which prompts another off-camera explanation about Christmas (this time by Orko, so you know a few details are wrong)

Meanwhile, Horde Prime is concerned about the Spirit of Christmas being on Eternia (so Horde Prime knows about Christmas, but Eternians don’t?) and tells Skeletor and Hordak to deal with it, promising a great reward for the one who succeeds.

On Eternia, Bow and Perfuma are tasked with babysitting the kids. Nice to know the skills they honed in the Great Rebellion are being put to good use. Bow has written a Christmas song, despite the fact that he’s only just now heard of it. Suddenly...

...Hordak shows up in a ship that must’ve been an inspiration for Elon Musk’s rocket. (C’mon, you can’t tell me there’s not a certain...imagery in that spaceship)

Phallic spacecraft aside, Hordak activates a tractor beam and kidnaps the children and Orko, then heads back to Etheria! Yeah, the kids are definitely gonna need therapy after this.

However, once Hordak’s ship thrusts (sorry. The penis jokes just write themselves) its way back to Etheria...

OK, that’s WAY too much imagery!

The Monstroids (remember them?) are looking to get Horde Prime’s reward and attack (at least I hope that’s an attack!) Hordak’s ship! The Monstroids demand the kids in exchange for Hordak’s life. After about ten seconds’ consideration, Hordak agrees and high-tails it outta there. What a dick!

The Monstroids imprison Orko and the kids. Orko is moping about he (once again) messed everything up (someone please explain to me why anyone entrusts Orko with anything) when...

...She-Ra’s friends the Man-chines free them. However...

The Monstroids try to put everyone back in prison, but...

...the cavalry has arrived! He-Man tells Orko to get the kids to safety...

...while he, She-Ra, and the Man-chines make short work of the Monstroids.

Awww, Alicia found a friend (who’s named Relay)

However, while everyone’s distracted...

She-Ra goes to intercept Skeletor, so he casts a spell to slow her down.

However...

...Hordak has returned (in a ship that looks less phalic but still looks like he’s compensating for something) and shoots down Skeletor! Skeletor manages to disable Hordak’s ship but is forced to crash land in the mountains!

Fortunately, he found a soft patch of snow to land on. Skeletor then tries to force-march the kids to the rendezvous with Horde Prime, but the kids are too cold to move. The kids ask for a bit of kindness, since it’s Christmastime (when are these kids gonna realize no one Eternia has ever heard of Christmas?) Skeletor makes the mistake of asking what Christmas is, so Miguel once again starts the story.

Finally, Skeletor has had enough and tells them to get moving. However, they’re still cold, so he conjures up...

...magic coats that immediately warm the kids up. NOW GET MOVING! However, Relay didn’t get a coat and is still cold. Skeletor makes the kids leave Relay behind, but the whining (Relay’s, not the kids’) finally gets to Skeletor.

Later...

(Thanks to Peacock Kids)

Speaking of Horde Prime, he’s arrived at Etheria as Skeletor reached the rendezvous point. However...

...the rescue party has arrived!

But so has Hordak! Hordak stuns Skeletor...

...as the Power Twins attack the Horde. But while everyone’s busy...

...Horde Prime makes a grab for the children!

What happened next, Eternians say...

...Skeletor’s heart grew three sizes that day!

Skeletor’s shot disables Horde Prime’s ship. Oh, Horde Prime is NOT gonna like that!

However, before Horde Prime can exact his revenge...

...He-Man and She-Ra throw his ship into deep space.

The kids thank Skeletor for saving them, which surprised everyone (ESPECIALLY Skeletor!) He-Man says the spirit of Christmas makes everyone feel good.

Fortunately for Skeletor, the feeling will be gone by New Years.

Now it’s time for the birthday/Christmas celebration

S-Adam Claus gives the children flying belts as Duncan teleports them back to Earth

I’ll bet their parents will be selling the belts to some tech company behind the kids’ backs by New Years.

This being Filmation, there’s a heavy-handed message at the end. This one is about tolerance of those who don’t celebrate Christmas, as well as embracing the spirit of the season.

Have a great [WHATEVER YOU CELEBRATE], everyone!

[weirdlittlecorner]

Happy Birthday Baby

Plot: It’s your birthday! You didn’t think the boys would forget, did you?

Featuring: Paul, Gene, Ace, Peter, Tommy, and Eric S.

—

Paul

⭐️ Paul being the sweet man he is would wake you up with breakfast in bed. French toast, eggs your favorite way, perfect coffee- you name it

⭐️ Greets you with a gentle “good morning, sweetheart” and a peck on the nose as he rouses you to take your breakfast

⭐️ Leaves you to soak in the quiet for as long as you’d like knowing that you’re in for a busy day

⭐️ Insists that you get out of the house as soon as possible. Get a mani pedi, go shopping, anything you like for your special day. You deserve it

⭐️ Little did you know he bribed your friends to keep you occupied and away until that evening

⭐️ When your friends finally give in and bring you home, you walk into a huge surprise party with all of your family and friends present. Paul cooked a special meal and bought a cake, and all is well

Ace

🪐 “Anything special planned for my birthday?”

🪐 “Was that today?”

🪐 You blinked as he burst into his unique fit of laughter. Of course he wouldn’t forget, silly. You were just so cute and fun to mess with

🪐 In actuality Ace had planned a romantic drive around town followed by a moonlit picnic for the two of you complete with stargazing

🪐 He’s not the best cook, but it’s the thought that counts, or something like that anyway. He made (or bought) all your favorites

🪐 When he’s not messing around, he’s actually pretty romantic and will gladly hold a deep conversation with you… for as long as he can manage

🪐 “Hey! Did I ever tell you about that time I got abducted by aliens?” he laughed

🪐 You shook your head. Oh, sweet, precious Ace

Gene

😈 Over the top is an understatement with this one

😈 Gene’s known as the businessman behind KISS for a reason. Of course he’s going to enjoy the perks of the b(r)ands success

😈 Which is fair, but the private yacht was just over the top in your humble opinion. Still, here you were on a yacht in the middle of the lake

😈 This demon spared no expense in giving you what he considered to be a perfect birthday. Who doesn’t want to eat dinner and spend the night on a giant luxury boat with the person they love?

😈 You’ll spend the whole evening talking, soaking in the hot tub, watching the sunset and doing whatever the hell else you want… because you can

😈 If you’re lucky, you might be able to convince him to give you an exclusive performance of “My Uncle Is a Raft”

😈 Overall, 10/10. Being spoiled on your birthday is the best

Peter

🐱 Two words: simple and quiet.

🐱 Peter’s just never been a big fan of the grandiosity of rock and roll and you love him for it

🐱 A nice dinner at your favorite and a movie at the drive in, complete with a lovely gift that you’ve been wanting for ages is how Peter shows his love for you on your special day

🐱 At home, you’re surprised with your favorite drink and snack as you settle in to listen to his vast record collection

🐱 Peter’s definitely inclined to touch, am I right? Of course I am. Enjoy being ensnared in a warm embrace and given all the physical affection you desire from your very own cat, man

Tommy

⚡️ Look, Tommy radiates dad energy. And that means celebrating your birthday in the universal dad love language: by remembering literally everything you’ve ever mentioned even remotely liking and giving it to you

⚡️ Love a specific kind of chocolate? What about wine? Cookies? Well, good thing he bought a hundred of each to surprise you

⚡️ Same goes for the day’s activities. Whatever you want, you’re doing it. Going to your favorite museum? Laying by the pool? You got it. He just wants to spend time with you and give you the attention you deserve

⚡️ He’ll take you to your favorite restaurant for dinner and guess what? He’ll tell you he bought a 500 dollar gift card so you can come whenever you like

⚡️ Is it excessive? Maybe. Does Tommy care? Not really. He wants to shower you with love and attention and show how much he cares for you. Queens should have everything, after all

Eric

🥁 Eric doesn't believe in traditional birthdays- or any occasion for that matter. Why? Because he sees every day as special and a reason to show his love for you. He doesn’t need a day on the calendar to dictate how he treats you

🥁 Of course he’ll still acknowledge the passing of another year of your life with a small gift and a sweet “happy birthday”, but that’s about it

🥁 The rest of the day’s itinerary is entirely up to you. If you want to do something, he’ll take you to do it. If you just want to go about your life as normal, then that’s fine too. He’d rather focus on how you feel

🥁 As long as you feel just how much he loves and cherishes you, that’s all that matters. Your happiness is gift enough for the both of you 🖤

[watchmegetobsessed]

Tastes Like Strawberries - Harry Styles

a/n: oh this one is a long boi and might not be the end??? i’ve been working on this fic for days and i have an idea for a possible second part, but i wrote this one so it has a fulfilling ending so it can stand as a oneshot as well! i barely just started working on the sequel, we’ll se how it’ll turn out, maybe it goes to shit lmao but whatever, it’s still a nice and whole story without a second part! this is my V-day gift to you all, have this nice professor!harry fic as if it was a box of chocolate! 🍓 🍫 🍬

special thanks to @pastequeharry​ who put up with my constant rambling and whining while i was writing this, you are a hero, his is dedicated to you!!

pairing: professor!Harry x Reader

warning: sexual content, abusing relationship, it’s got smut, angst, lot’s of banter and all that jazz!

word count: 21.4k

masterlist

There’s just a handful of things to know about Professor Harry Styles and that’s because of one of those very few known facts, the first one being that he is a highly private person. He rarely talks about himself or any aspects of his life, he always makes sure to keep it as professional as possible whenever he is teaching.

Second, he is easily the smartest professor to ever walk on campus, but he doesn’t like to brag about it. You never catch him showing off how much he knows, how big of a genius he is, you’ll just start to realize from the way he teaches and approaches certain topics, how he interacts with others and tries to pass his knowledge down to his students. He is brilliant and he should have all the credits for it, yet he still chooses to keep it to himself.

Third, and it’s the most well-known fact because to see this you just need to have a pair of eyes, he is undeniably the most handsome man to ever teach or if you’re being more precise, walk the hallways of the university. No football crazy, alcoholic fratboy or dreamy looking indie guy from the library can live up to what Professor Harry Styles is. With a face clearly carved by the angels, a nicely built but not too muscular frame, and occasionally displayed tattooed arm that makes you wonder what other artworks his stylish outfits are hiding, there’s no man like him and every female on campus agrees with that.

His lectures and courses are jampacked with sighing and heart-eyed college girls, daydreaming about the man who is solemnly just trying to teach the things he is so passionate about. But it’s not just the students, Professor Styles has managed to charm the female professors of all faculties, you can see them wander by his office way too often, they take any opportunity to talk to the man and try to seduce him. It’s unknown if he is oblivious to the effect he has on women or he chooses to ignore every and any attempts, but this is what leads us to the fourth fact.

Despite all the effort and energy that’s been put into his case by every single woman on campus to break the walls the professor has built around himself, he never let any of his students or colleagues to even think they could be romantically linked for real. Professor Styles keeps his distance and turns down any offer that could be mistaken to anything that doesn’t fit in the professional boundaries.

Anytime a student puts on the slightest flirtatious act towards the professor, he either rejects it straight away or ignores it completely and blatantly, making it his clear answer that he is not interested and then he goes back to teaching. You’ve seen it yourself, having him as one of your professors first year of uni, you fell for him just like every other girl in the lecture hall, dreaming about him in ways you probably shouldn’t think of a teacher while he was just casually talking about his grading system and how he is going to build up the lectures throughout the semester. Some brave girls who you assume were highly celebrated by boys in high school took the courage to openly flirt with him, but he didn’t even flinch before shutting all attempts down, not even a blush appeared on his perfectly cut cheekbones.

You thought of ways you’d try to seduce him yourself, but you never actually tried. You never had the balls to actually give it a go and then suffer from the worst embarrassment of your life when he rejects you. So you kept it all to yourself, only entertaining yourself with your elaborate plans about the seduction of your professor.

Second year passed without any classes with Professor Styles, you had only occasionally seen him come and go, rushing down the hallways holding his notebooks to his chest, a steaming cup of coffee in his other hand as he was heading to his lecture hall that you just knew was filled with girls. You always took a moment to yourself to admire his outfit. He has a tendency to pair odd items and make them look like the most put together fit ever that only he can pull off. However, you and your girlfriends always loved to tease him between each other for his grandpa-like sweaters and vests he seemed to love dearly.

“He confuses me, because I want him to fuck me on his desk but also, I feel like he is about to ask me what periodt means because he is too old to understand slang these days,” your friend, Nat said once when your little group was lounging under the huge oak tree between classes and the professor rushed past you, disappearing in the building without paying any of you a look. He wore a pair of beige slacks and a striped sweater, a wrinkly grey shirt peeking from under it at the bottom. The colors and the style overall once again gave you that old people feeling, but then you looked at his handsome face and couldn’t care any less about whatever he was wearing.

The most intimate way you ever saw him was a few days after your twenty-first birthday the summer before your last year of uni started. You just got back from your hometown, the first person to arrive back to your shared flat with Nat and Eden, so you had a few days on your own. You decided to redecorate your room so you took a trip to IKEA, taking your time looking through the set up rooms, just wandering around as you try to figure out what you really want to buy. Walking through the living room section you spotted the professor and first, you didn’t even recognize him.

He was wearing a pair of bright yellow shorts and a short sleeved shirt with floral prints on it, a pair of white framed sunglass on top of his head, keeping his unruly strands out of his face as he was eyeing a couch, seemingly deep in his thoughts. You stopped in your tracks, seeing him in such a casual and everyday setting. For some reason, he seemed like a completely different person.

A woman was there with him and as you walked closer you could hear a fraction of their discussion.

“I don’t know, Gems. Do I need a couch this big?”

“Looks comfy and I like the color. It would also fit in the space just right, I think you should get the bigger one if you have the space for it,” the woman put her two cents in and you wondered who she could be. Girlfriend? Just a casual friend? Maybe fiancé? She did have a ring that could easily go as an engagement ring so you couldn’t tell for sure.

As you were about to walk past you suddenly took the courage to say hi.

“Hello, Professor Styles!” you greeted him with a warm smile and his eyes flickered over to you from the couch in question. One thing you always admired about him is that he never forgot the faces of his students and as he looked at you, you knew he recognized you even if he didn’t know your name specifically.

“Oh, hello,” he nodded in your way.

“I like the couch,” you commented before slowly moving on. “Have a nice rest of your summer!”

“You too, Y/N,” he called after you and it took you by surprise that he remembered your name. Your lecture he taught had almost over a hundred students in it and you weren’t the most active one to stand out that easily, yet he still remembered you more than you were expecting.

That small encounter kept you thinking about him for way longer than you probably should have, especially because you knew you’d have a lecture with him again in the upcoming semester. Your daydreams about him made their way back into your mind as you spent the last days of your summer mostly with your friends. It got you thinking that if you managed to get him to remember your name, maybe you would give one of your plans a go and shoot your shot. He wouldn’t be teaching you in your last semester so you wouldn’t have to face him after he rejects you.

And this is how you came up with your little scheme.

On your last Sunday evening before school starts, you, Nat and Eden sit in the floor of your living room, drinking some white wine as a way of saying goodbye to the carefree summer moments and getting back to the working days of being a senior at uni. Professor Styles came up completely randomly and you let it slip that you’ve just seen him recently at IKEA with a woman and it all led to you admitting that you’ll finally shoot your shot at the professor. Nat and Eden both did the same already, however their attempts were completely ignored and they always bugged you to give it a try yourself, being the only one in your group who hasn’t tried to seduce the professor yet.

“I’ll tell you, but you can’t tell me it’s stupid because I actually think it’ll be funny and a little bit genius,” you tell them before you start sharing the details on your plan.

“Just spill the beans already!” Eden pokes you before she reaches for the bottle and refills her glass.

“Okay, so you both know I took this psychology class last semester for extra credits, right?” The nod and you continue. “The teacher told us about this thing called classical conditioning or they call it pavlovian response too. The guy, Pavlov, did an experiment where he paired the feeding of dogs with a bell ring and after a certain amount of time the dogs started salivating at just the sound of the bell, because they remembered that it’s connected to food. The teacher said this is literally one of the easiest tricks to pull on people.”

“Oh, isn’t this one of the things Jim did on Dwight in The Office?” Nat asks furrowing her eyebrows.

“It is!” you nod, glad that they are understanding the base of your plan. “So, I’ve heard that Professor Styles loves strawberry flavored candies. I thought that I would bring some every day when I see him and offer him some. Slowly, he’ll pair the candy with the thought of me and he’ll get excited when he sees me because he’ll think I have candy for him and it will hopefully work the other way around and he’ll think of me when he is eating strawberry flavored candy that’s not from me.”

Your friends blink at you for a moment, processing what you just shared with them before Eden takes a huge sip of her drink.

“This is the most ridiculous but also the most genius thing I’ve ever heard,” she nods holding her glass up towards you.

“I can’t believe you will pull a psychological experiment on Professor Styles,” Nat shakes her head with a soft chuckle.

“It’s not a blunt way to get closer to him and if he accuses me of trying to flirt I can just say that I’ve been only sharing candy with him, I literally did nothing,” you point out, pretty proud of your solution to your deep fear of having to take his rejection publicly.

“If you get a Noble for this shit, make sure to thank us in your speech,” Eden laughs and you promise to do so when the big moment comes.

Monday morning you make a quick trip to Target and buy a big bag of strawberry flavored candies, probably enough to last for the whole semester, and then you make your way to campus. Following your first lecture you meet up with Eden who also signed up for Professor Styles’ lecture this semester, so the two of you make your way towards the lecture hall together.

“I really can’t believe you are doing this,” she chuckles when you get the candy ready as you near the room. The professor is always the first one in the lecture hall so you know you’ll find him there already.

“You can’t tell me it’s not a funny plan,” you smirk at her. And just as you walk in, you immediately spot the professor sitting at the desk at the front, going over the syllabus before the start. “Save a seat for me,” you tell Eden who just laughs and makes her way up the stairs along the desks.

Grabbing the pack of sweets from your bag you walk up to the professor, feeling confident with your plan. He lifts his head up when he notices your arrival and your eyes meet with his green ones.

“Hello, professor. Would you like some candy?” you simply ask with an innocent smile.

Professor Styles stares at you for a moment before his eyes move down to the candy in your hand, the opening of the bag facing him in a welcoming manner.

“I, uhh… what flavor?” he curiously asks and you can barely push down your smirk.

“Strawberry.”

“Oh. I’ll… take one, thank you,” he nods, hand reaching into the bag as he grabs just one single candy, unwrapping the package before he pops it into his mouth. “Thank you,” he nods again with a delightful smile.

“Of course. Did you buy the couch?” you ask, taking slow steps away from the desk as he keeps his eyes on you.

“I… did not. Bought another one,” he admits shortly and you know you’ve reached the limit. If you ask more, he’ll get suspicious, so you just nod smiling before walking up to the spot Eden has reserved for you. When you sit down, you catch the professor paying you one last glance before he returns to what he was previously doing.

“You are a genius, because now we can watch him suck on a fucking candy for the next few minutes,” Eden mumbles quietly, making you laugh.

“I knew this would be a good plan,” you sigh, satisfied with the work you’ve done. Now it’s just a matter of time.

Every Monday and Wednesday, you arrive with the same bag of candy to the lecture hall, walk up to Professor Styles and offer him one. And he always takes one. The first few times he seems hesitant when he spots you approaching him, but he slowly grows used to your tiny act of kindness that occurs every time you see him. On week three you expand the plan. You usually have lunch with Nat on Thursdays since you both have a break between one and two pm. The two of you try to take advantage of the warm early autumn days and sit under the pergola that’s near the building where Professor Styles’ office is as well. It’s mere coincidence, you only like that place because it’s close to the lecture hall you have to go to after lunch, but you notice that the professor emerges from Building C around one thirty, walking back to his office probably after one of his classes. The sidewalk runs directly next to the pergola so it gives you a chance to bring the candy out one more time every week. You nicely greet him when he is nearing the two of you and then hold out the bag, asking if he wants some. He always takes one and thanks you with a sweet smile that leaves you a tad bit blushed.

“I can’t fucking believe your plan is working,” Nat chuckles in disbelief on one occasion when the professor just disappeared in the building, probably happily unwrapping his candy of the day.

“It’s funny, innit?” you grin at her proudly.

Frankly, this is just a fun experiment for you. You don’t actually think that the professor will think of you differently even the slightest. You might be able to plant the thought of you in his head, but that doesn’t instantly mean that he’ll start fancying you and actually do something about it. It would be ridiculously naïve to think it’s going to be you who breaks through the wall that hundreds of women had already tried to knock down.

Week six is what brings the breakthrough. After long consideration and discussion with Nat and Eden, you decide to test if the experiment has been successful. You offer one last candy on Monday, but Wednesday brings the change. You go to lecture without candy. Well, you have it on you, but you decide not to ask him if he wants some.

Walking into the lecture hall, as always, he is already sitting at his desk, flipping through the pages of a book when you walk up to him with the intention of asking him a question on the paper that’s due next week.

“Professor Styles?” you softly speak up, catching his attention. “Can I have a question about the paper?”

“Of course,” he nods and you can’t tell just yet if he was expecting the candy or not.

“I was wondering if I can use a diagram to visualize my results at the end. I have a brilliant idea to summarize the data with one.”

“Sure, just make sure to give credit wherever it’s due, if you are using someone else’s work for the diagram.”

“Definitely,” you smile at him and wait a moment. That’s where you see the anticipation in his eyes.

His gaze flickers down to your hands and then to your bag where you always carry the candy and when his eyes meet yours again, you see him swallow hard.

He was expecting the candy. Not only expecting, but he started salivating when he saw you, thinking that he would get the candy from you as always.

“Is… that all?” he asks, the slightest hint of hope appearing in his tone, probably waiting for you to pull the bag of candy out of your bag and offer him one. But it’s not happening today.

“Yes, thank you very much,” you nod smiling widely before you turn around and walk away, a shocked and triumphant look appearing on your face once he can’t see it anymore and when Eden sees you, she gasps.

“He fucking expected the candy, didn’t he?!” she whispers at you in shock and you nod frantically, still not believing your plan worked.

“You should have seen the anticipation in his eyes, he really thought I was gonna offer him some!”

“Oh my God, this is hilarious!” Eden laughs covering her mouth as the lecture hall starts to fill up slowly.

Turning forward, you see that the professor is sitting behind his desk, the book that had his attention before your arrival is long forgotten in front of him, now he is staring ahead of him with slightly furrowed eyebrows, deep in his thoughts.

Is he thinking about you? Or why he was expecting candy from you?

You see him reach for his water bottle and he takes two big gulps probably to wash away his need for the candy before he narrows his eyes and at last they find you in the auditorium. You tilt your head to the side innocently smiling, as if you know absolutely nothing about anything. You keep eye-contact, forcing you not to be the one who breaks it and he is intimidating. You feel like he can read your mind as he stares at you and when he finally turns his gaze back at the book, you exhale sharply.

The lecture goes down just as usual and when the professor dismisses the class you decide to put the cherry to the top. Walking down between the desks you grab a candy from your bag and while the professor is talking to a girl who also had a question about the paper, you place the candy to his desk next to his book. He doesn’t see you walk out and you don’t see him when he finds it, but something is telling you he figured you out. No way a man as smart as him doesn’t realize what game you’ve been playing with him.

Sitting under the pergola on Thursday you are deep in discussion with Nat, helping her with a task sheet she has to turn in after lunch but she completely forgot about it. As the two of you are trying to do the seemingly endless sheet, you don’t even notice the professor walking from Building C, as always, but he spots you.

“No, I don’t think that’s even a thing, you can’t write that,” you tell Nat, but she shakes her head.

“I don’t care if it’s a thing, I just want to fill in the whole thing so the teacher doesn’t think I finished it in twenty minutes before class,” she mumbles, scribbling down her answer as you just chuckle at her.

Suddenly, you see a pair of dusty Vans appear in your sight and as your eyes move up, you are facing none other than Professor Styles, standing right in front of you, holding out his hand with his hand turned upwards, a cheeky smile tugging on his lips. His appearance takes you by surprise and for a moment you just dumbly stare down at his palm, then up at his eyes.

“Very smart. Pulling a pavlovian on me with my favorite candy,” he speaks up, dropping his hand as he cocks his head to the side. Nat looks up from her sheet with wide eyes as you stare at the professor with blushing cheeks.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, professor,” you tell him with a knowing smirk.

“Of course. You know, it took me a moment to realize yesterday, but I wanted to let you know that… I think it was clever.”

“If I knew anything about what you’re talking about… I would say thank you. But I stand up for my innocence.”

“Surely,” he chuckles softy. “Have a great rest of your week,” he then nods before turning around to walk away, but you quickly reach into your bag and grab a candy.

“Professor Styles!” you call out and he turns back just in time to catch the candy you throw in his way. He glances at it in his palm before his eyes snap up to you again, smirking at you shortly before he disappears in the building.

“Okay, call me stupid, but I could feel the sexual tension between the two of you,” Nat says as soon as the professor is out of sight.

“Don’t be silly, it was just… a joke and he liked it.”

“He called you clever, Y/N!”

“No, he called my trick clever.”

“But you came up with it so you’re clever too. Say whatever you want, but I actually think you have a shot at him.”

“I definitely don’t,” you laugh shaking your head and you genuinely believe it. Nat scoffs before she gets back to her sheet, but not without having one last thought about the situation.

“We’ll be laughing at how you brainwashed him into liking you when you’ll be dating for years, living together and all that shit.”

You’ve made some very questionable choices in your dating life prior. Like when you dated a boy in high school and let him take your virginity at the back of his mom’s minivan just to break up with your right after that, or when you briefly dated the guy you met at the mall, but it later turned out he was gay and he used you as his cover up in front of his family. But the worst decision of all was dating an egoistic forty years old loser who just freshly got divorced and went after you at some tacky bar you were at with your friends.

The time you spent dating Victor is way less than the time he has been bothering you, trying to make you go back to him when you’ve actually told him you don’t want anything to do with him anymore. You broke up with him just before you went home for the summer and he didn’t take it well, even drove up to your hometown and showed up at your parents’ house drunk, begging for you to take him back. He never stood a chance, not after that one time he slapped you across the face during a fight the two of you had. You tolerate a lot of things but not violence and you don’t believe him when he says it was just a onetime thing. There’s no guarantee he won’t hit you ever again and you are definitely not waiting around to see if he told you the truth.

On this particular late October evening you are searching through your whole room looking for a book you know you have, but can’t seem to find anywhere. It’s your holy bible about research methodology and you need it for your thesis work, but it seems like the small apartment has completely swallowed it.

“Didn’t you leave it at Victor’s? You were working on that long essay when you were dating him, saw you use the book all the time,” Eden tells you when you ask her if she’s seen it anywhere and then it clicks.

She is right, now you remember leaving the book at his once and you completely forgot to pick it up after things got nasty between the two of you.

“Damn it,” you growl in annoyance.

Not feeling like calling him, you send him a quick text, hoping he still has it and hasn’t burned it after one of your fights.

Y/N: Hey, I think I left my research methodology book at yours. You still have it?

Victor: I do.

Y/N: Cool, can I drop by to pick it up?

Victor: I’m leaving for work, you can come to the bar if you want it.

You sigh in defeat. Victor is a bartender at a place that’s all the way across town, takes almost an entire hour to get there, but you are left with no other choice.

Y/N: Okay, I’ll see you there.

The raining has finally stopped this morning so you feel better leaving the house than you would have if it was still pouring. You take the bus and travel across town, feeling anxious to see Victor again. Last time you met him he cursed you out and threw his phone at you, barely missing your head. You promised yourself you wouldn’t go near him again after that, but it seems like you can never get completely rid of him.

Students rarely come to this part of the town, it’s way too far from campus and has nothing to offer that can’t be found closer to the dormitories or the school’s buildings. It’s not entirely your scene either, the bars around here are liked by older generations, not by people your age, this is another reason why you don’t like coming around here.

The bar where Victor works is a place where they have different local bands perform every Friday and Saturday. It’s not a tacky nook with creepy dudes, they actually have prices on the higher end, not something you can necessarily afford with your part time job’s paycheck from the small accounting office near your apartment where you work as an assistant on your free afternoons.

Walking into the place you immediately spot Victor behind the bar and you take a deep breath before you walk up to him.

“Hey,” you call out for him, taking one of the stools along the bar.

“Hey. Long time no see.”

“Happens when you break up with someone,” you respond with a little spice and he frowns at your words. “Can you give me the book?”

“I’ll have a break in ten, can you wait for that or you have something extra urgent shit to do, as always?” You can tell he is still bitter from how things ended between the two of you, but you’ve learned not to care about it. His way of dealing with the breakup is not your responsibility, no matter how hard he is trying to prove it wrong.

You roll your eyes but nod, knowing well there’s no use to fight him. Ten minutes is not the end of the world. Busying yourself on your phone, you try to stay unnoticed and luckily, Victor can’t keep chatting with you, because customers keep coming up to him and ordering drinks. When he finally has his break he tells you to follow him to the back.

“So how have you been?” he asks as you walk down the hallway that leads to the small break room, there’s an office at the end and some kind of changing room you guess for the bands, along with a storage.

“Fine.”

“You really gonna be a bitter bitch and not talk to me?” he asks you, giving you a disgusted look, but you know it’s just the anger talking from him.

“Victor, I didn’t come here to talk, I just need my book!”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t answer my question.”

“I answered it! I’ve been fine, now give me the damn book!” you growl, losing your patience with him, but he is seemingly in the same shoes.

“When will you stop being a bitch and just drop this ridiculous act, Y/N? I’ve been after you for months yet you keep ignoring me!”

“Did it ever occur to you that I’m ignoring you because I don’t want anything to do with you? Victor, it’s been months, just… move the fuck on! Go cry to your ex-wife or something, I don’t care!”

You didn’t mean to snap, but he always brings the worst out of you. From the corner of your eyes you can see movement at the other end of the hallway where the changing room is, but you don’t get to pay much attention to it, because the next moment Victor grabs you by your arm and yanks you towards him.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that! You ungrateful slut, I swear…”

There’s little you can do, he is twice as big as you are, his grip on your arm so strong there’s no doubt it will leave a mark. Your heart is racing as you try to pull yourself out of his hold, but he doesn’t even bat an eye at your attempt.

However, before he could drag you into the empty breakroom to do god knows what, he is stopped by a voice.

“Hey! Let her go!”

If you weren’t shocked enough at his violent reaction, now you are definitely think you’re going nuts, because it’s none other than Professor Styles who is now nearing you with a hard expression on his face, two other guys following right behind him and though none of them are bigger than Victor, he knows he can’t just start a fight with three men.

Your chest is heaving when the professor finally reaches you and Victor’s hold lets go of you, making you fall back a little.

“You perform here twice and think you’re some kind of rockstar?” Victor spats at the professor, but you’re a little lost in what’s really going on. Professor Styles gently grabs your wrist and pulls you behind him, eyes never leaving Victor’s burning gaze.

“You alright?” one of the other two men asks and you nod, not finding your voice to actually speak.

“Get the hell out of my sight before I call the police on you,” the professor answers in a calm yet threatening voice

Victor takes a second to himself, thinking about the choices he has before he turns around and disappears in the breakroom, slamming the door behind him, leaving you in complete shock about what just happened.

Professor Styles then turns around, his eyes soften at seeing how shaken you are and quite frankly, you feel like you are in a bad and quite weird dream.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he asks, clearly worried about you and you just shake your head no.

“I-I’m fine, I think,” you mumble out of breath.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” the guy who asked if you’re alright suggests and you nod in agreement, following them kind of blindly, the three of them keeping you in their little circle as you walk out to the bar and they don’t stop until you are out of the place in the cold night air. You slowly come back to reality and process that Professor Styles just saved you out of fucking nowhere from your abusive asshole ex. That’s what you call a plot twist.

You finally take a moment to look at the other two guys, they both look the same age as the professor, or maybe a little older, both of them are rocking some facial hair, the one that asked you seems a little more open while the other one quite reserved but friendly looking.

“What… What were you doing back there?” you ask, turning to face the professor. He clearly seems upset, but you’re not sure if it’s entirely because of what happened with Victor back then or because you are standing outside some random bar on a Saturday night, definitely crossing his personal boundaries he keeps so high at school.

“We played here tonight, was just about to leave when I saw you.”

“You have a band?” you ask, shocked at the detail.

“A pretty good one,” the talkative guy chuckles. “I’m Adam, nice to meet you. This is Mitch.”

You shake hands with them introducing yourself as well.

“Y/N is… my student,” the professor adds as if he is clearing the air for his bandmates, a kind of warning for them.

From the direction of the parking lot two women emerge, laughing on something as they walk up to the four of you, both of them eyeing you curiously.

“Hey boys, who is this pretty girl?”

“Sarah, Charlotte, this is Y/N, she is my student. Y/N, these are my other band mates, Sarah and Charlotte,” the professor introduces you as you shake hands with them quickly.

“I-I’m sorry I interrupted your time with your friends, professor,” you shyly apologize, feeling like a complete intruder all of a sudden with all his bandmates around you.

“Interrupt? Sweetheart, that dude was about to do some unforgivable things to you, don’t apologize for needing help,” Adam snorts. “You’re lucky we were there.”

“What? What happened?” Sarah asks in confusion.

“Just… my asshole ex got a little too violent when I didn’t want to chit-chat with him,” you admit with a defeated sigh.

“Oh shit, but are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you smile faintly, though you still can feel his grip on your upper arm. “I, um… I better get going, I guess. Thank you for… the saving,” you say, a little lost about what should be said in this situation.

“You’re leaving? We were just about to go to a much better place, why don’t you come with us, forget about your ex a little?” Charlotte offers and you catch the professor’s panicked look for a split second.

“I, um… I don’t think I should, but thank you.”

“Why shouldn’t you?” Sarah questions.

“Because I know how Professor Styles hates to mingle with students outside of lectures and I don’t want to cross any lines,” you truthfully admit. The professor furrows his eyebrows.

“I don’t hate mingling with students,” he states.

“Well, you are surely not the most reachable professor on campus,” you chuckle lightly. “But it’s fine, I understand it. So I’ll just head home.”

“Come on, Harry. Let her tag along for just one drink!” Sarah begs and seemingly everyone would be happy to have you join for a little. The professor’s eyes meet yours, as if he is contemplating whether he should say yes or let you go home. When he finally speaks up you’re more surprised than when you realized it was him saving you from Victor.

“I guess you could use a drink after what happened in there,” he says, the tiniest smirk showing on his lips as your eyes shoot up.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, come on,” he nods and your little group heads down the street.

Turns out the place they were heading to was just two corners down, so they left all their stuff at the minivan at the parking lot for the time being. You slide into an empty booth, Adam and Mitch go to get the first round, so it’s just the three of you girls and the professor.

“So you’re in one of Harry’s lectures?” Charlotte asks with a warm smile.

“Yeah, for the second time, actually. Had him in first year, now it’s my fifth semester and I had no doubt I have to take his class if I have the chance.” You pay a glance at him, but he is staring at his hands on his lap, you can’t tell if it’s because he is uncomfortable with you there or if it’s something else.

“It’s so funny, because we’ve heard that he is known to be a good teacher but we never actually heard it from one of his students,” Sarah chuckles. “What’s he like?”

“Sarah, you enjoy talking about me when I’m very much present?” he scoffs, giving her a look, but she just shrugs innocently.

“Come on, I bet even you’re curious about what your students think of you. Now is your time to find it out!”

“I think Professor Styles knows very well that he is one of the best, if not the actual best,” you truthfully say and see him raise his eyebrows a little.

“What makes him so good?” Charlotte questions.

You glance at him again, as a way of asking for permission if you can answer. You definitely don’t want to make him even more uncomfortable by talking about him when he is right next to you. He looks into your eyes, and his expression tells you that he wants to hear your answer as well, but he quickly adds:

“You don’t have to answer, Y/N.”

“It’s not a secret,” you admit it with a smile. “Professor Styles’ lectures always leave you with a question to think about until next week, he is great at getting into your head without you even noticing. He explains the most complicated things in so simple ways, it should be taught,” you say with a soft chuckle. “I think his enormous knowledge about many different fields in science and just life in general is amusing, anyone can learn something from him, it’s guaranteed.”

“Wow, where is this academic genius side of yours when you’re around us, or we only get to see the dad joke version of you?” Sarah teases him and you can’t push down a laugh, imagining him cracking dad jokes feels so alien but still kind of fitting for him.

“That’s what you get when you’re a nosy little thing,” he retorts with a small smirk. He then turns to you, and as Sarah and Charlotte are laughing on something, he lowly tells you: “You can call me Harry outside of school. Feels weird that you call me professor when my friends are around.”

“You sure?”

He nods and you spot a small smile on his lips. He must be getting used to the feel of you being there, but you still don’t want to push his limits too much.

“Can I ask you something?” he questions, leaning back in his seat.

“Of course.”

“If your ex is this aggressive, why were you there with him?”

His question is surprising, you didn’t think he would ask you something personal, but you guess it’s a valid question after he just saved you from Victor.

“I wanted to get a book back that I left at his place. Didn’t even get to the point where he could have given it back,” you mumble under your breath.

“What book?”

“Just this… research methodology book, wanted it back for my thesis work, but I guess I’ll have to buy a new one,” you huff bitterly.

“Is it the one written by William Scott?”

“Y-Yeah, it is. You know it?” you ask, but then realize it’s a bit of a dumb question. He probably knows every academically important book you will ever come across.

“I actually have it myself,” he nods. Just then, Mitch and Adam return with the drinks and you thank them for the beer, already reaching for your money to pay, but Adam shakes his head.

“It’s on me, don’t worry.”

You watch as Mitch sits beside Sarah, curling an arm around her shoulders and though you couldn’t have guessed that they are a couple, seeing them like this it actually makes sense, they look cute together.

You take a sip from your beer, trying to join the conversation Sarah and Charlotte are having, when your attention is pulled back by Harry.

“I can… lend you the book, if you want.”

“Oh, you don’t have to. I’ll just get a new one.”

“No, really. I think I even have two copies, I can give one to you.”

“I couldn’t ask you that, prof—I mean Harry.”

“You’re not asking,” he smiles at you softly. “I probably won’t need both, so why not put the extra into use?”

“Okay, but I’ll pay for it,” you insist, but Harry shakes his head.

“No need, one of them was a gift so I didn’t pay for it either.”

“Well… if you’re sure about it, I would love to have that extra copy, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So Y/N, what do you study exactly?” Adam questions, pulling you out of your little discussion with Harry.

“I’m majoring in anthropology, but I’ve been taking some psychology classes on the side just because I’m interested in the topics.”

“And what is Harry teaching you?”

“Had him for intro Sociology lecture first year, now I’m in his Methodology of Cultural Anthropology class.”

“All these subjects with their GY endings, I don’t know how you two put up with science on this level,” Sarah huffs in amusement.

“The names sometimes sound fancier than the subject itself,” you tell her smiling.

“But I bet you need to be quite smart to study these stuff on this level you are at.”

“Oh, it’s just a bachelorette degree, I wouldn’t say I’m that smart,” you chuckle shyly.

“She is totally toning it down,” Harry speaks up, catching everyone’s attention. “I know students tend to take my into Sociology class for just some extra credits so I always give them two options for the semester. They can either write a two pages long review of any article related to the topics talked about at lecture and get their strong C with the bare minimum, or actually participate and do a research of their own and turn in an at least seven pages long essay about their chosen topic. Y/N turned in an eleven pages long paper on the history of death sentences in the U.S. in the last fifty years and how society is thinking about it nowadays. It was easily one of the best works I’ve ever read and it was just an intro class.”

“You remember my essay?” you ask in complete shock.

“Of course. As I said, one of the bests I’ve read,” he nods confidently.

“So you’re like… on Harry’s smart level, actually?” Sarah asks, tilting her head to the side and you can feel yourself blushing.

You’ve always been said to be the smart kid at school, but you never thought it to be true yourself. In your book, you were just doing your absolute best, soaking in whatever knowledge was thrown in your way. You never actually understood how someone could just not study for an exam or not do an assignment, because you always felt like it was your duty to do the best you can. You thought yourself to be more of a hard-working student rather than a smart one.

“She is definitely a bright one,” Harry agrees, his eyes meeting yours as a small smile appears on his lips and you think that this is the biggest compliment you’ve ever gotten. “She actually tricked me with a psychological experiment and I didn’t even realize it,” he laughs and you can’t hold your smirk back.

“What? What did you do?” Charlotte asks, dying to know how you played Harry.

“Have you heard of the Pavlovian response?” you ask looking around and you can tell it rings a bell for all of them.

“The one with the dogs and the bell?” Mitch asks and you nod.

“Wait you did that on Harry?” Adam laughs with wide eyes and you just nod with a sly smile.

“I just offered him strawberry flavored candies every time I saw him. Took me six weeks to build up the response but he actually started expecting it whenever he saw me,” you tell them chuckling to yourself.

“And I only realized it when she stopped with the candy and I felt this massive feeling that something was missing,” Harry adds shaking his head with a soft laugh.

“Okay, that’s hilarious,” Sarah snorts clapping her hands together. “Y/N, I adore you, you’re brilliant!”

“It was just… an experiment,” you shrug shyly.

The night carries much faster than you realize. One drink turns into three and before you could realize, it’s already past midnight. Eden texts you, asking where you are since you said you’d just get the book and go home right away, but it’s been hours.

Y/N: Don’t freak out, but I’m at a bar with Prof. Styles and his friends. I’ll tell you everything tomorrow!

Eden: HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME NOT TO FREAK OUT AFTER READING THIS???!?!

Y/N: Lol, chill. Nothing extra is happening.

Eden: It’s already extra that you’re out with him.

Realizing how late it is, you decide you better get going, since it’s a long way back home. When you tell the little group that you’re about to head out, they all agree that it’s time to part ways and leave, so you all slowly make your way back to the parking lot.

“Do you know where the bus stop is back?” you ask, narrowing your eyes, trying to spot where you should be heading.

“You want to go home by bus at this time?” Harry asks.

“Well, I surely won’t pay for a ride, I live almost an hour away from here.”

“An hour?” he frowns. “I’ll take you home, come on,” he tells you, heading towards the minivan.

“What? No need. The bus is fine,” you protest, but he shakes his head.

“You are not taking the bus at this hour, not under my watch,” he simply states and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Didn’t realize I was under your watch,” you tease him and it seems like your comment caught him off-guard. “Don’t piss your pants, I was just joking,” you tell him, and thought for a second you feel like you are being way too comfortable around him, his smile quickly smashes your doubts.

Sarah, Mitch and Charlotte all take an Uber since they live near each other and Adam is picked up by his wife, so when everyone is off to their own way, you and Harry get in the van and head to your place.

“How long have you had the band?” you ask, in need to break the silence that’s been weighing down on the two of you. “If you don’t mind me asking,” you add quickly when you see him.

“About four years. Used to have another one, but we parted ways.”

“And what do you do in the band?”

“I, uhh… Well I mostly sing but I also play the guitar.”

“You know, I’m not that surprised you can sing,” you chuckle to yourself sinking further down in your seat.

“How come?”

“You have a voice that’s great to listen to at lectures, makes sense that you can sing as well.”

You take a moment to look at his hand that’s gripping the steering wheel, he is the kind that drives with one hand on the wheel, the other one on the shifting gear. He makes it look so easy as he steers the wheel whenever he is turning a corner while his other one easily moves around the shifting gear, his tattoos are peeking from under his rolled up shirt sleeve. He catches you staring and you feel a blush burning on your cheeks as you turn your head to the other side. Maybe you shouldn’t have drunk that third beer…

“Am I really seen that rigid by the students?” he speaks up after a while and you turn back to face him.

“What do you mean?”

“You said I’m known about not mingling with students.”

“Well, you don’t mingle, do you? But it doesn’t mean you come off as rigid. More like… closed-off. Private.”

“I know I should be a little friendlier, but I just…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, I think everyone gets it why you’re like that.”

“Do they?” he arches an eyebrow.

“Well, you’re obviously a ladies’ favorite, but it doesn’t sit well with you being a person of some sort of power. It’s clear that you don’t want anyone to get the wrong picture about you. I’ve seen how bluntly girls are flirting with you, some of them are quite scandalous if you ask me,” you huff to yourself. “I totally get it that you don’t want even just a rumor to spread about you.”

“Didn’t think I was that obvious,” he admits, running his tongue over his lips.

“Don’t worry about it, you’re still a highly fancied professor, in all means,” you tell him with a warm smile.

“Does this mean you also fancy me?” he suddenly questions and your lips part at his words. He quickly realizes how ambiguous he just sounded. “I mean, am I one of your favorites? Where do I stand in your chart of professors?”

You can’t tell for sure because of the lack of lighting, but you could have sworn there’s a light blush on his cheeks as he corrects himself. Because of this, you don’t know for sure if he really meant it academically. Either way, the answer is the same.

“You’re my favorite,” you confidently state and your eyes meet for a moment before he turns back to face the road.

The rest of the ride is pretty quiet, you keep giving him directions to your place until you finally arrive a little before one am.

“Well, thank you for the ride,” you smile at him, grabbing the door handle.

“See you on Monday,” he nods shortly and watches as you get out of the can.

“Yeah, see you, professor,” you smirk before shutting the door and walking up the stairs and disappearing in your building.

“Was that Professor Styles in the fucking minivan?!” Nat throws the question at you the moment you open the front door.

“Jesus, why are you still up?” you sigh, shutting the door and shimmying yourself out of your coat.

“Because we were waiting for you!” Eden rolls her eyes. “So, care to tell us what the fuck just happened?” The three of you get comfortable on the couch and you give them a quick rundown of your evening from meeting Victor through being saved by Harry right to him offering to drive you home and they listen to you with wide eyes in complete shock that you just spent your entire evening with the most handsome professor on campus who also happens to be the most private as well.

“If I didn’t see him sitting in that van with my own eyes I would straight up think you’re lying, but I saw his tattooed hand over the windshield,” Nat gasps, processing the story.

“I know, I still feel like it didn’t happen, but it did.”

“And what is he like around his friends? What are his friends like?” Eden questions, hugging her knees to her chest.

“He is pretty much just like in lecture, just jokes a little more and he has a looser vocab. His friends are hilarious, I really got along with Sarah.”

“I know you still think it won’t happen, but I actually think you have a shot at him, Y/N,” Eden points it out and you just chuckle.

“Why, because he saved me from my douche ex?”

“No, because he let you stay for the night with him and his friends. This is literally the first ever time a student hung out with him.”

“It’s not that big of a deal, Harry is a reserved and private person—“

“Harry?!” they gasp at the same time.

“You are now just casually calling him Harry?” Nat asks with ogling eyes.

“Well, yes, he asked me to, because it felt weird that I was calling him Professor Styles with his friends around.”

“Okay, I’m giving it… let’s say, he seems to be moving pretty slow, but y’all will be fucking in about six months,” Nat bluntly tells you and it makes you laugh.

“Oh, sure, whatever. I’m gonna shower and head to bed, you two don’t get too crazy with your fairytales,” you wave at them before disappearing in the bathroom.

The rest of the weekend goes by uneventfully, outside of the pathetic attempt from Victor to get you to talk to him, but you’ve had enough of him for a life so you finally block his number and hope you won’t ever see him again.

Both you and Eden oversleep on Monday morning, skipping your early morning lecture and already being late for Harry’s class as well, so you barely make it to Harry’s class in time, just sprinting up the rows, flopping down to your usual seats when Harry starts the lecture. It all goes as usual as if nothing really happened during the weekend, Harry doesn’t seem to be bothered by it at all. Glancing over at his desk you spot the book he promised you and you can’t hold your smile back. Still grinning, your eyes accidentally meet with his gaze and he stops for a heartbeat as if he is questioning why you are so smiley, but you just shake your head and he carries on before anyone could suspect a thing.

“I gotta run, my favorite TA is having his office hours now and I have a few questions for him. See you at home?” Eden asks once the lecture is over and you are getting ready to leave.

“Sure, have a good day!” you call after her and she sings a ‘you too!’ before running out of the room.

You pack up and head down between the rows, Harry spotting you right away and you go up to him without him even asking you to.

“Hey, sorry we were a little late to class this morning,” you tell him and he just shakes his head kindly.

“No worries. How… is your arm?” He furrows his eyebrows, his gaze wandering down to your forearm where Victor grabbed you on Saturday.

“Oh, it’s fine. I just have a little bruise,” you shrug, because it really isn’t that big deal, but you can tell Harry is still outraged by what happened.

“M’sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. Would be worse if you weren’t there,” you smile at him kindly and he nods to himself before turning to his desk.

“I, uhh, I brought the book we talked about,” he shyly says grabbing it from the desk. As people are exiting the room you can feel the glares on yourself, most of them are probably trying to figure out why Harry is talking to you for so long, but you don’t pay much attention to them as you take the book he hands you.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to pay for it?”

“No need, keep it, it’s yours,” he shakes his head with a small smile.

“Thank you then.” You slide the book into your bag before looking back up at him. “Well, I’ll see you on Wednesday, professor,” you smile warmly before heading out.

“See you!” he calls after you before you close the door behind you.

The week carries on as usual, you are working on papers that needs to be turned in before the fall break so you spend some extra time at the library, using every bit of free time you have so you finish everything on time.

Things go back to kind of normal with Harry, he greets you in the mornings when you walk into the lecture hall and other than the warm smile he occasionally gives you, nothing has changed.

Friday however brings a surprise, but not from Harry. You’re sitting at work in the afternoon, typing away on your computer, filling in some sheets when you get a notification on your phone from Instagram.

Sarah Jones is now following you!

You tap on her profile but see that it’s private so without a second thought you request following. Luckily, she approves you only a few seconds later and you gain access to her posts, quite a few of them featuring Harry on them.

Photos of birthdays, weekend getaways, band practices and performances, Harry makes a lot of appearances on her feed and you find yourself scrolling all the way down until you reach the first few posts from 2016. Just as you are about to leave her profile you get a message from her.

Sarah: Hey Y/N! Charlotte and I’ve been talking about you recently, loved having you with us last Saturday! Want to grab a drink with the two of us this weekend?

Y/N: Would love to, but I’m not sure Harry would like the idea…

Sarah: He won’t be there and besides, who is he to tell you who you can and can’t hang out with?

She is right. You enjoyed spending time with them as well and Harry has little to no word in if you want to meet up with his friends or not. This invitation has no connection to him being your professor.

Y/N: Alright, I’m down!

 This is how your friendship with Sarah and Charlotte starts. You meet up with them on Saturday and have an amazing time, they are definitely fun people to spend time with and though at first you feel hesitant to get closer to them, you soon forget about your doubts and just enjoy your time with them.

Your little girls night goes so well that they invite you out for dinner on Wednesday with Mitch joining the little trio. You learn that he is a quiet but hilarious guy, he and Sarah make a great couple, you think.

“We have a gig this Saturday at Green Light, want to come?” Charlotte asks at the end of the dinner.

“Okay, I really don’t think Harry would be a fan of that idea,” you point out, feeling like it’s surely over the lines. He still doesn’t know about you meeting some of his friends without him and you’re not sure how he would react if he did.

“Harry can fuck off, not everything is about him. We are inviting you as our friends, he just happens to be in the band as well,” Sarah rolls her eyes, clearly not as bothered by the situation as you are.

“I just don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

“He is a big boy, he’ll get himself over it, don’t worry. So, are you coming?”

“I guess, alright,” you nod with a soft chuckle.

 Next week you contemplate telling Harry that Sarah invited you out for their gig, but at last you decide against it, something is telling you he would try to talk you down and now you’re pretty hyped to see them perform. So you keep quiet and just brace yourself for the worst when Saturday comes.

You don’t overdress for the occasion, decide to wear some light washed mom jeans and a simple sweater tucked into it, a casual look for a night out.

Even when you’re on your way to the place you are having second guesses whether it’s a good idea or not, but you tell yourself it’s not that big of a deal and if Harry flips, you’ll just tell him you came for Sarah and Charlotte.

As you get off the bus and walk towards the place, you immediately spot the little group of three next to Harry’s minivan, Sarah waving in your way as you become visible in the streetlights.

“There she is!” she beams happily and you just chuckle at her.

Harry is standing with his back facing your way but seeing Sarah’s reaction he turns around and you swear for a moment you think he is about to faint when he spots you.

“Hey everyone,” you smile as Sarah pulls you into a hug and Charlotte does the same.

“Hey, if it isn’t our little trouble seeker!” Adam teases you and you just roll your eyes at him before shyly glancing at Harry who is standing on your left, awfully quiet and deep in his thoughts since your arrival. He feels your eyes on him and his gaze meets yours and just by one look you can tell he is pissed.

Just as you thought.

The group chats a little longer outside before Adam suggests they head inside and get ready for their start and you are just about to follow them, but Harry keeps you back.

“Y/N, can we have a word?”

Staying back you nod, hiding your hands in your coat’s pockets as you look at him, lips curled into your mouth.

“What are you doing here?” he questions, eyebrows knitted together and he looks so damn intimidating, the neon lights from the front of the building tinting part of his face green, but you think red would suit him better with this look.

“I… came to see the band playing, what do you mean?”

“Is this your sneaky way of trying to come after me? Because I thought we had a very clear discussion about my thoughts regarding situations like this and you seemed to understand it.”

He comes off way angrier than you think he should be. Yes, it might be uncomfortable for him to see you here, but the tone he just hit is way too harsh for your liking and professor or not, you are not letting anyone talk to you like that when it’s completely not relevant.

“Okay, calm down. First of all, I was invited here.”

“By who?” he spats.

“Sarah and Charlotte, we met last weekend and had dinner this week as well. Had a great time and they asked me to come tonight as well, so get off of your high horse, I’m not here for you.” You can see the change on his face as the information sinks in and he realizes he accused you wrongly, but you’re not quite done with him. “But if I was here to see you, why does that bother you so much? You can’t avoid meeting students every minute when you’re off-campus. If I came here because of you, it shouldn’t affect you this much if you weren’t worried about something else than me just being here,” you point out and he furrows his eyebrows at you. “If I didn’t know better I would think you’re afraid to be around me because you actually like me, huh!” you tell him with an innocent yet suggesting look. His eyes widen and the confidence in himself quickly vanishes from him, replaced by anxiety and nervous looks as he realizes the meaning behind your words.

“I-I, that’s not—I’m not—“

“Take a breath before you pass out, Harry,” you sigh, dropping the hard act. “I didn’t come here for you and if you want to know I actually thought a lot about canceling because of you. But I genuinely like spending time with Sarah and Charlotte so I’m here as their friend.”

Harry stares back at you, completely defeated, regret filling his green eyes. You feel a little guilty for snapping so hard at him, after all you do understand his point of view, but you genuinely don’t think it’s as big of a deal as he makes it to be.

“I-I’m…”

“It’s fine, okay? Let’s just… move past it, alright?” you suggest and he nods as the two of you head inside, joining the rest of the group.

You stay behind while they are waiting for their time to perform, keeping some distance from Harry so he can’t accuse you again, but you occasionally look his way, catching him already looking at you, but you just can’t tell what could be possibly going on in his head. When it’s time for them to go on stage, you go out to the actual bar area and sit by the counter, not too much at the front but close enough to see everything that happens on the stage.

When they start playing you can’t take your eyes off Harry. His energy behind the microphone just knocks you off the stool and you watch him completely mesmerized as if he has put a spell on you. It feels like he turns into an entirely different person on stage, nothing like the man you see at lectures every Monday and Wednesday. He sings perfectly on key, putting some extra charm into the songs with his little additional tunes whenever he is not singing a line.

But what makes it absolutely impossible to look away from him is because he keeps staring at you, eyes locking with yours for way too long every time he catches your gaze. You try to ignore it, but it’s quite hard when his eyes are basically burning into you, it leaves you breathless.

Once the concert is over you order yourself two tequila shots quickly, because something is telling you that you’ll need the boosting if you want to face Harry after his little performance.

But for your surprise, when you join the band again and get near him, nothing really happens. It seems like Harry has come to peace with your presence in his little group of friends and he actually treats you like you’re part of the circle.

The six of you occupy a table at the back of the bar to spend there the rest of the evening and it’s all good, it seems. A harmless night out with a bunch of friends, nothing extra. Harry actually strikes up conversations with you involved and you feel like you’ve overcome a banter finally.

“Do you need a ride home?” Harry asks at the end of the night when everyone is about to head home.

“Only if it’s fine by you.”

“Wouldn’t offer it if it wasn’t,” he smiles shortly before the two of you say goodbye to the rest of the group and head to his van that was previously loaded with their stuff.

The ride back to your place is now much shorter, it takes less than ten minutes to arrive and you are just about to say goodbye when he speaks up.

“I want to apologize for the way I reacted to your arrival earlier tonight. It was… unnecessary.”

“It’s fine, I’m sorry for what I said after that too.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he shakes his head, staring down at his hands in his lap.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you shouldn’t be sorry for saying something that’s true.”

It feels like all air is knocked out of you as his words process and you stare at him with parted lips and raised eyebrows. When he finally looks up at you, he looks so lost and tortured, you feel the urge to hug him, but you stay still as he continues talking.

“I got mad because I do like you and seeing you outside of school is very… confusing for me. And this is why I’m gonna be very straightforward with you now. I can tell Sarah and Charlotte like you a lot and they are stubborn, they won’t see the situation from my point of view and I’m no one to tell you if you can hang out with us or not. But what I can most certainly tell you is that nothing will happen between us. I’m very serious about this, Y/N. You are very much welcomed to spend more time with us, but I want you to know that it won’t go further than this.”

For a couple of moments you’re only able to stare back at him, blinking completely frozen at his sudden confession. You could tell tonight has been a turning point of some kind, but you were not expecting this speech from him at all and now you are at a complete loss of words. It takes some time before you actually find your voice.

“Okay,” is all you can breathe out, nothing more, but it’s pretty much all you have to tell him. You won’t go against his will and force him to do something he doesn’t want. He deserves the respect.

He nods shortly, seemingly still very torn about the situation and you figure it’s better if you just leave now.

“Thank you for the ride,” you quietly tell him opening the door. “Good night.”

“Good night, Y/N,” you hear him before you shut the door and walk into your building, feeling like you’ve been just hit by a pile of bricks.

Unlike the last time when Harry brought you home, Nat and Eden are not waiting for you in the living room. Nat is probably already asleep and Eden went out for a date earlier and she hasn’t been back. You don’t bother to turn the lights on as you walk inside, just kick your boots off and hang your coat before collapsing onto the couch, just staring into the darkness, Harry’s words repeating in your head again and again.

“… I do like you and seeing you outside of school is very confusing for me.”

“… nothing will happen between us. I’m very serious about this, Y/N.”

“… but I want you to know that it won’t go further than this.”

Harry, your professor, The Harry Styles admitted that he likes you but also told you pretty forward that nothing is ever going to happen between the two of you. It still feels like a fever dream and you’re not sure how you are feeling about it just yet. Hanging out with him was already quite overwhelming, but you were not expecting this confession from him at all.

What are you supposed to do with this information? If he is so set on not taking any further steps, why did he even share it with you? He could have just easily keep his thoughts and feelings to himself and get away with it without you ever figuring it out. It doesn’t make sense.

For the first time in your life, something Harry Styles said doesn’t make sense. That’s new.

Following Harry’s confession you truly have no idea what to do, so you just go with the flow. He seemingly stays the same when it comes to you, friendly, but still keeping his distance. Nothing changes in the lecture hall, he just occasionally asks if you’re alright and you are guessing he only wants to know if you are having any trouble with Victor, but you haven’t even heard from him since you’ve blocked his number and you hope it’s going to stay like that.

You meet up with him and the band a few times outside of school and it’s not necessarily awkward, but you can tell he is keeping his distance from you, he never sits next to you or has one-on-one conversations with you, only if it’s necessary. The only time he dares to be alone with you is when he sometimes offers you to drive you home. You usually say no at first, but he insists, so you end up sitting in silence in the car until you arrive home, say goodbye and end of story.

No one in school even suspects that you’ve made your way into Harry’s group of friends, only Nat and Eden knows about it but they swore to keep it a secret, but you didn’t tell them about Harry’s confession. Whatever it is that’s happening between you and Harry, you would never put him into a situation he is trying to avoid so badly. You sit in his classes like everyone else, but while all the other girls are drooling over him, trying to get just slightly closer to him in any way possible, you sit in silence and think about the precious times when you get to see him outside of school.

Even with him being so distant towards you, you can’t help but slowly start falling for him. He doesn’t have to talk to you or be direct to you, it’s enough that you see him as himself, you see him with his friends, how he acts whenever he is not teaching, standing on the podium. And he is an amazing person, there’s no doubt about that.

The semester is gradually moving forward, once you get back from fall break, you basically move into the library, studying for your exams and finishing up all your papers. December arrives pretty fast and before you realize, the whole town is decorated with lights and Christmas trees everywhere, the shops are trying to lure customers in with all the sales and the Christmas shopping officially starts.

One weekend, when there’s only two weeks left of school before everyone heads home for the holidays, you and Nat go for a shopping trip, trying to buy every gift in time so you don’t have to worry about that at least last minute.

Wandering around the mall you naturally take a trip to the bookstore, always ready to buy something new to read. Nat dives into the cooking books wanting to get one for her mother while you’re just aimlessly looking through the shelves. As your eyes are running through the titles in the psychology department, you stop at one particular book, pulling it off the shelf as you can’t help but smile to yourself.

The secrets of Classical Conditioning.

You flip through the pages and though it doesn’t seem to be a groundbreaking work, it’s just explaining Pavlov’s experiment and further uses of it, you still decide to buy it.

That evening you sit at your desk, the book open in front of you, a pen next to it as you try to think of something to write into it. At first you just wanted to give it to Harry as it is, but you figured it would be a nice gesture to write a few words into it he could always read when he opens the book. After some consideration, you finally grab the pen and start writing.

-

Dear Harry,

I will always think of you whenever I hear of Mr. Ivan Petrovics Pavlov or Classical Conditioning. Thank you for another amazing semester and I’m happy I got to see you without standing on a podium. You are an amazing man, never change.

Happy holidays,

Y/N

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Last week of school, you go to the Wednesday lecture, the last one of the semester with the book sitting in your bag. All through the 90 minutes class as Harry is having an open discussion about the lecture with the students, you keep debating whether you should give him the book or not. When the lecture is over and Harry wishes everyone happy holidays, you grab it from your bag and holding it to your chest you wait until there’s only a few people in the room. Eden has already left to hand in a paper so you walk down the rows on your own, eyes on the man behind his desk who is now packing up his papers and notes, getting ready to leave.

“Harry?” you faintly speak his name, grabbing his attention as he looks up at you from behind the desk. You glance down at the book in your hands and before you could change your mind, you place it down in front of him. “This is… for you.”

His gaze wanders down to the book, then back at you as he stares at you in awe, obviously surprised by the gesture.

“What’s this for?”

“Christmas gift?” you answer unsurely with a nervous chuckle. “I just saw it at the store and… thought of you.”

“Y/N, I can’t—“

“Yes you can and you will,” you roll your eyes at him, tired of hearing all these negations from him. He can’t, he won’t, he shouldn’t�� for once, he definitely will if it’s on you. “Take it as my payment for the book you gave me.”

His eyes soften at you before he looks down at the book again, reading the title before he chuckles to himself.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he then finally says, accepting that you won’t let him return the gift under any circumstances.

“Have a nice Christmas, Harry,” you smile at him shyly, hands holding onto the strap of your bag as you start walking away.

“You too,” he faintly says and turning around you start walking, but then he stops you. “Y/N, wait!”

You stop in your track and face him curiously. He seems hesitant, stepping away from the desk, walking closer to you but still keeping some distance between the two of you.

“Do you… have plans for New Year’s Eve?”

“I, uhh—No, not yet.”

“If you happen to be back in town by then… Sarah is having this little get together. I have a feeling she already invited you, but if you said no because of me, I want you to know that it’s fine by me. Would be nice if you could come.”

He is right, Sarah did invite you over, but you kindly declined thinking Harry wouldn’t appreciate if you spent it with them. You wanted to give him a breather, have a night with his friends without having to avoid you all the time, but it seems like the situation has changed for him.

“You don’t have to invite me just because I gave you a gift, Harry.”

“It’s not about that,” he shakes his head softly. “I can tell you are getting along well with Sarah and all the others. I want you to know that I would never stand in the way and you are very much welcomed at any and all events.”

He seems and sounds genuine, you don’t see any sign of him just saying it because Sarah asked him to or something. No, this definitely came from him.

“Okay, I’ll… think about it,” you tell him with a warm smile. “See you around,” you wave at him before walking out of the room.

You don’t get to see his reaction to the words you wrote into the book and for a while, you’re not even sure he saw it. Maybe he took it home and put it on his shelf without even having a look into it, but two days later, when you’re already packing, getting ready to go home for Christmas, you get a notification that at first confuses you.

Breakfast is now following you!

You open Instagram with furrowed eyebrows as you go to the profile that just followed you. It’s a small account and private, of course and you almost close it thinking it’s just someone random when you see that it’s followed by both Sarah and Charlotte.

Could this be Harry’s profile?

The username is colazione8, it doesn’t give away much but now that you are thinking about it, it’s perfect if he wanted to stay unnoticed by his students that surely can use Instagram way better than him.

You tap on the follow request button and anxiously wait for an approval, hoping that the person behind the account is still online. You wait and wait, slowly losing hope but then the notification finally arrives. Your request has been approved.

You tap on the profile vigorously and three pictures appear in front of you. One is a picture of some random building, the first ever posted is a plate of nicely served breakfast of some sort and then there’s one that features the person you were desperately hoping to see.

It’s a picture of Harry sitting at a big dining table, a glass of wine in front of him as he is squinting his eyes towards the camera. You zoom into the picture just to make sure it’s him, but his features are clearer than daylight, it really is Harry that just followed you.

You’re still stalking his very private and not too eventful profile when you get a message from him, making your heart skip a beat.

Harry: Hey! Just wanted to thank you again for the gift, it’s really thoughtful. Read what you wrote in it… thank you, Y/N.

Y/N: I meant every word. Thank you for everything you did this semester!

It takes a few minutes for a response to arrive from him.

Harry: Are you already on your way home?

Y/N: Not yet, leaving tomorrow morning.

Harry: If I drop by your place in 20, can you come down for a sec?

Y/N: Sure!

Though your response seemed totally cool, you started panicking right away. What does this mean? Why is he coming here? Are you in trouble? You couldn’t be, you didn’t do anything wrong.

You quickly change out of your worn-out sweats and stained shirt, putting on a pair of jeans and a black hoodie, not wanting to see him looking like a total wreck. You sit on your bed, anxiously checking your phone every ten seconds to see if he has messaged you and those twenty minutes never seem to pass.

Then your phone finally chimes again.

Harry: I’m here.

Y/N: Be there in a sec.

You jump into a pair of trainers and grabbing your keys from the little sidetable you have in the hallway you storm out of the apartment, running down the stairs. As you walk out you stop in your track for a second, for some reason you were expecting the minivan, but this time, it’s a black Range Rover that’s parked in front of your building and Harry emerges from it the moment you step outside.

“Hey!” he smiles at you, shutting the door before he jogs around and you notice the little gift bag in his hands.

“Harry, is this what I think it is? Because you shouldn’t have, really,” you tell him right away as he stands in front of you, glancing down at the little bag in his hands.

“What? So you are allowed to give me a gift, but I’m not allowed to do the same?” he asks with a cheeky smile.

“But you already gave me one!”

“That wasn’t a real gift, so no,” he shakes his head, too stubborn to let it go. So instead, he nervously glances down at the little bag before handing it to you. “Here. Happy Christmas. But you can only open it when I’m gone, alright?”

“Why?”

“Just… please,” he breathes out and you not, keeping your curious hands to yourself.

“Alright. Well, thank you, Harry.”

“Sure. Um, have a great winter break and… I’ll see you around,” he smiles, walking around the car back to the side of the driving seat.

“You too, Harry. See you!”

You see him drive away as you walk back into the building, basically running up the stairs to your apartment, dying to see what’s in the little bag. Once you are locked in the safe haven of your room, you throw yourself to the bed and reach into the bag, finding a small box. One that’s usually used for jewelry. You pull it out with shaky fingers and take a deep breath before opening it.

Inside sits the cutest little silver ring you’ve literally ever seen. It’s thin and very detailed, tiny little strawberries lining next to each other and that’s the whole ring. Just the little strawberries, but it’s still the cutest you’ve ever seen. You put it on and it fits perfectly on your ring finger, holding up your hand you take a good look at how it sits on your finger. You’re in love with it.

Rolling to your back on the bed you stare up at the ceiling with a heavy heart aching for a man you know will never be yours, but you just can’t help it. The heart wants what it wants, right?

Reaching for your phone you type him a quick message

Y/N: Harry, thank you so much! It’s beautiful! But you shouldn’t have bought me anything!

Harry: I’m glad you like it :)

Y/N: I love it.

He doesn’t respond, just likes your message.

Christmas is always the same, especially because your family just never had those juicy dramas that could ruin any family events. Holidays have always been quiet and loving, pretty predictable. It’s good to be home again and spend quality time with your loved one, though your mind keeps wandering to a particular someone.

Sarah mentioned that Harry has traveled home to his mom and sister and from time to time you catch yourself thinking about what he could be possibly doing at the moment.

The only interaction between the two of you is when you post a photo with your sister and brother at Christmas dinner and he likes the photo, but nothing more. He doesn’t post or add to his story so you are left with your own elaborate fantasies of what he could possiblybe doing at home.

Sarah convinces you to spend the New Year’s Eve at hers and you are accepting the invitation a lot easier now that Harry has told you he is fine with you joining.

Just one day before the 31st you get back to your apartment and spend the second to last night of the year spiraling about the whole situation with Harry. Where are you two standing as of right now? Was his gift a gesture with a deeper meaning behind it?

You can’t step over the fact that you are not his student anymore. He has officially graded you and you’ve received your credits for his class, the ties are off, but he situation might still be risky and you doubt Harry is willing to change his mind about what he told you earlier. He made it clear that nothing will ever happen between the two of you, however you can’t help but feel a little hopeful that the new semester might bring a change into that.

After two hours spent in front of your closet and at least three mental breakdowns you finally decide to wear a black turtleneck dress which is just the perfect mixture of modest and sexy at the same time. You feel anxious to see Harry again, not sure how to act around him following your little gift exchange. There’s a chance he’ll just shut himself off once again and avoid you all night, you can’t tell.

Sarah’s place is already buzzing by the time you arrive, several guests are lounging in the living room and kitchen, some soft music is playing and it appears that everyone is enjoying the evening so far, judging from the laughter you hear from time to time.

“I’m so glad you came!” Sarah envelopes in a tight hug when you arrive.

“Thank you for inviting me. Here, brought some snacks,” you hand her the grocery bag you picked up on your way, not wanting to arrive empty-handed.

“Oh, you are an angel, some on in, make yourself home, take whatever you want to eat or drink!” she gestures around before bringing the bag into the kitchen.

The cozy home is already filled with a lot of people you don’t know, but you also spot Charlotte and Mitch right away so you take the safe spot in their little circle. You try your best to stay present in the conversation but you keep glancing around, looking for one particular person.

And then you finally see him. Harry emerges from the little hallway that leads to the bedroom and bathroom with Adam, seemingly deep in conversation as he nurses a beer in his hand. His checkered slacks and vintage printed t-shirt makes him appear so casual, if you didn’t know him you wouldn’t even guess that he is actually a professor.

Harry laughs at something Adam just told him and his eyes glide around the room until they find you standing near the kitchen. He stops in his track, gaze running down your figure before it returns to your eyes and he seems to be in awe, like he doesn’t entirely believe it’s you he is seeing even though he knew you’d be coming. There’s nothing you want more than to run across the room and throw yourself into his arms. You spent way too much time thinking about him during Christmas and seeing him in the flesh now is a mixture of feelings you can’t really describe just now.

Neither of you leaves the conversation you are in the middle, but you keep glancing towards each other. You’re nervously moving the strawberry ring around your finger, feeling his burning gaze on your figure all the time. You haven’t taken it down since he has given it to you, it partially made it harder for you to stop thinking about him, because the jewelry was quite a loud reminder every time you glanced down at your hands.

Two drinks later your sister calls you, as always she wants to say happy new year before the lines get hectic at midnight, so you move out to the small balcony facing the street as you talk to your sister. The spicy night air feels amazing on your heated up skin, the turtleneck dress was a good choice, but it’s definitely getting hotter with each drink, especially with Harry’s lingering eyes as well. When you end the call you decide to stay outside a little longer, take a few moments to yourself.

You jump a little when you hear the sliding door open and you’re surprised to see Harry walk out.

“Hey, thought you might need this,” he smiles softly, holding a blanket in his hands.

“Oh, thank you,” you mumble and let him wrap it around your shoulders. It provides just enough heat that your lips are not shaking anymore from the cold.

“What are you doing out here alone? Not enjoying the evening?”

“I am, I was just on the phone with my sister.”

“She’s older than you, right?” he asks and you tilt your head a little looking at him.

“How do you know that?”

“I, uhh… You have a lot of pictures with her on your Instagram,” he admits with a nervous chuckle.

“Have you been stalking my profile?” you tease him, but he clearly takes it way more serious than you intended it to be.

“No, I swear it’s not like that, I just—“ he stammers but you cut him off placing a hand on his arms that are crossed over his chest.

“Harry, I was just teasing you. It’s fine,” you assure him, giving him a gentle squeeze before you are about to pull your hand back, but his hold stops you. He takes your hand in his, gently bringing it closer to his face as he examines the ring sitting on your finger.

“You’re wearing it,” he breathes out, a small cloud emitting from his pink lips as his thumb softly runs over the ring.

“Of course. I told you I love it.”

You can’t ignore the shiver that runs down your spine at the feeling of his warm palm against yours, his thumb delicately running over not just the ring, but down your finger as well before he lets go of your hand. You already miss his touch.

“So, how was Christmas?” he asks clearing his throat.

“Good, nothing extra. What about yours?”

“Same, went home to the family.”

“Do you often visit them?”

“Not as often as I would want to, but I’m trying to go every couple of months.” Harry turns towards the street, eyes running along the not too busy road that stretches past Sarah’s building. His hand comes up to the railing, fingers slightly drumming on it. “How come you didn’t bring anyone tonight?”

“Well, my roommates are still home and I also didn’t think you’d like the idea to have another student of yours around.”

“Right, yeah,” he nods, but you can tell something else is still on his mind. “So… no boyfriend to bring?”

You give him a puzzled look. Is this his way of asking if you are seeing anyone at the moment? Because if it is, it’s kind of ridiculous.

“No, not really. I guess you can say I’m not looking for one actively.”

“How come?” he asks with raised eyebrows, his body turning towards you as he leans against the railing. You give him a ‘really?’ look. You think about getting a little sassy and teasing with him, but then decide to just be straightforward instead.

“Because I’m kind of into my Methodology of Cultural Anthropology professor.”

Harry’s lips part as his eyes pierce into yours and for a moment you really think that he is about to flip, tell me how dare you say such thing to him and curse you out, but a second passes and his gaze softens as he lets out a shaky breath.

“Y/N…”

“What? I just answered your question,” you innocently shrug, looking away from him. Despite this long and weird game the two of have been playing these past months, this is the first time you openly admitted that you have a thing for him.

“You know how complicated it is and I told you that nothing can happen.” He shakes his head in defeat, a hint of disappointment in his tone, but it just grinds your gears.

“What, so you can ask about my dating life but I can’t say that I’m into you? How is that fair?”

“That’s not the same.”

“Well I think it is. Both are highly inappropriate to bring up in our situation, don’t you think? Yet you’re trying to put all the blame on me.”

“Alright, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. Let’s just… forget about it. I really don’t want to fight with you.”

“Because you’re afraid I might actually win?” you sassily reply, crossing your arms on your chest.

“I’m just trying to do the right thing, okay? Would you… let me?”

“If you haven’t realized it yet, I’m trying really hard to stay in my lane, but you’re not making it any easier.”

“I’m trying too, okay?” he growls, clearly losing his calmness at this point. “I’m really fucking trying, Y/N, but it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do!”

“You’re the one making it hard!”

“It’s not my fucking fault I can’t stop thinking about you!”

“Well it’s not my fault either!” you snap at him, both of you raising your voice, the rest of the party oblivious about the screaming match the two of you are having on the balcony. “If you’re so set on not letting anything happen, why do you come to me and act the opposite?”

“The opposite?!”

“Yes! It’s not quite appropriate to gift your student with a ring or ask them about their dating life. Or is it all new information to you?”

“You started with the gifting!”

“So what? You could have just left it there, but you didn’t. It’s not that it didn’t make me happy, but don’t try to put all the blame on me for saying something when you’re already crossing the lines.”

Harry stares at you with a hard look and you’d pay great amounts to actually read his thoughts at this moment. His jaw clenches as he exhales sharply, eyes turning away from you, as if he couldn’t even bear to look at you.

“Make up your fucking mind,” you growl under your breath as you push your way past him and walk inside before he could get a word out.

For a well-respected, educated and smart man, Harry can act pretty fucking stupid, you think. He is not being fair and you will not apologize for anything you’ve said. If he doesn’t want anything to do with you, he needs to stay in his lane and not dance on the line, poking the sleeping lion. He doesn’t get to fuck around and then put all the blame on you, that’s just not how it works and he needs to learn that.

In the last hour that’s left until midnight you mingle with the guests and try to keep your thoughts of Harry at bay, though it’s quite the challenge since he lingers around you, keeping his eyes on you all the time, as if he is trying to piss you off or something, but you’re determined to be a mature adult and keep your composure.

You’re getting tired of this game and you’re not sure anymore if you are willing to wait around until Harry makes his mind up. Not when he doesn’t keep his own rules at least.

“Come on,” you mumble to yourself as you’re trying to open up a new bottle of wine, but the screw just wouldn’t move, no matter what you do. A hand reaches forward and wraps around the neck of the bottle, interrupting your pathetic misery.

“Let me help you.”

You let Harry take the bottle, biting into your bottom lip as you turn around and watch him easily open the bottle you’ve been fighting with the past ten minutes, he grabs your empty glass from the counter and fills it.

“Thank you,” you mumble when he hands it back and you take a sip right away. He places the bottle to the counter, fingers strumming on the surface before he takes a deep breath and speaks up.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.”

“For what exactly?”

“For the way I acted. You were totally right, I called you out for things that I did myself too, that was unfair of me.” He clears his throat, leaning against the counter with his back side as he crosses his arms on his chest. It brings out how toned his arms really are and you give yourself half a second to drool over that before you take another sip from your drink, forcing yourself to keep your thoughts under control.

“Thanks for acknowledging it,” you mumble, not sure what to say exactly. The two of you stand like that in silence, eyes roaming the guests, something clearly weighing down on both of you, but it’s hard to name and address it.

You can tell he is overthinking, the gears are almost visible, turning in that smart head of his, but you don’t want him to go into depths he shouldn’t. He really is making a bigger deal out of the situation that it already is, but it’s going to wreck him.

“Okay, I want to know, what was the worst way someone tried to flirt with you?”

Harry turns to you with a puzzled look, but you just sip on your wine, waiting for his answer.

“Um, I don’t… really keep track of it.”

“Oh come on,” you give him a look. “I know you have a story. I wanna hear it!”

Your eyes meet and he is searching in yours, trying to figure out what’s the sudden change in your mood when an hour ago you were ready to throw him off the balcony. Truth is you are just frustrated, because the situation feels so impossible. You never had to deal with such an amazing man, knowing he is into you as well, but you just can’t have him. The struggle is hard for the both of you but you can’t blame him entirely. Hating on him because he is not willing to take a risk that could easily ruin his entire life but at least his academic career is just not fair and you won’t put him through that.

Harry sees where you’re coming from and he shoots you a thankful smile before it turns into a smirk as he looks down at his hands.

“Professor Davids from the department of linguistics asked me to be her date for her ex-husband’s wedding.”

“What?” you gasp with wide eyes. “For real?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “She started swinging by my office all the time, trying to chat me up and then one day she asked if I wanted to go with her, that we would be staying at this nice hotel and all… she really thought it was a good idea.”

“That’s very awkward,” you laugh, entertained by the thought that Professor Davids would go so low when it came to dating. “I assume, you declined the invitation.”

“Faster than ever,” he chuckles making you laugh even louder. “Okay, your turn.”

“What?”

“I told you an awkward story, now it’s your turn.”

“Um, the worst was probably a promposal I got.”

“A promposal?” he asks with a puzzled look, his forehead creasing as he pulls his eyebrows together.

“Yeah, when they ask you out to go to prom.” “Oh, yeah. Didn’t know it had a specific name.”

“Because you are way too British,” you tease him and he just gives you a narrow-eyed look, but you can see the smirk hiding on his lips. “Well, anyway, I was dating a guy senior year, but this other one was convinced he could win me over and take me to prom. He brought a fucking mariachi band to school and gave me a serenade in the middle of the hallway while my boyfriend was standing next to me. He asked me to prom so confidently at the end of the song, like he actually had a shot but it was so painfully awkward,” you laugh at the memory shaking your head and Harry joins, finding it quite entertaining.

“He really did that to himself.”

“He did, I felt bad a little, but what was I supposed to do?”

You slip into telling more and more awkward stories, staying in the kitchen you create a little bubble, the rest of the guests don’t seem to exist as you enjoy yourself with Harry. This is the most carefree and loosest you’ve ever seen him around you and you quite like this version of him. So easy to talk to and even funnier than his usual self.

A little before midnight Sarah runs around with champagne, filling everyone’s glass, getting ready for the countdown. You and Harry join Charlotte, Adam and his wife in the corner of the living room as everyone is slowly getting excited for the last moments of the year.

Looking around you see a lot of couples, holding hands, hugging, clearly planning to snog the moment the clock hits midnight and when you glance at Harry on your right you’re convinced he is thinking about the same thing.

You’re not naïve, you don’t think he is going to kiss you, but you still allow yourself to play with the thought just a little. He is standing so close to you, just the tiniest move and you’d be touching him, skin to skin again, feel him under your—

The thought is abruptly interrupted when you feel his warm palm wrap around your hand, your whole body freezing and for a split second you think it’s just an accident, that his touch will disappear before you could even blink, but it stays there. Harry maneuvers his fingers until they are laced together with yours and he keeps a firm hold of your hand, hanging between the two of you, staying hidden because you’re standing close to each other. Your breath catches in your throat and you’re afraid if you dare to move he’ll let go of your hand.

Another version of yourself would laugh hysterically at how worked up you are right now just because he is holding your hand, but the you that’s actually in the moment is about to burst just by this small touch. You have absolutely no idea what it means or why he chose to do it, but you don’t really care about it. You just want to absorb all the heat you feel coming from him where his palm meets yours, fingers braided together tightly, as if he is trying to keep you next to him, like he thinks you are about to disappear and it’s way of anchoring you to him, but truth is you don’t want to go anywhere.

“One minute, everyone!” Sarah sings in excitement as she turns on the TV and puts a huge clock on the screen that’s counting the seconds as well. You shyly glance to the side, finding Harry standing motionless next to you and when he notices you looking, his eyes meet yours. He looks terrified, like a lost little boy and you can’t tell if he is afraid of your reaction or because of what his actions might bring on him. But you want him to know that you are completely okay with where it’s heading.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!” The countdown begins and you inch closer to Harry so you’re pressed against his side, his body heat radiating into your skin even through the layers of clothes you two are wearing.

Harry leans down the moment you lift your head, his face is so close, it wouldn’t take much for you to finally kiss him, do the one thing you haven’t stopped thinking about for months.

“Y/N…” he breathes out and it’s a tortured plea, he is begging you to stop him from doing something he might regret, but you are dying for him to finally sin. You want him to give it up already, you have absolutely no desire to be the burden that keeps him in his lane. You need him to cross the line and stay there.

“I’m not stopping you, Harry,” you tell him quietly, the urge to close the distance between the two of you is burning inside you.

“Seven! Six! Five!” the countdown continues, but it all tones out, you can only see, hear and feel Harry.

“We can’t,” he whines, closing his eyes as he exhales shakily.

“We can, we just shouldn’t,” you correct him, his eyes snap open and meet yours again. You can tell he is so close to finally giving in and let his feelings and desires take control and you will not try to stop him.

His face inches the tiniest bit closer and his forehead is almost touching yours now, you can see every curly eyelash that frames his gorgeous green eyes that are now filled with fear and nerves.

“Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!” Everyone screams together as the clock finally hits midnight while you just stare at Harry holding your breath, praying that he is finally ballsy enough to take this step.

“Harry, please,” you beg, not too proud of it, but you just can’t take it any longer. His hand is gripping yours tightly as he closes his eyes again and for a second you think that it’s gonna happen. He is going to give up the act and finally kiss you.

But right when the moment is burning the most… he pulls back and your heart sinks.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his hand lets go of yours and it feels like your arm is ripped off, tears are welling in your eyes.

“Yeah, me too,” you mumble under your breath, chugging down the champagne before making your way through the living room, determined to leave as soon as possible.

“Y/N, wait, where are you going?” you hear him calling after you, but you don’t stop. You get rid of the empty champagne glass and grab your coat from the rack, storming out of the apartment as if you had somewhere to be.

Tears are streaming down your cheeks as you run down the stairs, almost tripping over your own feet. You hear the other pair of feet running behind you and Harry calling after you, but it’s not stopping you.

You push the front door of the building open, but it’s heavy, so it slows you down just enough that Harry can grab your wrist when you are about to start running down the street.

“Y/N, don’t go, let me explain!”

“No!” you snap at him. “I don’t fucking want to hear your explanation! I’m done, Harry! I’m fucking done! I was trying to be patient and respectful, I didn’t want to make it worse for you and let you do your thing, but you kept dancing back and forth and I can’t keep doing this, so I guess I’m sorry too.”

You’re choking on your own words that echo from the walls, the street is almost entirely empty, the world is still celebrating the new year while you’re at your breaking point. Harry stands in front of you, defeated and panic all over his face as he listens to you.

“I will not sit around and let you play your little games any longer, because you can’t make up your mind whether you want me or not.”

“Y/N I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life!” he snaps, throwing his hands into the air. “That’s the problem! This shouldn’t be happening, but I can’t fucking stop thinking about you, I can’t stop wanting you!”

“Then do something about it!” you beg through your tears.

“I can’t!”

“Yes you can!” you scream at him. “You can but you probably just don’t want me enough to actually do it! And it’s fine, but—“

You don’t get to finish your rant because Harry firmly grabs your arm, yanks you towards him and with one swift movement, his lips are crashing against yours.

It all happens so fast but your body reacts before your mind could process what’s really happening, fists bunching a handful of his sweater as you pull him against you, his hands flying up to your face, cupping them confidently as he kisses you hard and demandingly.

It’s like a fucking dam that’s been broken, everything you both kept bottled up and under control just breaks loose and it’s a kind of a wild fight for trying to devour each other now that all lines has been crossed an blurred into nothingness.

He is the dominant one, but you do some pushing and pulling on your own as well. You’re forced to take a few steps backwards, back arching at how forcefully he is pushing forward, lips smacking against each other over and over again, his tongue meeting yours, swirling and dancing around with yours, a shameless moan escaping your mouth.

His hands roam down your sides and you jumps when they reach the back of your thighs, legs wrapping around his waist. He keeps you up easily, fingers digging into your flesh where your butt meets your thighs and this angle allows you to be completely pressed up against him and feel every single inch of his body that burns for you.

It’s beyond anything you’ve ever imagined, you’re not sure it’s because of the build-up that led to this point or simply the chemistry you two got, but it blows your mind, making you question how you could go this long without ever kissing him.

“Harry, I want you,” you moan when his lips move down to your jawline, kissing and biting on the soft skin, tasting you wherever he can reach.

“I want you too, Y/N,” he breathes out resting his forehead against yours before kissing you again.

“Take me home then.”

“Are you sure?” he pants as you run your fingers through his hair and tug on his gently, earning a whimper from his perfectly pink and swollen lips. You love this satisfied dew on his face, especially because you know it’s because of you.

“Never been more sure about anything in my life.”

You unwrap your legs from around his waist and return to the ground, but not without him leaning down to kiss you once more before he grabs your hand and starts pulling you down the street. You spot his Rover right away and start sprinting, Harry following you right behind with a carefree laugh.

Settled in your seats he starts driving, but you can’t keep yourself away from him. His hand that’s not on the steering wheel is gripping your thigh as you lean over the console and start kissing his cheek, jawline and the corner of his mouth as one of your hands runs down his chest until it reaches his pants.

“Love, if you move further down we’re gonna crash,” he warns you with a shaky breath. “I drank a little too and I’m already fucking gone from kissing you, if you touch me I’m gonna lose it.”

You giggle, pressing one last kiss to his lips before sitting back in your seat. You need every bit of your patience and self-control to stay modest on the way back to his place. Hands gripping his you bring it up to your lips, kissing his knuckles gently as he speeds down the empty streets. It’s still barely over midnight, everyone is still celebrating, oblivious to how important this moment is to the two of you.

You really thought this would be the end. When he pulled away at midnight all hope was lost for you and it broke your heart to know that he will never choose you over his better judgment.

It’s your first time at Harry’s but you don’t really care to look around as the two of you make your way inside the townhouse, lips already melted together as you stumble through the dark hallway, not wanting to let go of each other. You successfully make it into his bedroom and Harry turns on the bedside lamp while you’re already eagerly getting rid of your coat and shoes. He does the same, clothes start to litter the hardwood flooring hastily, but neither of you is thinking about them. Harry scoops you into his arms once again, kissing your lips passionately as he bunches your dress up at your hips until he can finally grip the end of it and pull it over your head.

“Oh shit!” you giggle, the turtleneck getting stuck on your head for a moment before you’re free from it.

“That big head of yours,” he chuckles kissing your forehead.

“Shut up,” you smack his chest gently, pushing him down to the bed so you can straddle him, knees on his sides as you sit on his lap, lips meeting again.

He throws his hands up when you start pulling his t-shirt up and once the fabric is off of his body, his arms wrap around you, pulling you close to his chest. Your skin meets his and it feels heavenly, only little clothing separating the two of you at this point.

Harry scoots backwards and then throws you to the mattress, getting on top of you without your lips ever parting. His hips are pushed against yours and you can feel everything through the thin material of his slacks. Without even knowing you grind your hips, your core meeting his erection in the movement and he moans uncontrollably at the sensation.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes against your lips and you can’t push your smirk down at his reaction.

“Yeah, fuck me, Harry,” you tease him before your lips get occupied once again.

His hands work fast. He unclasps your bra without you even noticing, the straps falling from your shoulders before he gets rid of it, throwing it across the room as if it did something against him. When his hungry eyes fall down on your naked chest you see the same kind of torture in his eyes that was there when he was fighting with himself before.

“Harry, stop thinking,” you tell him, fingers massaging his scalp as you lace them through his hair. “It’s fine, we’re fine.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he questions again and you pull him down for a reassuring kiss.

“One hundred percent. I want this. I want you.”

“Oh God, I want you so bad,” he whines again, lips kissing down your jawline, neck and collarbone before they attack your breasts.

He cups them, licks and bites them, making you a whimpering mess underneath him every time his tongue meets your hot skin. This man will be the death of you. As he moves down your body, his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties and he glances up at your for reassurance once again, you nod eagerly, lifting your hips so he can easily glide the fabric down and off of your body. Harry sits up, eyes burning down on your naked body lying in front of him as he undoes his own pants, pushing them down his long legs until they join the rest on the floor. You push yourself up when his hands move to his boxers, you want to be the one to take them off. He gladly backs his hands off when you reach out and start tugging them down. He kneels on the bed as you pull the fabric down and his erection finally becomes free, making you ache for him immediately. Once the boxers are out of the way completely you want to reach out to touch him, but he stops you, hands wrapping around your wrist before they could reach him.

Your eyes snap up to meet his darkened gaze, questioning why he stopped you.

“Y/N, I… If we do this, there’s no going back,” he breathes out with a pained look. You push yourself up to your knees so you meet his height, hands cupping his cheeks as you pull him into a sweet kiss that he hesitantly but returns.

“I know what you think about us, Harry, but I assure you, that I’m completely fine with it. But if you don’t want it to happen, we can just… lie here. I’m fine with that too. Kissing you was already such a gift for me,” you smile at him, gently pecking his lips.

“I just don’t want you to wake up and regret it. I’m not pushing you, right?”

“If anyone, it’s me pushing you,” you chuckle softly, a small smile tugging on his lips as well. “You didn’t push anything on me, alright? We are both adults and it’s completely fine. We’ll figure out the rest, I just want to focus on you now. Can I do that?”

Harry nods, still looking a little unsure, but you can tell he is starting to settle in his mindset. It’s not just him that worries about the other regretting something. You know how torn up he is about anything that’s about you and though you want him more than anything, you still don’t want to push him into doing something he is not entirely comfortable with.

“Do you want this?” you softly ask, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I do. I’m just—“

“Then it’s all good, Harry. We both want it, nothing else matters for now,” you tell him, wanting nothing else than to finally see him enjoy himself entirely. “Lay down for me,” you tell him, feeling like you taking the lead is a good idea now.

He does as you asked him to, lying down on the mattress, head sinking into his pillow as he blinks up at you, watching you swing a leg over him before settling to sit on his thighs.

“Can I touch you?” you ask, wanting to make sure he feels completely comfortable with you. Pleasing him is your number one priority right now. He nods, lips parting as he watches your hand reach out and wrap around the base of his erected length. He whimpers under your touch, his eyes fall closed when you gently pump him a few times, his cock fits so well in your palms, like pieces of a puzzle.

Leaning down you kiss his fern tattoos on each sides of his hips before placing one to his leaking tip, sliding your hands to the base before you slowly and gradually take him into your mouth.

You’re not planning to make him cum with your mouth, but you’ve been dying to taste him and it’s just as good as you imagined. The way his body reacts to your touch, the noises that leave his kissable lips, this man is completely out of this world and you want to explore every inch of his body.

You bob your head a couple of times, just enough to wet his length and work him up for what’s coming next. When you let him go of your mouth and you move a little up on his body so that his cock can be lined up with your hole, you look at him to see if he is still down to continue. One hand holding his cock, the other one flat on his naked chest, you ask him a question with your eyes that he answers with his hands squeezing your hips.

“I have the implant. Do you want to put on a condom?” you ask him at last.

“I trust you,” he breathes out. “Do you want me to put one on?”

“I want to feel you,” you tell him shaking your head.

“Okay,” he nods so it’s settled.

Leaning down you peck his lips one last time before you push the head inside and then slowly ease yourself down on his throbbing length.

“Oh fuck!”

“Harry, oh my God!” you both moan at the sensation of him finally entering you. You’ve had your fair share of sexual intercourses throughout your life, but none of them felt this good. None of them pleasured you this good so fast and easily, just the feel of him being inside you is making you lose your mind.  

You start off slow, wanting to feel him just right, get used to his size, but as soon as you feel more comfortable, you pick up a faster pace. His fingers are digging into your flesh at your hips as he holds onto you for dear life, panting and moaning at your motions. He glides in and out of you perfectly, setting your senses on fire practically.

“Harry, you feel so good,” you gasp, getting lost in the feeling. Sex has always been a good experience for you, but with Harry it’s a whole different story. As if he just opened a completely new world you never even knew about before.

“Yeah? You’re gonna cum for me?”

“Yes! Oh fuck!”

Harry pushes himself up, an arm coming around your back as he easily flips the two of you over, your back gently hitting the soft mattress. He holds himself up above you, lips crashing with yours as he starts to do the work this time, thrusting in and out of you, his hips smacking against yours forcefully as you both nearing the end.

“You’re making me lose my fucking mind, Y/N,” he cries out, head falling to the crook of your neck and you wrap your arms around him as a shield, holding him tight against you.

It doesn’t take long after that. He is hitting just the right spots, making you moan his name over and over again as your orgasm slowly devours you and washes over your whole body while he is still relentlessly moving.

“Harry! Oh… Fuck!” you gasp, legs and hands shaking and you clench your muscles around him, throwing him over the edge with you. He falls out of his rhythm, his cock twitching inside you as he moans against the hot skin of your neck, coming undone in your arms.

Nothing has ever felt this intense and mind-blowing and you’re now sure you’re addicted to him, there’s no turning back, not that you want that.

He collapses on top of you, still inside you, his body weighing down on you heavily, but it feels just fine. You run your arms up and down his sides, kissing the side of his head as you are both trying to catch your breath. It takes a few minutes for him to come back to reality with you, he lifts his head and moves to the side so he is not crushing you anymore, but an arm remains thrown over your abdomen. His vibrant green eyes are shining like never before when they meet your tired gaze and cupping his face in your palm you pull him in for a slow kiss where you finally have the time to actually taste him without the rushing of your own needs and urges.

“How are you feeling?” you softly asking, knowing well how major this was for him. You wouldn’t want him to spiral and start to self-destruct because of what just happened.

“I’m feeling fine,” he murmurs lowly, his fingers dancing on your naked side. “Just still a little torn if I did the right thing.”

“You worry too much. We did nothing wrong.”

“Not sure everyone would agree with that.”

“Fuck everyone else,” you chuckle and a smile tugs on his lips as well. “I will not feel bad for having the best sex of my life with a hot as fuck man I’m really into,” you bluntly tell him, earning a smug grin.

“Best sex of your life, huh?”

“Not even ashamed to admit,” you nod into the pillow. “How… was it for you?” you shyly ask, afraid his answer might disappoint you. But Harry pulls you closer until you’re pressed up against his chest, his lips capture yours, kissing you fiercely, making your heart skip a few beats for sure.

“Fucking amazing, baby. Probably the best I ever had too,” he admits, lips brushing against yours as he speaks. A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as you nuzzle against his chest once he has rolled to his back.

Silence comes over the two of you, you’re listening to his steady heartbeat, mindlessly drawing patterns over his chest. Lifting your head your eyes meet his and you can tell he has been thinking hard about what this all means for the future now.

“I’m in,” you simply tell him.

“Huh?”

“If you are thinking that I might not want to do this with you, that I just wanted a good fuck, that’s not what I think of this. If you want to give us a chance, I’m totally in.”

“You think we can make it work?” he quietly asks, his voice barely more than just a whisper.

“Of course,” you smile at him warmly. “You don’t?”

“I do, I’m just… there are so many things that can go wrong.”

“Then… we’ll make them right.”

Harry breathes out through his nose, clearly having a hard time to take it as easy as you do and you wish you could magically make all his doubts go away.

Sitting up you put your hands on each of his sides, looking down at him determined to bring out his confidence in the two of you.

“We just have to be patient and careful until I finish. Then we are basically free. That’s just one more semester. It could be way worse, we can make it work for a couple of months before we can finally do whatever we want. That doesn’t sound that bad, does it?” Harry shakes his head, reaching up he tugs your hair behind your ear before running his fingers down the side of your face.

“So we are really doing this?” he breathes out, a small smile on his sweet, pink lips.

“Well, I’m surely not giving up on this, we came a long way to be here,” you chuckle. “Question is, are you gonna give up on us? On… me?”

“Hell no,” he chuckles softly as he shakes his head. You smile down at him and leaning down you peck his lips tenderly.

“Then… we really are doing this.”

SEQUEL: 🌊 AN OCEAN AWAY 🌊

-

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing xiv.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 5, 690

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

hello!!!! we’re here at fourteen chapters omg ✨✨when i first started this series it was mostly self-indulgent and now there are people who actually enjoy reading it??🥺 it almost doesn’t seem real T.T 

thank you so much for the love and support!!! just so I don't give too much spoilers for this chap - I apologise to my fellow geminis for the potential slander 🤣 this is more of a self-drag lmaooo 

anyway, I hope you enjoy this chap!!!

“Ah. I’m getting allergies.” Yena sniffs, scrunching her nose.

You furrow your brows in concern, “Are you okay? Do you need any medicine?”

“It’s just the seasonal changes,” She brushes you off.

You nod in understanding, “I get it. My mom has horrible reactions towards pollen so—”

“I’m not allergic to flowers.” She blinks.

“Then what—?”

“It’s Gemini season. It’s like—literally the worst time of the year.” She blinks.

You gawk at her, taking a whole ten seconds to process her serious tone when she doesn’t waver under your scrutiny.

“I’m a Gemini,” You inform her slowly.

“I mean …” She shrugs all as you scowl at her, opting to throw the closest object you had, which was your favourite pen so you decide against it; simply shooting her the meanest glare you could possibly muster.

“Look, it’s not you,” She sighs, and you’re half-expecting her to finish with an it’s me to make you scoff, “It’s me.” And there you go. “I mean, it’s Gemini’s in general because they’re two-faced bitches who have the worst emotional attachment issues. Like they’re literally what the opposite of glue is. And they’re so over-analytical. How is it like psychoanalysing every person you meet only to hurt your own feelings and sulk about it?”

You blink.

“I mean it’s not you but if the shoe fits.” She says casually, plopping a grape into her mouth that you’re tempted to slap away.

“You’re so mean!” You pout indignantly.

She cackles, throwing her head back as you continue to sulk. You weren’t that bad. You just … you were risk-averse! You liked having the freedom to observe everyone and anyone and package them into tiny compartments in your head so you could understand them better. You weren’t … that Gemini.

“You’re so cute,” She coos pinching your cheeks. “No wonder Beef One and Beef Two like you so much.” She teases.

Your first reaction is to blush because you know who exactly she’s talking about, but you have more pressing matters, like—

“You have nicknames for them?” You ask, baffled.

“Hey, I wasn’t friends with many girls in high school. Don’t girls usually have nicknames for their crushes?” She says through a pout.

You stay expressionless as you try to gauge the level of seriousness you can extract from her tone.

You realise she’s dead serious.

“Yeah, but we’re in college,” You argue, scrunching your nose, “And sides’, it’s not like they’re strangers. We know them.”

She rolls her eyes, waving you off like you were the inconvenience here. Then she leans forward, her eyes twinkling as she takes a complete one-eighty that you try to adjust to.

“So … you Gemini hoe, what’s your plans?” She nudges you.

You raise a brow, “Did you just call me a—?”

“Plans, ___. Stay on track.” She scolds.

You sigh, still fond but you pretend to be annoyed. You really couldn’t get annoyed with Yena. After all, the more time you spend with her the more you realise how much life sucked before you had her in your life. You spent each moment learning more about her quirks and habits, her choice of words that made you giggle or laugh until you were crying.

And you realise that this is how she loves, a little rough but welcomed nonetheless.

“If you’re talking about my birthday then … not much. I’m probably stuck doing admin work for the college’s charity programme.” You shrug, stabbing a fork into your soiled salad.

Yena gapes at you, “Not much—excuse me? It’s your birthday! You’re turning twenty-five!” 

You look at her dryly, “I’ve been twenty-five since the year—”

She groans, “That’s not the same! You’re like—officially twenty-five. You’re literally hitting the mark for a quarter-life crisis. Isn’t that something to celebrate?” 

“Me going through an existential crisis at the end of my degree is not how I want to celebrate my birthday but okay,” You blink.

She rolls her eyes at your realism.

“That’s not the point. Point is, this is our first birthday together and I want it to be special.” She points out.

You snort, “What? Are we doubling my birthday as our monthsary or something?”

She shoves you with a brute force that has you snickering but she continues to pester you anyway.

“You’re so dumb. So smart, but so dumb,” She shakes her head, “You’re always studying or doing some form of work that requires the use of more than one brain cell. You deserve a break. Besides, you have two dudes to pick from on how you’d like to be wined and dined and—”

“Yena!” You whine.

“—it’ll be like an episode of the Bachelorette! But just with a super cool and smart best friend that’ll make the decision for you. It’s not your birthday. It’s ours.” She emphasises towards the end.

You stare at her for a long second, before the two of you are bursting into laughter at the absurdity of her statement. 

It was nice, just to laugh about things without having your heart feel so heavy. Even if it was a mild distraction, it was still wholly pleasant to be able to just talk about mindless things that didn’t require much mental gymnastics to navigate the conversation with.

“What are the two of you laughing about?” Taehyung and Jimin arrive at impeccable timing, sliding into the booth with their own packaged food. It’s very college-student-esque, a cute paper (because no plastic) container filled with an array of assortments.

“None of your XY chromosomes business.” Yena retorts.

Jimin blinks, “You are literally so hostile.”

“Then don’t give me a reason to be.” She sticks her tongue out petulantly.

You laugh, nudging her with your shoulder, “Be nice.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes but manages to keep a civil smile on his face. Always the more rational one between the two. 

“Anyway, Yena definitely isn’t going to answer me so, what’s up?” He turns to look at you.

You roll your eyes but it’s half-hearted, “She wants to celebrate my birthday like we’re on the Bachelorette.”

“Like you’re on the Bachelorette.” She corrects.

“Oh my God, our baby’s turning twenty-five!” Jimin coos at the reminder, pinching your cheeks as he coddles you. You scowl and weakly shove him away, even if you preen under the attention.

“I’m literally older than the both of you.” You huff.

Yena blinks, “There’s no way I’m the oldest person at this table.”

Taehyung furrows his brows, “Wait—how old are you?”

She sends him a scathing glare that has his arms raised up in defence.

“Jeez, okay. Don’t answer.”

“I’m going to answer because you told me not to.” She clips. “I’m twenty-seven.”

Jimin blinks, “No wonder you and Yoongi hyung are so alike.”

You almost miss it, but as Yena so eloquently pointed out, you were a sucker for psychoanalysing people (even if you didn’t want to admit it yet) that you notice the way she flushes ever so slightly as she scoffs.

“Him? How dare you compare me to that sorry excuse of a—!”

“Okay, everyone is beneath you. I’m sorry your highness.” Jimin rolls his eyes.

You make a note to ask her about it because you know for a fact that Yoongi ‘complains’ about Yena every hour he can. It’s almost as if he can’t go long enough without mentioning her.

You smile to yourself as you duck your head.

“Exactly,” She flips her hair over her shoulders before turning to face you. “Anyway, back to you—our baby.”

Taehyung nods, “Exactly, the baby.”

You scrunch your nose, “Don’t coddle me.”

He pats your head before cooing at you like he would to an actual baby, “But you’re just so cute. You’re too good for this shitty world. Too good for the likes of mere mortals like us.”

“Not me.” Yena blinks before gesturing to their bodies, “You.”

Jimin sticks his tongue out in retaliation as you sigh at their never-ending bickering.

Somehow … it felt right. You think it most of the times but you don’t know any other way to describe how it feels to be back with your friends, laughing, bickering and just appreciating their presence.

When you and Jungkook had your issues, it was like you made the conscious choice to avoid everyone and anyone as much as you could, and any interaction you had during that period was purely out of coincidences and not the intention. You remember actively avoiding Jimin and Taehyung because it felt too draining to pretend like you didn’t have a battle in your head. Even studying or spending time with Namjoon made you feel guilty, the thought of Jungkook lingering in your mind. Yena was there through it all, but even then you saw her as much as you did with any of your classmates you so happened to share a class with.

In fact, if it weren’t for Yena you’d probably have zero social interactions as a whole because she just knew. She somehow picked up on your internal conflicts but never outwardly shamed you or confronted you about it. All she did was be there for you, offering you her presence and you were grateful.

So, yeah. Things were better, but your heart was still at its core—confused. Your feelings for Jungkook didn’t disappear overnight and you knew that you were the one that asked for space.

You forgave him … you did, honestly. But there are things you can’t forget, and those are the things that you wished you could. The words he said in principle, was outright shitty. But the fact that it came from him only poked at every single one of your insecurities that you developed over the years.

You knew it wasn’t healthy to compare yourself to other women when they were living vastly different lives than you were, but it’s proven difficult when you’re forced to see these type of women every day, at college, in your community work or on the media. 

Believing Jungkook’s apparent feelings for you was harder because, well. Jungkook was Jungkook. He wasn’t just another guy, and despite his shortcomings, he had more merits than he’d let on and you knew that people saw that. It was also the fact that Jungkook had a charm that drew all types of people in. He was soft-spoken but passionate, and people loved a quiet achiever.

You … knew about the women. Way before Jennie and way before the thing between the two of you happened. Jimin and Taehyung would always update you about the new fling or girl he had tied to his hip just as he was in his final year in high school. You had to force a smile every single time they’d snicker and joke about how your Jungkook suddenly became a man overnight.

And you noticed the trend with the women he liked. They were … captivating. Beautiful wasn’t even enough to describe them because they looked like they could carry the world on their shoulders and spark immense change with just the movement of their lips. They were confident and charismatic, outgoing and just the right amount of flirty. You were anything but.

It sucked, majorly, because you spent years agonising over the fact that you were already coined with the older sister title in the group because of the way you acted—just a little more uptight than the average woman your age. You were quiet but loud in the right company; you didn’t like crowds, socialising or mingling around with people you didn’t know and based on your observations it seemed like that was the only thing that Jungkook’s been doing ever since he made it to senior year in high school, and even in the first years of college.

You don’t resent him, you think. You couldn’t blame him because you weren’t honest either. You consented, to all of the kisses and touches even if he hadn’t officially had sex with you. You wanted to, but you were terrified. Not at the prospect of penetration but at the prospect of not being enough and the fact that Jungkook was the only person you wanted to have sex with while he had options that were far more attractive and experienced than you were.

That’s why you needed time because at least you could get your shit together even if it was an uphill battle.

“Earth to ____?” Taehyung waves a hand in front of your face with a concerned expression.

You blink, snapping out of your daze as you offer a meek smile and an apology.

“We just asked you if you wanted a small get together at Tae’s and I’s place for your birthday?” Jimin asks.

“Really?” You beam. That was exactly what you preferred.

“Yeah, we know you don’t like clubs and stuff. Just a small and intimate gathering with all your best buds.” He grins.

You nod your head, but Yena beats you to a response.

“By best buds you mean the three friends she has, which is us and the two meatheads duelling for her affection.” She snorts.

You flush, “Y-Yena!”

Taehyung snickers at your embarrassment.

“It doesn’t help that both of them are literally the biggest dudes on the football team. It’s literally like watching King Kong and Godzilla getting into a fight for world domination.”

Jimin throws his back in laughter as you fold your arms across your chest at post at the way your friends are practically crying in laughter at the image. Jimin was clutching onto Taehyung for his dear life because if he didn’t then he’d fall off the chair.

“Stop,” You whine, “you guys are being mean.”

“Oh my God, you’re literally the only person on this earth that would take two people fighting for your attention as an offence.” Taehyung groans.

“I-It’s not that!” You deny exasperatedly, “I-It’s just … awkward …”

Jimin sighs with a small smile, patting your head.

“If it’s any consolation I think it’s offensive that Jungkook thinks he even has the right to breathe in—”

“Jimin!”

“Wow. It really is like King Kong and Godzilla.” Jimin whistles lowly, eyeing the scene before him with amusement lingering in his eyes.

“Do you think they’re gonna start slamming their chests soon or …?” Taehyung trails off in a whisper, leaning into Jimin so that the two other men wouldn’t notice.

“I can literally hear you.” You say dryly.

Jimin offers you a plastic smile, “You’re meant to hear us, babe. How about you try to tame them like Jane did with Tarzan?”

Jimin nearly shrieks when you shove him so fiercely that he topples over into Taehyung’s grasp as the second part of the duo only catches him in the process. 

You sigh, completely ignoring the way that Jimin’s muttering curses that were directed to you under his breath. Instead, you were transfixed on the scene before you—which specifically is Jungkook and Namjoon staring each other down through the mirror of the gym. You were lucky that it was just the five of you since Namjoon was able to use his captain privileges to book the gym because you had no idea how to explain the fact that two big-sized men were attempting to outdo each other in their circuit reps as if they were on a suicide mission.

“Listen, when I agreed to help you out with your sets I thought I was meant to help log it in for a report.” You exasperate, but the two men continue their manly lift-off as they huff and puff their exertion away.

“Trust me, you are helping. Being the motivation is more than—”

This time it’s Taehyung who faces your wrath as you thwack him upside the head. 

From where Jungkook and Namjoon were, Jungkook can only deliver death stares into the direction of his captain who returns it tenfold. He wasn’t even sure why they were doing this but something a flicked definitely switched in Jungkook when Namjoon (purposefully) revealed that you were helping out with something. At the gym. Supposedly alone.

Jungkook’s primitive side came out because the next thing Namjoon knew was that Jungkook managed to drag himself, and Jimin and Taehyung as a diversion. He still feels his chest swell with pride when recalling the scowl on Namjoon’s face when he entered the gym, all fake smiles and a pep in his step.

“____, could you help me spot?” Namjoon breathes, sitting up from whatever the hell he was doing with the barbell. You weren’t fixated with gym language and you weren’t even sure why he was asking you when there was an entire Jimin and Taehyung right next to you.

“Uh, okay sure—“

“Noona,” Jungkook calls.

You freeze.

“Jungkook … I thought we established that you don’t need to call me that anymore.” You raise an eyebrow.

You miss the obvious glare that Namjoon shoots his bitchass friend, as well as the snorts that leave Jimin and Taehyung’s mouth.

“Pay attention to me,” Jungkook pouts. Like, actually pouts. You somehow flush because he seemed so much like the younger version of Jungkook who used to always coddle you for attention.

“Okay but after I help—”

“Yeah. After she helps me.” Namjoon interjects, and you nearly jump at the way he’s suddenly behind you, more so—pressed against your back with his hands on your hips as he moves you aside to get to another piece of equipment.

Your breath hitches because while you weren’t exactly invested in Namjoon in the romantic sense, he was undeniably attractive and … big. You could salivate in private.

“Oh my God, do you see that?” Taehyung hisses in a hushed whisper.

“Hyung is petty,” Jimin gawks.

“This is Namjoon we’re talking about. Didn’t he steal all the umbrellas from your dorm because you ratted him out to the librarian when he broke a bookshelf?” Taehyung recalls.

Jimin pauses to retract his mind to that moment.

“He’s so petty and I’m living for it. Look at Kook’s face,” He snickers, nudging Taehyung with his shoulder.

Jungkook only can clench his jaw in return because he knew that you wouldn’t be a fan of him reaching out to strangle the shit out of Namjoon. But the older boy seems fine, if not pleased with how Jungkook’s fuming in his own spot.

“Let me just …” You cock a thumb to Namjoon, before releasing a breath of your own and going to help him with whatever he needed in the first place.

“Jimin can help him. I have a more pressing problem.” He complains.

You stop in your tracks before turning around, raising an eyebrow at Jungkook who finally sits up, still staring at you like you held all the solutions in the world.

“Literally wait for your turn,” Namjoon scowls.

“My arm hurts,” Jungkook says, raising his arm to show you. 

“I don’t … see anything?” You furrow your brows.

“Because my muscles hurt, Noona,” Jungkook emphasises with a flex of his bicep and you can feel yourself get hot in the way your eyes can’t stray away.

You’re momentarily distracted by the blatant display of muscle by Jungkook that you completely miss the way that Jimin and Taehyung are struggling to breathe because of how hard they’re stifling their laughter or the way that Namjoon is contemplating on throwing the nearest dumbbell into Jungkook’s direction.

You flush, “Okay, you know what? Wait here. Let me get the first aid kit.” You mumble, quickly scampering off to alleviate yourself from the situation.

The moment you leave the room, Namjoon takes two long strides until he reaches where Jungkook’s sat, before wrapping a hand around the arm that was supposedly hurt—and squeezes.

“Ow! What the fuck hyung?!” Jungkook shrieks.

“Don’t hyung me, you brat.” Namjoon seethes, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jungkook gapes, while Jimin and Taehyung watch in amusement.

“Me?! What’s wrong with you?” Jungkook retorts, equally as agitated, “Oh, _____, help spot me! Woe is me! Like she wouldn’t get crushed under you, you meathead!” 

“Like you’re any better,” Namjoon snaps, “Oh, Noona, pay attention to me. My arm hurts. You might as well have asked her to change your fucking diapers at the rate you’re acting like a damn child.”

“You’re the one that started all of this!” Jungkook exasperates, “With all due respect hyung, I love you and you’re my captain but I really feel like smashing your head into the wall right now.”

“That’s it?” Namjoon scoffs, “Well I’ll do you one better and let you know that every time you breathe in my direction I feel like—”

“Oh my God will you two idiots shut the fuck up?” Taehyung interjects, snapping at the two boys who pause, staring up at him with wide eyes.

Even Jimin is surprised at Taehyung’s intervention, purely because he was the type that usually let shit slide or let other people put problematic individuals into place. He was the mediator, the diplomat—not usually the aggressor.

“Wha—”

“Another peep and I’m going to smother your body under the dumbbells and leave you here to rot and die.” Taehyung seethes, staring straight into Jungkook’s soul.

That shuts him up.

“Both of you are acting like goddamn children, and for what? To battle out your masculinity to see who gets ____’s attention first?” Taehyung exasperates.

Namjoon clears his throat, “We were just—”

“—acting like a bunch of barbarians who’s never seen civilisation?” Taehyung retorts dryly, “Yeah. Because that’s exactly what this looks like. The two of you are so petty and for what? You two are literally rubbing the last remaining brain cells you have with each other but nothing is coming out from it. Like—nothing. Do you think she’d give a shit which one of you can lift more reps? That means absolutely nothing! She’s already freaked the fuck out at the prospect of her childhood best friend being in love with her and now we have Big Tit Number One and Two battling it out like you’re in the Greek Olympics.”

Jungkook blinks, and Jimin is mildly impressed.

“So before she comes back and tends to Jungkook’s hurt muscle,” Taehyung sneers, eyes narrowing at a guilty-looking Jungkook, “Both of you better sort your shit out.”

Namjoon flushes, embarrassed at the prospect of being called out, all while Jungkook is avoiding eye contact at all costs.

“Oh my God, do you have a crush on each other or something? Apologise!” Taehyung gestures towards the two boys who awkwardly blink at each other, feeling much like reprimanded children.

It’s Namjoon who breaks the silence first, clearly the more mature one in the situation.

“Look … Jungkook,” He sighs, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to … drag it out like this. I don’t mean it maliciously and you’re my friend and teammate, so I’d really hate if a girl got in the way.”

Jungkook nibbles on his lips, eyebrows still scrunched; and the irrational part of him tells him to ignore the apology. But with the way that Taehyung is glaring him down, with Jimin’s expectant gaze, he knows that he doesn’t have much of a choice.

“I’m sorry … too,” he winces at his own voice, “But just to let you know … I really …” He shuts his eyes, feeling his chest tighten when he tries to force the words out, “She isn’t just … a girl to me, hyung. I really, really like her. And—I know you like her too but … I fucked up and I really want to make things right and seeing you—”

Jungkook is flushing while he rambles on, fully aware that the rest of his friends are listening intently to him speaking his heart. But a hand rests itself on his shoulder, and when Jungkook opens his eyes he sees Namjoon offering him a gentle smile.

“I know,” He says, “I know I said I wouldn’t back off …” He trails off and Jungkook recalls the conversation he had with him in the very same gym just a few weeks back, “But I don’t think I can compete with a decade long love story.” 

Jungkook scoffs, though his ears are flushed.

“It’s really not—”

Namjoon waves him off, clasping a tight hand onto his back that tells him it’s okay, and whatever that was going on would get better. And Jungkook feels marginally better and allows himself to let out a sigh of release.

“So are the two of you gonna kiss or what?” Jimin asks in the midst of the silence.

Namjoon glares at the boy, “Don’t make me give you an extra ten laps.”

He backs down immediately, raising his hands up in defence. And at that moment, you return, all smiles and with a pant as you raise the first aid kit up.

“Your arm?” You smile sweetly, and Jungkook can only offer a weak on in return.

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Depends. Will I have to run from the government if I answer you honestly?” Yena ponders out loud.

You roll your eyes but shake your head anyway. The two of you were meant to be cooking dinner but you’ve surrendered yourself to Netflix and Yena’s witty live commentary on horrible films you were scrolling through an hour earlier. Though, your head wasn’t quite in it, to begin with; your thoughts drifting to other aspects, ones that you thought too hard for and didn’t necessarily know the answer to.

It was frustrating, the way that you wanted to have a solution for everything but overthought every single case that happens to pass by your mind. 

“No one’s hunting anyone down, your anarchist,” You say, “This is a little … personal.” 

You didn’t have any girl friends prior to Yena, and that was your first mistake. You weren’t the person that actively avoided having girl friends because you thought they were dramatic or overly emotional but purely because you never knew how to befriend women. It was weird—being a woman yet being muddled with your own sense of femininity that suppressed your ability to form meaningful friendships with your women peers.

Throughout most of your childhood and teenaged life, you only had Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook. While they were more than enough to keep your memories cheerful and filled with laughter, there were more personal things that you couldn’t quite approach them with. They had each other to confide in their ‘manly’ discussions, small talk that you’d often flush at—but you couldn’t ask them the same things you wanted to.

You knew, that on a fundamental level that your personal things were just … things. It wasn’t that deep, nor did it require a PhD in Gender Studies to fully understand the nuance of periods or apparent ‘girl’ problems; you just needed to listen. But you were timid, and you got embarrassed super easily—so that never boded well whenever you’d want to approach them with a question of your own.

But now, you had Yena—debatably the most open and understanding person you’ve met in your life; and you owed it to yourself, and her—to be honest, to live yourself vicariously in your girl best friends eyes—and ask:

“How do you have sex?”

Granted, there was definitely a smoother way of peeling off the bandaid, but you supposed if you were going to be discussing this one way or another, you’d go big or go home.

“I’m sorry,” She coughs, “What?”

You blink.

“Sorry, I guess I should’ve asked if you were a virgin first …” You mumble.

Yena stares at you with a stupefied expression as she gapes at you.

“Hey, repeat after me: candy, tree and cat.” She grabs you by your shoulders.

“I’m not cerebrally compromised, Yena,” you say dryly.

“Repeat,” She glares.

You huff, shoving her hand off your shoulder.

“Candy, tree and cat. There, happy?” You huff.

She eyes you weirdly as you sigh. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes!” You exasperate, “So like … how? Do you just? Penetrate?”

Yena blinks one more time, her eyes trailing to the ceiling as she asks for a higher being to give her strength before she returns her gaze onto your figure.

“Babe, that is literally the unsexiest way to approach sex.” 

“Penetration?” You furrow your brows.

She scrunches her brows, “No.” She gestures to you, “That.”

You scowl.

“I don’t know how to approach sex! That’s why I’m asking you. I literally don’t know who else to approach. If I went to Jimin or Taehyung I’m pretty sure they’d just stare at me and cry. Namjoon is out of the picture because he’d likely approach sex textbook style and I don’t need that level of detail right now. I definitely can’t ask Jungkook because he’s the guy I wanna have sex with. So yeah. I’m here because you’re a woman and the only person I can have a full conversation with without losing my will to live.”

Yena gawks at you, jaw slack as you finish your ramble; ears flushed.

“… you …” She begins, wracking her brain for the words that seem to fail her, “… okay. You know what, the fact that you’re here and putting your big girl pants on and asking me this is a feat in itself so I’m going to just ignore the fact that you said you wanted to have sex with Jungkook.”

You flush, “I was word vomiting—”

“Ah,” She holds her hands up, levelling you with a knowing glare, “If you want honest, you be honest too.”

You slump in your seat, sighing as you nod your head defeatedly.

“Firstly, I’m not a virgin. I could never be a virgin.” Yena declares, “Granted, I’ve slept with three people and two of them were women. But the idiot I lost my virginity to was, unfortunately, of XY chromosomes so … I guess I can answer your questions.”

“I mean … I know how sex works but … approaching it …” You mutter.

“And sex isn’t this groundbreaking act that requires Einstein’s IQ to partake in. It’s both intimate and not, and that’s definitely a personal preference. You can know the semantics of how people have sex, for hets in this case, which is just the classic ol’ penetration method where the penis enters the—”

“Your point?” You exasperate.

“—okay, I got a little carried away. But really, sex isn’t … difficult. It’s scary, I’ll give you that. But you don’t go into your first time thinking you’ll be great at it. Hell, you won’t even like sex that much your first few times unless your partner is a sex demon or something.”

“I mean when Jungkook …” You shudder, “When he … I … you know, did things … it felt …” You fiddle with your fingers. Your ears were undoubtedly on fire, and you were so embarrassed saying these things out loud because it was just so awkward!

“Good? You know I’m not going to judge you for it,” she says pointedly, “That’s what friends are for, right?”

You flush, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment. You knew that Yena would never judge you for something as trivial and as unimportant as your sexual endeavours, but this was still a road you’ve yet to properly navigate yourself.

“I … came,” you wince at your breathy voice, “It felt good. And … he’s experienced, you know? I just don’t want to …”

Yena looks at you inquisitively.

“You don’t want to …?”

You sigh deeply, considering your next words with a soft murmur, “I don’t want to not live up to his expectations, you know?”

She frowns at you, “Jungkook’s made some mistakes but you said it yourself. He’s in love with you,” she says softly, “There’s no pressure to have sex with him just because it’s out in the open now, you know?”

You nibble on your lips.

“It’s … more than just that,” you tell her, “I told him I needed time, and really, I do. But it isn’t because I’m confused. I mean, kind of—but really it’s because I don’t want to walk into something and disappoint him … I’m just … scared.”

Yena holds your hand in hers while offering you a gentle smile.

“It’s valid that you’re scared. But there really isn’t anything that can come out of being scared right now. The two of you worked through an obstacle, and here you are creating another one that doesn’t quite exist yet. Trust me, when the time feels right, it does. And you’ll feel ready. Will you still be scared? Maybe. But it’ll feel like it’s meant to fit within your timeline.”

You nibble on your lips, “Is it bad that I’m overthinking this?” You wince.

Yena shrugs her shoulders, “Like everything else in your life?” She teases.

You whine, shoving at her shoulder playfully where all Yena does is snicker in response. You weren’t quite sure what you were expecting out of the conversation, even if it was vaguely about the ins and outs of sexual exploration. And she was right, you’ll always be afraid of something, whether it’ll benefit you or harm you because that’s what change does. It shifts your comfort zone into a space that may be unfamiliar but necessary.

You lean into Yena’s shoulder, and a wave of overwhelming emotion washes upon you when you look at her. You really didn’t know how you survived a time without Yena in your life. And as if she’s noticed your glassy gaze, she raises an eyebrow at you.

“What are you looking at?”

You grin at her, all teeth and gums on display as you hug onto her arm like a koala.

“I’m just really happy you’re in my life.” You sigh wistfully.

She pauses for one whole second before she snorts.

“Wow, talk about sex once and suddenly you’re in love with me?” She wiggles her eyebrows at you, “Tell Jeon and Kim that you’re mine now.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes.

“They’re not even competing in the same league as you are,” you assure her.

She smiles.

“So … does that mean I don’t need to get you a birthday gift?”

That earns a thwack on her shoulder.

[luvwithkawa]

Birthdays

pairing: kei tsukishima x f!reader 

tw: none, pure fluff

summery: tsukishima has never really been a birthday person, but you make his day better on anyday

a/n: In honor of my darling’s birthday coming up <33

“happy birthday!!” 

you jumped towards your boyfriend excitedly. to passerby's, it looked like it was more your birthday than his. 

“y/n its 6:30 in the morning, and your voice is above what I can endure right now”

tsuki wasn't a morning person, you weren't either so you totally got how he felt, even if he didn't express it the best way. the both of you has morning activities with his being volleyball practice, so you two often walked together.

“yeah, of course” you smiled, holding back another voicing of celebration

tsuki grinned at you. he loves how you can understand him.

“so what do you wanna do today?”

“ok, I was thinking after practice we could walk to class together, and we could go to that little shop you like to eat lunch, then after school we can go to my house to cuddle and maybe watch a movie? its still up to you though”

“I think its perfect” 

god how did you manage to read this mind? normally sending that much time with anyone else would be exhausting, but he was actually looking forward to lingering through out the day with you. especially with school work being crazy these days, it was nice to have a break.

“ok, I got that strawberry shortcake you like, and I also got another cupcake that's shaped like a dinosaur! plus I packed you an extra lunch because I know how you never have time to prepare food on morning practice days”

on the outside, tsuki looked like he could care less, but he was undoubtedly melting on the inside. you managed to remember all his likes and dislikes, even tough he only mentioned them a few times. he couldn't help but give you a soft smile

you both appreciated each others presence in silence until it was time to head back

you waited for tsuki but the school gate. tired of the school day, you just wanted to fall asleep in his arms. somehow his body temperature is warming then his personality

speaking of the devil..

“what’re you thinking about?”

you jumped a little. 

“nothing, let go now” you responded quickly

he gave you a confused look but didn't question it

the both of you talked about your day as you walked home. tsukishima was also exhausted. practice this morning was draining. apparently kageyama and hinata was arguing again, on tip of that, there’s a tournament coming up so they have to add in extra practices.

homework was fairly easy today, you both got it over with quickly and put on his favorite movie. tsuki laid down on the couch with you.

suddenly everything was ok. all the worries and stress about homework, family, and teachers faded away. there was only you two in this bubble of happiness. 

another a/n: SJKDLFJSEIOFJ this was kinda short but i plan on editing it again, I had some family issues in the middle of writing 

[buckyownsmylife]

Diving Bell - Andy Barber smut

The one where Andy has been a patient librarian, but now that you’ve accepted his advances...

Warnings: smut, breeding kink, dubcon, (andy pushes the relationship into boundaries that weren’t previously consented), age gap, (reader is over eighteen and in college), semi-public sex, somewhat of an exhibitionism kink, oral (f), andy’s definitely dark but reader is generally into it, she just doesn’t know what “it” will be, dirty talk

Word count: 3k<

A/N:  this is for my own birthday celebration challenge! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them, instead of on Thursdays, which are my usual one-shot posting days. Hope you guys like it!

Reader’s P.O.V.

My face burned and I wondered how I hadn’t spontaneously combusted from how hot I felt under the hot new librarian’s gaze. Sure, the girls had warned me about it - I’d hear so much about him, in fact, that I was sure I’d be disappointed when I actually did manage to meet him.

Boy, was I wrong.

He was the definition of daddy, luscious beard and hair just begging to be pulled and I could feel the burn his jaw would leave behind if he deposited kisses down my neck - or better yet, on the insides of my thighs - but he was at least twenty years older than me.

There was absolutely no way I’d ever catch his attention. Not when so many girls had tried to get in his pants - girls hotter than me - and had failed miserably, as I’d been told time and time again from the very same seductresses.

So I saw absolutely no point in trying. Although, one could very well admire, right? Also, fantasize couldn’t do any harm, not even to my extremely vulnerable pride. It’s not like I could control it, anyway.

But another thing I couldn’t control was his effect on me. The way my whole body warmed up when I felt his eyes on it, how I couldn’t immediately focus on his words whenever he addressed me.  I even stopped coming to the library to study because 1) I couldn’t concentrate with him around and 2) his presence had brought a whole new wave of first-time library users, and seeing as their interests weren’t on the actual books, they tended to be extremely loud.

Once essays started to get assigned though, there wasn’t much I could do. I had to get back to the library, and so I chose to go when it was already dark, hoping he wouldn’t pick up that shift, and knowing most frat girls would be at an impromptu Thursday-night party to celebrate (once again) the start of classes.

I didn’t understand why they couldn’t just throw a party for the sake of partying. Did they have to reuse the same excuse, over and over again? It’s not like anyone cared. I certainly didn’t, and the people who went for the free beer didn’t care about anything just as long as the alcohol kept flowing.

“What are you doing here?” His voice startled me, almost making me drop the pile of books I’d been gathering. Even though there was no way I’d confuse him with someone else, I still looked over my shoulder to make sure it was really him, that he was actually there, staring at me with those caring warm brown eyes.

“S-should I be anywhere else?” I tried to sass, even if my own voice gave me away. He chuckled though, extending a hand to help me with the load in my arms, and although I hesitated for a second, I ended up accepting his help. It was his job, after all. This couldn’t really be considered flirting, right?

“I don’t know. I’ve heard about this party tonight, figured you’d be there.” Frowning, I finally turned to stare at him directly in the eyes, almost immediately regretting my decision. Damn, he looked good.

“How do you know about the party?” I asked, and his lips immediately curled up, trying to contain a smile from stretching over his face.

“Some girls may or may not have invited me to meet them there.” Clicking my tongue, I decided to look back at the bookshelf, instead of paying him any more attention.

“Why? Are you jealous?” The question felt too much like something a fuckboy my age might ask me at a party, not a forty-year-old man who worked a full-time job. When I turned to look at him again, eyebrows raised high, he chuckled.

“Sorry, that’s not usually my style… I’m just at a loss of ways to get you to notice me, that’s all.” Well, now I was beyond shocked.

“Why do you want me to notice you?” I asked, utterly confused, but Andy just laughed, shaking his head at me like he was profoundly amused by my ways.

“I always notice when you’re around. Even worse, I always notice when you aren’t.” And then, as he looked around like he wanted to make sure other people wouldn’t hear him, he leaned over me and confessed, “It gets pretty lonely here without you.”

The accompanying wink almost gave me a heart attack. Stuttering out something even though I didn’t know what to say, I moved away from the bookshelf in search of the nearest table, finding it thankfully empty.

When I turned around to look for him again, he was right by my side.

“I don’t get it,” I managed to admit once my arms were book-free. “We’ve talked like twice. You helped me find books, I acted like a fool. You weren’t supposed to flirt with me, why aren’t you interested in the college girls who actually hit on you?”

He raised his eyebrows before frowning, hands deep in his pockets as he stared down at me in all of his height. “Have you ever considered… that I just don’t want them?”

The insinuation stirred something deep inside of me, leaving me flushed and overall a mess. Stumbling out an apology, I gathered my stuff and left as quickly as possible, determined to process what had happened that evening by myself, so it could actually feel real and I could decide what to do from then on.

But something changed ever since that evening. I stopped trying to run away from him and started to actively go to the library in the times I knew he was there, at first still avoiding him and looking away every time he caught me staring, silently grateful that he didn’t try to force me to open up to him.

His patience was rewarded when in a few weeks, I began to talk to him again. Asking him for book recommendations, never anything other than what was strictly related to his job, but the way his eyes glinted knowingly at me warned me that he did understand where my mind was at.

It didn’t take long for him to start flirting with me, and from then on, I slowly accepted his advances and even began to eagerly wait for them.

I smiled widely when I heard his low whistle, admiring the way he looked in that comfortable sweater as he put away the books he was holding to fully give me all of his attention.

“Well, don’t you look incredible?” He asked as I twirled so he could fully see the dress I’d put on just for him. “Did you dress up for me, pretty girl? Because I like to think that you did.”

Biting my lower lip, I tried to gather the courage I’d been trying to build up all week, before finally nodding and admitting, “Yes, I did.” From the stupefied look on his face, it didn’t seem like he was expecting that. Even worse, I wasn’t expecting the outcome of my little attempt to flirt back.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” And that was all the warning I got before his hands cradled my face and he took my mouth in his, kissing me breathless, leaving me aching and soaked when he finally released me.

I was panting by the time he let go of my lips, and he smiled softly at me as he brushed over my cheekbones, saying, “You know… if you ever need anything… You know I’m always here to help.”

Andy’s P.O.V.

“So, what brings you here tonight?” My own smile denounced just how much of her intentions I already knew, from how well I knew her. Her late-night visits to the library had become more and more frequent, and I couldn’t say that I hated it.

“I don’t know,” she feigned nonchalance, shrugging while perusing the bookshelves before looking back at me from over her shoulder. “The hot new librarian in charge of the night shift has told me he was always available to help me with anything I needed, and I’ve been needing a distraction.”

My chuckle was low, in order not to interrupt the few students still trying to finish whatever assignment they were working on, but she heard it. I watched as she shivered at the sound of my voice, prompting me to lick my lips at the powerful reaction I could so easily elicit from her.

“You didn’t use to be so blunt,” I teased, remembering how she used to come in here looking for me, only to run away at the last second. It was adorable. Ever since I started working at this university, it wasn’t unusual for college girls to come in groups and watch me from a distance, their giggles whenever I glanced at them unmistakable in the almost completely silent environment. Eventually, one or two would always break away from the group and try to flirt while their friends became a captive audience, but I was quick to shut them down.

They weren’t the one I wanted. She was standing in front of me now, pretending to be interested in a random book, biting her lower lip to keep a smile from spreading over her face. “Do you miss it?”

There was something undeniably attractive by her shyness back then, her inability to ask me for information or even sustain my gaze, but now that I knew what it was like to have her meet my eyes, now that I’d had the luxury of hearing her speak, of getting to know the intricacies of her mind, how could I miss what was, back then, a stranger?

“Not at all.” Her laughter, even subdued because of the place we were in, was enough to have my stomach doing backflips. I had to smile, instinctively getting closer to her, just like a moth, drawn to a flame. 

“I want to do dirty, dirty things to you,” I admitted, one hand on the back of her head as I pressed her against the bookshelf, my lips just over her ear as my beard undoubtedly tickled her neck. “Can’t very well protect my soul if I’m still thinking about you as an innocent little thing, now can I?”

Her eyes dropped down to my lips before meeting mine again, and just like that, I had all the authorization I needed to connect our lips and kiss her breathless. Humming in delight against her quiet neediness, her eagerness to open her lips, welcome my tongue with hers, I blindly moved us further towards the back of the library, relaxed in the knowledge that amongst taxidermia books no one would come to check on us.

Not that I cared all that much if they did.

“Hm… Want me, sweetheart?” I pressed, needing to hear her say it, taking sick pleasure in knowing this came from her, this was her own desire. She almost didn’t answer me, eyelids heavily pressing her eyes closed when our mouths parted, but in the absence of my touch on her, she jolted.

“Yeah, I do! I do, I do…” She insisted, pressing herself against me, feeling just how badly I wanted her too. It made her gasp, witnessing how hard she had made me - she didn’t know it yet, but it’d been this way ever since the first day.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” I whispered, just to see the way goosebumps took over her flesh while I got rid of her underwear, moving us towards an empty table where I could lay her out to take.

“No, I don’t want you to stop,” she moaned when she saw me leaning over to kiss between her legs, eyes still connected to hers until she closed them to throw her head back, overtaken by the sensation of my warm tongue slipping between her folds. It was better that way, she wouldn’t see the dangerous smirk that denounced that she would come to regret her words before I was done with her.

She tasted just as sweet as I always imagined her to. So wet already, it was clear she was desperate for me. The cock straining against my pants reminded me I couldn’t be too cocky about it - I wanted her just as badly.

“C’mon, honey…” I teased, dipping my tongue in her hole as my thumb frantically rubbed her tiny clit. “Give me more, I want more.” I needed her to cum before I could shove my cock into her. It was important.

The sudden tension of her thighs denounced the arrival of her orgasm, and where usually I’d love nothing more than to keep licking her, delighting myself with her taste and overstimulating her sweet body until she was crying, there was only so much I could take tonight.

“There you go,” I complimented when she easily succumbed to my directions, having turned her around and laid her with her stomach on the table, legs dangling off of it. “Want to feel me now, pretty girl? Want me to fill you now?”

Her answer was a whine as her hips searched for mine. She was offering herself to me, the innocent little thing. Didn’t know I’d take her regardless of it.

I had the instinct of slapping my hand over her mouth as I penetrated her, and so her moan came out muffled. I could still understand a breathless, “so good…” being uttered against my palm, and it only made me bite down on my lip harder, so my own sounds wouldn’t reverberate across the silent library.

It was a twisted kind of pleasure to hold her arms back as I fucked her roughly but as silently as possible, trying not to make the table squeak so it wouldn’t draw attention to us. Even though I didn’t particularly care if someone did find us - I wouldn’t stop fucking her if God himself tried to intervene -  I’d prefer to reach my goal without unwanted interferances.

So I was glad she didn’t seem to mind the fact that anyone could easily look our way and see us fucking. Had I really tempted her that much, that she would let me do whatever I wanted to her body, just as long as I fucked her?

Guess I was about to find out.

“Do you know how many times I masturbated in the back room, thinking about this sweet pussy?” I asked, voice raspy with desire as I kept jackhammering her as quietly as possible, but probably failing to do so in the midst of my arousal. “To think I finally have it now, wrapped around my dick…” My voice faltered as I realized all of my dreams were about to come true, right at that moment.

“Can’t wait to fuck my cum back into you, sweetheart. I’m gonna keep you so full from now on.” I felt her body tense underneath my fingers as she processed my words, but it was too late for her now. My hand still over her mouth, I stopped her from screaming or fighting me in any way.

“Just relax, honey. Doesn’t it feel so good?” I mocked, fucking her harder and harder as my control slipped from me. “It feels good for me, too. So now you’ll have to take it.”

Reaching around for her clit, I started rubbing it in quick little motions, desperate to feel her cunt clenching around me once more, milking my cum.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Cum again for me. Let me keep making you feel good as you do the same for me.” Her orgasm had her legs raising between mine, right when I started to spill inside of her, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. Once I was sure she wouldn’t scream, I took my hand away and pushed her back against the desk, massaging her ass eagerly, hoping it would take.

“You’ll look so good all round with my child.” Once I pulled my cock from her, I made sure to adjust her underwear so it would stop my cum from flowing, massaging the damp tissue with a smug expression.

She managed to turn around in my embrace, blinking confusedly, mouth opening and closing as if she couldn’t quite figure out what she wanted to say, and I cooed at her adorableness.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take good care of you and the little one.” I rubbed my hand over where she would soon grow, licking my lips at the mental image of her pregnant. God, why did that make me so hard?

“You can trust me,” I assured her, pulling her closer to I could kiss her forehead, before adjusting her body so it rested on mine. I knew there were tears rolling down her cheeks, but it was just from her coming down from the adrenaline high. She wanted this. She just needed to be able to think clearly to see just how perfect this would be. “We’ll be so happy together.”

[asterroidd]

fragment in time

↬ Reincarnation/Soulmate AU

—Wherein past lovers would always find each other in a different life.

↬ Pairing: Levi Ackerman/Reader

↬ Word count: 4.4k

↬ Synopsis: Perhaps in another lifetime, you and Levi would finally be together.

↬ not proofread, capn’ :’)

   The smell of blood wafted through the air. Screams of terror of fallen soldiers plagued your senses as man-eating-giants unhinged their jaws, their large teeth sinking down into the soft flesh of your comrades. Their blood splattered around, your terrified eyes watching each and every one in your squad being eaten alive by the titans.

   It was a simple mistake, an error created by the supposed messenger from the other squad of soldiers reporting in to inform you of the titan wreaking havoc amongst the lands to the west. You took them upon their word, heeding into the information, and as such steered the squad towards the east to avoid the chaos.

   But they were supposed to say east. East was where the giant beasts are.

   Which brings you back to today's scene, wherein you are badly injured—and perhaps internally bleeding—with an aberrant titan desolating your men.

   Biting down your cheeks, you groaned in pain as you adjusted yourself into a sitting position. Hands flying down to your stomach in attempts to stop the bleeding caused by a titan that caught you earlier.  You were in death's door—a foot in the grave you have dug yourself in ever since you signed up to be a soldier in the Survey Corps—ready to embrace the sweet release of death that would finally rid you of this hellish world. That is until one of your men saved you, slicing the fingers that are wrapped around your torso and harshly tossed you to the side and out of harm's way.

   You froze in horror, unable to recover your mental state after being a hair's width to cessation.

   "Lieutenant (____)! Take my horse and esca—" was their last words before the titan bit of their head. The beast looming over their figure, a sickening grin adorned their face as saliva trickled down its chin. It let out a small grunt of pleasure, gulping down the severed head of your comrade. Their lifeless body slowly slumped down until they fell with a thud against the grass. Dirt mixed with fresh blood dirtied their pristine white shirt they wore along with the Survey Corps uniform.

   You felt so useless. . .so powerless.

   The scene played inside your thoughts like a broken record playing in repeat. Over and over again. . .

   It was a nightmare much worse than those you have in your sleep. No. . . this is reality. This was actually happening right before your eyes. With a shaky hand, you brought it up to cup your cheek, smearing blood all over it as you lightly pinched yourself to confirm that you are actually awake and are not simply dreaming.

   You wanted to save your squad—your friends whom you trained and joked with back inside the walls. The very same people who were assigned to you by Erwin.  But you couldn't bring yourself to do it.

   Your body wouldn't budge.

   It was as if fate was tricking with you—letting time slow down for you to witness the horrific scene before you. You wanted to take a break, just a brief moment to recollect your thoughts and congregate yourself to fight back against the titans. You wanted to fight back; to slice the nape of the titan that killed most of your squad. But you find yourself unable to. Shoulders slumping down in defeat, eyes swimming with salty tears, and mouth so dry like those desserts Armin spoke of.

    As the titan's hands hover above, your life flashed before you. Recounting your most joyous moments from childhood to adulthood. Like that one time your mother gave you a hand-sewn doll for your birthday. Or when you got accepted to the Survey Corps despite your family's protests.

    You'll die a terrible death, they say. It's safer inside the walls.

    But you defied them, enlisting your name the moment it was announced that the military branch was recruiting a new set of soldiers for the next expedition happening in a few months. Your first time outside the walls was different.

    Instead of puking everywhere and shaking in your horse, you felt strangely calm and excited. Not only that but you also easily killed the titans coming your way. Which in return shocked the higher-ups and eventually gave you your own squad a few months later due to your pure skill.

    But perhaps the most memorable event in your life was meeting your fiance, Levi Ackerman. You met him a few years back—when he was still a fresh new recruit just like you. His skills with the 3d maneuver gear were no joke. The male looked so graceful whilst swinging from tree to tree. Moving as fast as sound as he sliced off the napes of giant beasts that dared come close to him.

    You idolized him at first—looking up to him in astonishment and hopes that one day, you would also possess the same prowess as him. Perhaps being on par with him in speed and killing titans was your goal. And so you set out to accomplish that ambition of yours; training every day until you pass out from exhaustion, harnessing your skills in hand-to-hand combat, and of course, improving your technique in using the 3d maneuver gear.

     That surely got his interest, because months later Levi started to acknowledge you more. Whether it was a simple nod and greeting when both of you passed each other in the hallways. Visiting you in your room when he knew a friend of yours died during the expedition. And of course, Levi bringing you tea to your office in the wee hours of the morning whilst you are drowning in piles and piles of paperwork.

    Before you knew it, you and he confessed to each other one night. You remembered it as clear as day. There were no clouds that moment, letting the moon shine brightly and provide light to the dimmest corners of the base. The stars were also out, glimmering in a rhythmic pattern that you grew to love.

    I think I have feelings for you. . .romantic ones, you first confessed to him. Your hands bawled up in a tight fist, your eyes screwed shut, and heart hammering against your chest in anticipation of his answer. Much to your delight, he reciprocated your feelings.

    That's good to hear, you swore there was a small smile. I feel the same way.

    You relish in the memories of you and Levi inside his office. Every activity with him makes your heart swell and heat rush to your face. Being with Levi makes you forget the horrors of the world offers and instead replace it with comfort and blissful moments. Whether it was a simple trip downtown, spontaneous cuddle sessions when no one was around, and of course the pleasure-filled occasions with him behind the closed door of his office.

    You treasured every moment inside your heart. And you would do whatever it takes to experience those once again.

    What you were going to do was obviously a suicide mission—you should've just taken a horse just like what your comrade said. But you are one stubborn one.

    Despite your body screaming in pain and agony, you won't die in vain. No, you'll stand up and fight back. Levi is expecting you to return back home intact and alive. You fired the hooks in a nearby tree, reeling yourself towards it before releasing it. There was a brief moment you're flying in the air. Everything was silent save for you hearing your own clamoring heartbeat against your rib cage. You've managed to escape in the nick of time, the titan's fists closing in the area where you once were. You could've died right then and there if it weren't for you acting quickly.

    Your eyes clouded with rage, you fired the hooks once again, only this time to the nape of the beast. In one fell swoop, its nape detached itself from the rest of the body.  A grunt escaped past your lips, an electric-like shot of pain coursed your veins. Air whistled past your ears as your velocity pushed you towards the side. Somehow in the process of killing the titan, its blood splattered on your face as well clothes.

    With immediate effect, mind you, as small wisps of smoke emerged from your clothes. A sign that the blood is vaporizing. You kept your eyes low, staring at the gaping mouth of the now-deceased beast. Within a few minutes, its once strong skin would disintegrate. Turning into piles of bones that, if given more time, would also fall apart. Like a bubble bursting into nothingness once in contact with air.

    You let out a small sigh of relief, letting your knees buckle and come in contact with the ground. It was a miracle that you could move despite your wounds.

    Though, you celebrated all too early.

    A shiver went down your spine as you heard the loud thumping behind. You whipped your head to the sound, eyes widening as a titan much bigger than the one you have killed was making its way towards you. Their mouth was stretched in an eerie smile, body covered with blood—with what you presumed was human's from another group of soldiers. Perhaps it heard the commotion and as such ventured towards the sound.

    "Shit. . ." you cursed, finally realizing that you were out of gas and the blades are dull. The horses, as you observed earlier, were injured and some ran away. Even the one your comrade left for you was long gone, nowhere to be seen.

    You imagined death so much it feels like a memory. Is this where it gets you? On your knees while the titan several feet ahead of you. You see it coming as clear as day, the surroundings a blur as you fixed attention on the beast. Do you run? Do you scream? Do you close your eyes and accept death? Though, you knew all too well that with your cracked ribs and injury, you wouldn't run as far.

    You chose the latter.

    Hands releasing the blades, you closed your eyes as you embraced the impending death.

    When the titan wrapped its fingers around your finger, you kept your mouth shut. Not even a scream escaping past. Your breath hitched, breathing in the godawful stench as the beast opened its mouth. Perhaps salivating at the thought of gnawing at your flesh.

    A choice with no regrets, that is what Levi said. True, you had a lot of regrets throughout your life, but you would never regret meeting him and enjoying every moment with him. Even if it was brief and shortcoming, you cherished it. Though, you truly did hope you would see his face once again. To relish under his touch. To hear his voice once more. Oh, how you wished you bid farewell before you take your final breath.

    You cried in pain as its teeth slowly sunk into your flesh, your lower half of the body bit by bit being detached from the rest. Tears streamed down your cheeks. This was finally it. The moment wherein you would take your last breath and leave this hellish reality.

    That is, until a strong gust of wind passed by.

    "(____)!!" you knew the voice all too well. It was Levi's.

    You opened your eyes, realizing now that the male had successfully killed the beast and is now carrying you in his arms. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising up and down vehemently. "You—" he started. Fear danced in his eyes, perhaps tears clouding his vision despite his attempts to keep it at bay. It was a rare sight to see Levi crying, usually, only a handful of people get to witness it. That said, you were always the one to comfort him in his darkest nights.

    Levi carefully set you down, letting you lay down on the grass. "Don't you dare close your eyes, (____)!!" he pleaded. Hands clasping your shoulder blades.

    "The others are coming this way—" he fought back a sob. "Just—just keep your eyes open long enough."

    But you and he knew all too well that the deep gash in your abdomen as a result of the titan sinking its teeth is far too severe to be treated. The damage has already been done, it would be magic if the medic could heal you. Still, Levi clung to that hope that you would survive. That you would be back in the walls with him just in time for the wedding to happen after the expedition.

    Levi was frantic. Unsure of what to do in seeing you in such a state he knew would be far-fetched to heal.

    A minute.

    He deduced that with your injury and blood continuously pouring out, you would still have a minute or two with him before you leave for good. Levi hated the thought of losing you. He blamed himself for letting you separate from him for this mission. So when he was informed that a titan wreaked havoc upon you and your squad, Levi did not think twice in changing directions in order to check up on you.

    If only he was fast enough. If only he could turn back the time so Levi could save you in the nick of time before the titan drilled its teeth unto your flesh. But he knew all too well that what has happened has already been done. So for one last time, he'll make sure that the time spent with you would leave no regrets.

    In contrast to him, love and mirth danced in your eyes, sparkling like a radiant summer sun glistening and being reflected on a puddle of water. Carefully and somewhat sluggish, you raised your hand to cup Levi's cheeks. Your thumb caressing his skin that you love oh so much.

    "I'm glad I could see your face one last time. . ." you murmured under your breath, too weak to raise your voice.

    Levi tightened his grip on your shoulders, this is it. The moment he'll lose another loved one yet again. "Save your energy. Don't you dare leave me," he spat.

    "Levi. . ." you chuckled despite the pain. "You and I both know that I wouldn't make it in time. . ."

    His broken expression made you wish this was all a dream.

    "So. . ." you trailed off. "Just hold my hand, please?"

   You blinked as black spots danced in her eyes. You were getting sleepy though ironically your body can't rest. The pain in your lower half was gone but when you tried moving, the pain emerged again. It somehow finds a way to wake you up. It was as if fate knew to keep you awake just to have one final moment with your beloved.

    Levi closed his eyes, finally accepting reality and abiding by your request. With shaky hands, he clasped yours quite harshly. He was not ready to lose you.

    "I'll see you in another time. . ." he slowly spoke. "We'll meet each other again and I'll find you."

    One tear slid down your cheek, "Yeah. . . See you."

   You woke up with a start, eyes flying open and you gasping for breath.

    The room was dark, save for the small light given by the sun which was shielded by the floral curtain. A blue vase etched with gold ethnic marks and aster flowers in it sat at the windowsill. The first thing you registered was the feeling of cotton against your skin and the dark surroundings of your room. Slowly, you moved into a sitting position, your body feeling light as if you are floating in thin air.

    That dream of yours had been reoccurring more often, plaguing your thoughts every night as you hit the haystack and welcome the sweet embrace of sleep—as if some outward forces want to tell you something.

    You were in a trance—fog clouding your brain as you recalled. Distantly, your fingers ran over the soft cotton blanket, you can't help but feel like you were forgetting something.

Something important.

    It was odd enough that giant naked men are desolating the lands; eating every human that comes across its way. But the thought of actually fighting it using a device far too technical for you to understand is what makes it absurd. That one particular scene keeps replaying over and over again when you sleep. You are confused—flabbergasted even. Though, it could only point to one answer.

    It was a hand maiden's tale. A story passed down from generation to generation that the person constantly reappearing in your dreams was your soulmate. Though you wanted to believe that, it was a slim chance that it could actually be true. For starters, you were not a superstitious person—you believed in facts and data instead of made-up tales by who knows who. Still, something deep inside you was screaming that the male in your dreams was your destined beloved.

   So as you strolled down the halls of the campus, you can’t help but let your thoughts drift off to the dream that incessantly appears at night. It was yet another day of you visiting the library to check if there are any new books added to the catalog. It may seem a nerd-ish move, but who could blame you? Thousands upon thousands of books right at your fingertips that you could easily access for free. Who wouldn’t want free books?

    The soft beep of the monitor lets you know that your ID card has been scanned and as such recorded that you have, yet again, visited the library. As you stepped inside the room, there are a couple of students slumped over the tables. Their laptops opened, notes sprawled out, and multiple pens scattered around. Despite the obvious studious set-up, half of them are on their phone or sleeping. Talk about slacking off.

    Shaking your head, you opted to walk straight into the fiction section where you spend most of your time scouring each shelf in search of a new adventure. Though, you halted momentarily as an unfamiliar figure came into view. They were searching for something—at least that is what you presumed given their furrowed eyebrows and the occasional curse underneath their breath.

   It is such a rare sight to see someone other than you in the fiction aisle. Mainly since most students would be in other sections searching for biographies, dissertations, and old literature stuff that would aid them in their studies. At first, you thought it was Arlert, the freshman you met a couple of months back when both of you happen to stumble upon each other. The male happens to be searching for a specific sci-fi book. Luckily, you had practically memorized each shelf in the fiction section. As such, you helped him find the novel he desires. Before you knew it, you and he had become close friends that would occasionally talk to each other about books both of you enjoy.

   But that isn’t the case this time. Armin’s iconic blond hair wasn’t in sight. Instead, onyx black in an undercut hairstyle is what greeted you. Wait a minute—he exactly looks like the male in your dreams.

   You stepped closer, quiet as to not disturb or startle him. When you got close to the figure, you concluded that, indeed, he is the male in your dreams; quite literally and figuratively.

   True, he is the exact spitting image of the male you’ve been seeing every night when you’re fast asleep. But also he is exactly your type; sharp jawline that could probably cut your finger, steel gray eyes that look oh so mysterious, and saints, the way you could see small veins on his pale hand drives you crazy.

   “Uhmm. . .do you need help?” you voiced out without thinking twice. You had to slap yourself internally when the male turned around to glare at you.

   He rose a brow, eyes trailing from head to toe as if questioning you what are you doing.

   “Ah—uhm. I didn’t mean to startle you but I am quite familiar with this section so maybe I could help you with what you are looking for.”

   The male narrowed his eyes at you, lips pressed into a thin line. Both of you shared silence, the distant hum of the air conditioner was the only thing you could hear. “What happened to Lori,” he abruptly spoke which perplexed you.

   “What. . ?”

   “I am looking for the second book of ‘What happened to Lori’. Do you know where that is?”

   Your mouth fell open in realization as to what he was pertaining to. It was the exact book that you bought a week ago after finding out that the library doesn’t have the second book to the duology. It was a hefty price, but all was worth it since the story is all too intriguing to be left behind in book one. You needed answers and a continuation, and as such bought the second book online.

   “The second book isn’t actually available. . .” you explained. The male cursed under his breath, something about the library being a useless piece of shit that was stupid enough to not buy the second book considering it was a duology.

   The very book he is looking for is inside your bag. Frankly, you only finished it halfway so you were not too sure if you want to let him borrow it. But, with one look at the male, you can’t help but be amazed at how he is the carbon copy of the person that keeps appearing in your dreams.

   You weren’t a superstitious person, but could this male be your soulmate?

   He was about to leave you, that is until you called out to him. “But I have the second book with me,” you stammered. If it means that you would get to see him again and perhaps know some answers, then you are more than willing to lend him your book. “You could borrow it if you want. . .?”

   The male looked at you from the corner of his eye, observing the way you fidget in your place and how you refused to look at him directly in the eye by continuously letting your gaze shift from book to book on the shelves.

   “If that’s fine with you, then sure.”

   With shaky hands, you frantically fished inside your bag in an attempt to look for the book. He was silent as you pulled out the said item and handed it over to him. The male, with astonishment dancing in his eyes, took the book from your hands and examined its cover and pages.

   “Have. . .have I seen you somewhere before?” you dared ask, eager to confirm if you were plain hallucinating or perhaps the soulmate-thing is indeed true. That, suppose, you also appear in his dreams every night. It was far-fetched, but you were ambitious to find out answers.

   The male let out one drained sigh, irritation washed over his features. “Look, if you are trying to hit on me then I’m not interested.”

   Wait, what? You weren’t—

   “I-I’m not!” you stammered, hands flailing around. “I just thought you look familiar.”

   He opened his mouth to respond but was cut short when the deafening clap of the thunder followed by a flash of light interrupted him. Both of you looked out the window to see the sky as black as tar, clouded by dark gray nimbus clouds as small drops of rain fell to the ground. Then it gradually got heavy all too soon.

   The color drained from your face as you realized that you forgot to bring an umbrella today. Not only that but you were totally unprepared for the sudden change in weather given that you were wearing a thin shirt.

   You bit your lip, brows curling up at the thought of shivering as you wait for the rain to dissipate. If anything, you totally despise the cold and how it makes your nose all runny and hair stand. Internally scolding yourself, you made a mental note to always check the weather update before going out of your dorm.

   “Tch. . .” the male clicked his tongue. “Here.”

   You were surprised to feel the soft fabric of his jacket draped over your shoulders, giving you warmth. Did he just—did he just gave you his jacket?

   “You’re shivering like a fucking wet dog,” he explained. “So wear that. . .”

   A flush crept up your face as the musky scent of his cologne with a hint of artificial fragrance from what you presumed is the smell of cleaning products wafted through your nose. You’ve got to say, this jacket of his truly is comfortable. With it being lined with cotton on the inside, the thick wool serving as a second layer for warmth, and the exquisite color combination of forest green and gold of the clothing. Slowly, you slipped your arms inside the sleeves and tucking your hands deep inside its pockets. Oddly enough, it fits you just well given—not too big nor small.

   The male turned on his heel, about to take his leave, again, without bidding you farewell. But you grabbed onto his sleeve just in time before he could leave the vicinity.

   “When—uhh—when can I return this?”

   He looked at you with a confused expression, as if asking if you are dumb or whatnot. “Isn’t that obvious?”

   “What I mean is, oh gods, I don’t have any ways to contact you whatsoev—“

   “So you want my number?”

   Someone please kill me right now, you whimpered.

    “What? No, I was ju—“

   “Yeah, yeah I get it. Hurry up and give me your phone,” the male pulled out his phone, expecting you to do the same.

   The audacity of this guy. He has to be a lady’s man or whatever to be this haughty.

   With a shaky breath, you and him both exchange numbers. Mind in a frenzy at the thought of seeing him again and perhaps that wouldn’t be the last time.

   “Uhmm. . .So I guess I’ll return the jacket to you once you’ve finished the book. . .?”

   Ah, there is that feeling again that keeps pestering you—a thought on the back of your mind.

   "Yeah, I'll give the book back to you eventually," he spoke. "I'll see you in another time. . ."

   "Yeah. . .” you breathed, calming yourself to prevent blood rushing to your cheeks. “See you.”

   A hunch that you have already met him in the past; a fragment in time.

part 2 (?)

[voiceless-terror]

And Many Happy Returns

a sequel (or companion piece) to Inseparable, my childhood friends AU. chapter 1 of 2.

“Next week?” Jon shrieks, slamming a hand down on his desk and startling the nearby students. “That’s not nearly enough time to prepare!”

Martin does that blinky-eye thing that means Jon’s being too loud, but he can’t help it! Martin’s turning eight in six days (less than a week!) and didn’t think to tell him. They’re best friends, he should know these things. He curses himself for not asking about this at the beginning of their relationship, when he was collecting Martin facts. Favorite color and book seemed more important at the time. 

And while Jon doesn’t think birthdays are that important, it’s still a fact he ought to have known. Well, his Nan doesn’t consider birthdays important. These past two birthdays he’s gotten one new (!) book and a dessert after dinner, but that’s about it. Nan doesn’t have money to spend on frivolous things, and Jon’s never needed much, but he wouldn’t mind a bit of fanfare. His mum always made sure he felt very loved- he got plenty of hugs, a fun cake, an outing where they would do his favorite things. But maybe that’s something only mums do. Nan, with her rare, stiff hugs and general stand-offishness was never one to put up much of a fuss.

“It’s not that big a deal,” Martin mutters, his pencil twitching in his hand as he refuses to meet Jon’s eyes. He doesn’t like it when Jon starts fretting about him. “We never do anything for it, anyway.”

Martin’s mum isn’t anything like Jon’s, that’s for sure. It’s not every day you turn eight. It’s a nice number, very even and divisible. Much better than boring old seven. When Jon turns eight, he’s going to get fifteen extra minutes added to his curfew, and he’ll be able to walk to the corner store all by himself. He’s already walked there several times, but it’ll be nice to have permission. That’s the real treat.

“So you’re not going to bring in cupcakes for the class?” he asks, remembering the last birthday they celebrated- it was Lydia’s, a quiet, unassuming girl that Jon doesn’t mind but also doesn’t think much about. As soon as Jon asks it, Martin gets that sad look in his eyes again, the kind that’s always followed by an “I’m sorry” or something equally nonsensical. Jon hates that he’s the cause of it, him and his stupid mouth. Think before you speak, that’s what Nan always says. She says that for most anything he talks about, though, so he takes her advice with a grain of salt.

He reaches out to pat Martin’s arm consolingly, giving him his best sympathetic head tilt. “It’s alright. I’ve never brought any in either. Just thought I’d check in case you needed help bringing them to school.” Jon’s not very good at carrying things, but for Martin he would make an attempt.

“That’s nice of you,” Martin replies, though it’s not really nice, it’s just a normal thing a friend would do. Jon’s read books about it, he ought to know. “But yeah. I don’t think Mum’s planning anything, much less making cupcakes. She’s really busy.” Martin’s always saying how busy his Mum is, but Jon’s pretty sure she doesn’t do half the things around the house that she’s supposed to. Martin already knows how to cook and make tea and do the laundry without hurting himself. It’s very admirable. The last time Jon attempted to do laundry, he flooded the cellar.

“Do you like cupcakes, though?” Jon asks, scooching closer to Martin’s desk. “Lydia’s mum brought some for her birthday, but they were all carrot cake. Blegh.” He makes an exaggerated face to get Martin to laugh. It works.

“Carrot cake’s not so bad,” Martin says, poking lightly at Jon’s hand with the eraser of his pencil. Jon flinches back dramatically, putting on his most wounded look. “You just don’t like it cause it has the word carrot in it.”

“I don’t like it cause it has actual carrots in it,” Jon sniffs, turning away from Martin to show his displeasure. He decides not to talk to him for the rest of the day, or at least until he has something else to say to him. He’s got a lot on his mind now, and he needs to be left alone with his thoughts. Besides, Martin will poke him again once he gets bored enough. 

Jon flips open the school planner that he’s never used for actual school work and starts to write. He’s got a birthday to plan, and he’s going to give Martin a Mrs. Sims birthday special.

______

It’s a Thursday, which means Martin can’t play on account of his many, many chores. Jon hates Thursdays.

But this time it works in his favor, as he’ll actually have time to plan without Martin thinking something’s up. Jon very rarely cancels on Martin; he’s his most important (and only) friend. But he does on occasion get a little mixed up. One time, he thought it was a Wednesday instead of Thursday, and wound up at Martin’s flat when he didn’t show up at the park. Martin was very nice about it, though, and gave him a cup of tea to ‘calm down’ to drink in the hallway, before he went home. Martin thinks a cup of tea is calming. It doesn’t really do much for Jon, but it is tasty, and Martin gives him extra sugar just the way he likes.

But today is most definitely a Thursday so he scurries on home, slamming the door open and screaming a greeting to Nan that goes unanswered.  She must be off at the shops, otherwise she’d be giving Jon an earful for being too loud. He kicks off his shoes and gazes at the picture of him and his mum on the wall. If his mum were here, she would know exactly what to do to make Martin’s birthday extra-special. But she’s not, and Martin’s mum seems like kind of a jerk, so it’s Jon’s responsibility. “I won’t let you down,” he solemnly tells her smiling face, and turns to take the steps two at a time.

After grabbing his planner and throwing his backpack into the corner,  he pulls out the chair to his messy homework desk, which is usually only used for doodling or writing stories or reading when he wants the activity to feel more official. He flips open his planner to next Wednesday, Martin’s birthday (!!!) and taps his pen impatiently against the page. 

What do birthdays need? Food. Presents. Happiness. The first two might be a bit difficult to pull off, considering his lack of money and cooking skills. Martin deserves a lot more than stale discount biscuits from the grocery. He can get those any day.

But a whole cake is going to be hard. If Nan won’t make one for Jon on his birthday, she most certainly won’t do it for ‘his little friend,’ even if she thinks he’s a good influence. Martin is always very quiet and polite when he sees her, and Nan always gives him a smile in return for his good manners. She doesn’t smile at Jon like that. He tamps down his jealousy and gets back to birthday thoughts.

He thinks he had a purple- or was it pink? - cake on his fifth. It saddens him that he can’t remember. He thinks he’d forget his own mother’s face if he didn’t look at it every morning and night. Memory’s fickle like that, as his Nan likes to say.

Maybe, if he’s very nice and good tonight, Nan will take him with her on the weekly shop and he can convince her to get Martin a cupcake, a good one. One that doesn’t have any carrots in it, even if Martin says they’re alright. He must like them so much because they’re orange, like his hair. Unsurprising. 

He stops wiggling in his chair and straightens his back, as if Nan can see him in his room right now. It’s good to practice, he thinks. If he can sit still all through dinner and not make a mess, she’ll come round. 

Next, an essential part of any birthday: a good present.

His mum never really showered him with gifts, but she always gave him something good, something from the heart. The last present he received - Augustus, an orange cat plushie- still sits on his bed. It’s kind of babyish to sleep with a stuffed animal at his age (or so Marcus declared during recess one day) but Jon doesn’t really care. It helps him sleep.

Unfortunately, Jon can’t buy Martin a stuffed cat. He doesn’t have much money except for what he’s found on the ground and in sofa cushions. And he’s supposed to give that to Nan if he finds it (which he does, mostly).

He could be creative. Make him something. Jon’s not very good at crafts, though. And he doesn’t have a lot of supplies. But he has almost a week to figure something out, minus the times he’s playing with Martin. Well, even then he can stare at him and hope it jogs a good idea.

Lastly, he’s got to make it the happiest, most special day he can. Martin should feel special all the time, but Jon knows how hard that is, especially when you go home and you’re lonely and it seems like you’re the least special person there is. But if Jon is very nice to him and makes the day as fun as possible, maybe he’ll be able to keep that happiness all night, even when Jon leaves. 

That’ll be the hardest part, Jon thinks. He’s not the type of person to make someone happy. Sigh in aggravation, maybe. Roll their eyes. But Martin does neither of those things, so Jon might have a chance. He’ll try and ‘tone it down,’ though. His Jon-ness can be too much at times, and he doesn’t want that to get in the way of what should be Martin’s day.

Everything’s going to be perfect. 

________

And then it’s Saturday, and Jon still doesn’t have a present for Martin. 

He somehow managed to get Nan to agree to the cupcake bit- he’d asked very politely, ate all of his dinner and didn’t spill a thing. Though he thinks it has more to do with her liking Martin. She always acts surprised when she sees him over, like she’s shocked Jon kept a friend for longer than a week. He’s not that bad. But Tuesday she promised to take him to the grocery with her, so it’s fine. One part of his plan is done.

But the present. 

Actually buying something is clearly out of the question- he already exhausted his Nan’s good will in that department. And Jon, for all his usual creativity, is plum out of ideas. He could give him one of his books, but he does that already without prompting. He doesn’t have any good toys, and Martin certainly isn’t getting his best pen, the one that glides real smoothly on the page.

“Are you alright?”

He’s been staring at Martin too long. “Of course,” Jon snaps. “I just like your shirt today, that’s all.”

Martin looks down at his worn t-shirt. It’s not Jon’s favorite, but it’s Martin’s, so he likes it. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.”

They’re out in the woods behind Mr. Fletchley’s house to investigate what Jon thought was an ancient ruin but just turned out to be a couple of crumbling cinder blocks. It was an incredibly disappointing find, but Martin wasn’t discouraged.

“We don’t know where they came from, or why someone dumped them here,” he reasoned, a hand on Jon’s shoulder. “What if they were stolen? What if they’re part of a...a crime, or something?”

Jon doesn’t know what crime would need a cinder block, but he intends to find out. They’ve been walking down the relatively short path (it’s not so much woods as it is a cluster of trees) and haven’t seen anything suspicious, besides a few empty wrappers and a particularly sharp stick that Jon’s been whacking against the ground. He thinks it could’ve been used as a weapon.

“What are you going to do when you’re eight?” he asks, nudging Martin in the side. He hasn’t mentioned his birthday since the first time, so he’ll be in for a real treat come Wednesday. Jon just hopes he can think of something good in time.

“Mm, I don’t know.” Martin slows down to a mosey, and Jon tries to match his strides no matter how much he wants to jump ahead. Martin’s a real ‘slow down and sniff the flowers’ type of guy. Jon’s more of a ‘run ahead and accidentally trample them’ type. “Probably the same as I’m doing now. It’s not like it’s an important age. I can’t drive or anything like that.”

“It’s a very important age!” Jon insists, though he doesn’t have much to back that up. He’s mostly just excited because it’s Martin’s very first birthday with him. “You should look forward to something.”

“I dunno, I don’t want anything to change,” Martin says, his face going a little red as he stares at the ground. “I’d just like to spend more time with you. Have fun. That kind of stuff.”

Jon blinks. “We do that now, though.”

“Yeah. It’s the best.” Martin gives him a toothy grin, the kind that Jon puts away and thinks about later when he’s at dinner with Nan or getting ready in the morning. People don’t smile at him like that, only Martin. He does it all the time when Jon tells him a good joke, or shares his food, or passes him a particularly funny doodle.

And now Jon’s got the perfect idea for a present.

part 2

[thedeathdoctor]

Kinktober Days 2, 3, and 4: Aphrodisiac, Thigh Riding, and Size Difference

Friday the 13th: Jason x Reader

Forbidden Nectar

Aka: sometimes you celebrate your actual 21st birthday by chilling in the woods behind your house with a Yeti tumbler full of Sangria and end up getting the best dick of your life by your local thicc stalker/slasher 

~Under the cut below~

You weren’t like the other girls, no matter how hard you tried. For you, high school had come and gone in the blink of an eye, and yet some of it still lingered in your mind. College was a chance to reinvent yourself, join in with a group of friends where you could grow into being a satisfied, competent woman. There, to some extent, you did. 

Joining a sorority was one of the few sporadic things you tried that managed to stick with you. During Fall Recruitment freshman year, you fell in love with Greek Life on campus, rushed, and accepted the invitation one of the sororities extended to you. Fundraising and outreach activities were your favorite; you had grown up with a passion for helping others, from Girl Scouts to food drives through your high school, you showed up for them all. However, you could never shake the nagging thoughts in the back of your mind, thoughts that insisted that the people around you didn’t like you as much as they seemed. 

Summers home felt especially isolating when you returned home for the break. You loved your parents and of course missed your dogs, but the difference between your busy college town campus and Yeehaw, New Jersey was like night and day. It took a few days to readjust to the change in pace when you returned. Time had a really funny way of standing still in Crystal Lake while you went to school for a whole nine months of the year. The same pickup truck stood watch over the corner store by your house as long as you could remember. At school, the surrounding towns seemed to be able to move entire roads around over break, leaving you reluctantly reliant on Google Maps to find the same pizza place you visited just four months ago. 

Crystal Lake’s lack of excitement and stimulation was good for recollecting your thoughts and having a place to just breathe. Happiness was found through the routine of everyday life and simple pleasures, like trading excess garden vegetables with family friends in town. You knew nearly everyone, and it warmed you when people would call out your name to wave hello. 

It wasn’t paradise though. Most of your tiny high school graduating class had stayed, trying to fill the few remaining positions at local businesses, while others yoked themselves to jobs in the next town over, the one that had a smattering of chain restaurants and a ghostly outlet mall. They all still had to drive places, and since Bill had passed, your parents were the sole auto mechanics in town. Crystal Lake was never a popular vacation spot, but several families routinely returned to their modest summer homes on the north shore, propping up the dwindling town. You helped around in the shop, freeing up your pa to tow cars when needed. Visitors tended to arrive in vehicles that were not as durable as promised, but that wasn’t their fault. 

“After all,” he would say, “people know when they fucked up. A lecture ain’t gon’ get them back on the road, but a hand up might.” 

He had never attempted college, nor did he want to, but you were surprised to find him more knowledgeable than some people you ran into on campus. Nothing incensed you more than snooty, middle-class students who widely looked down on “stupid hicks” like your father, as if they had the same opportunities out here and in suburbia. They didn’t know that they, too, were just one unexpected economic crisis away from being in the exact same situation, and you had long since stopped trying to change their minds.

The garage popped up first at the front of the property, closest to the road, and a private driveway led around a corner to the house. Your grandpa, Leon, had built the shop in the 40s with his pa, and ran it with a buddy of his. Grandma Susan had insisted it be built away from the house, as she “couldn’t get her beauty sleep with all that racket.” They had planted several saplings at the back, which had since grown into a beautiful row of oaks that mercifully shielded the house from the cacophony of power tools.

Gravel crunched under the truck’s tires as you turned into the driveway and pulled up behind the shop. A voice called out from the rear arch of the building, weary, but relieved. Matt, your older brother walked out, partially blinded by the patch of 2:00 sunlight though the canopy. You laughed as he shielded his eyes with one hand; the backwards baseball cap was as essential to his uniform as the filthy grey-blue jumpsuit was, but a pair of cheap wraparound sunglasses hung onto the collar swung with his every step, forgotten. 

“Hey Matt, catch!” 

Resting the paper bag of groceries on your hip, you swung the door of the Ranger closed and tossed the keys to your brother. 

“Mom needs these for dinner tonight, so I gotta take this in.” You gestured at the bag you had shifted into both arms. “Everything should be there, but the timing belts. Frank said they were on back order or something; should be back about Tuesday though!” Matt shrugged, after all, what could you do about absent parts. 

Patches of sunlight lit the driveway as you walked up towards the house. June was one of your favorite months here, where it was warm even in the shade of the woods, but the sun wouldn’t cook you alive if you were outside for too long. The front door was already unlocked, and two whirlwinds of fluff came barrelling through the door at your knees, and you steadied yourself against the doorframe. Jack and Willow were the two homebody dogs, greeting everyone who walked through the door with the same excitement every time. 

The smell of apples and sugar permeated the entire house, and you found a beautifully latticed pie cooling on the countertop as you set the grocery bag down. Taking the groceries out and laying them on the counter, you tore the paper bag in two and tossed the pieces at your pups. The click-click-click of their paws ended as they took the paper into the carpeted family room and began to shred them methodically. 

Following them, you found ma in the family room with them, curled up on the couch with her favorite book and a knit blanket. The curtains were half drawn, and her hearing aids lay on the side table underneath the dimmed lamp. Looking up from the worn cover, she smiled. “Thank you for running to the store for me, dear. I could have sworn I remembered everything for your birthday dinner tonight, but now I do. I know your pa gave you today off for your birthday, so I just need you back here ‘round six - six thirty to eat.” You responded by tapping your fingertips against your chin as you signed “thank you,” before raising your left and fluttering your “I love you” towards her before leaving. 

The screen door snapped at your heels as you walked through the back door. Past the wood shed, a long picnic table stretched out under a large oak. Nearing it, you took note of the excessive bird droppings and maddeningly long grass underneath that would absolutely tickle your calves. A mental note was made in your head to clean it down another day, and you meandered over to the edge of the woods. 

As you walked around, the thought occurred to you that you had never had any real desire to explore your own backyard more. As a child, you spent more time in town, around people, reaching out. Now, you just felt more of a yearning to connect with the home and land you grew up on. 

Twenty one was an important birthday, but just like all the ones before, this one felt more like an extended weekend here. Your friends had planned to celebrate, but that wouldn’t be until your trip to Colorado in mid-July. For now, you had the afternoon to yourself and a bottle of sangria that Catie had given you as you were packing for home. 

You returned to the house and took your half filled outdoors pack, poured some of the sangria into an empty green Thermos, and added it to the bag of stuff. A small access trail led from the edge of the backyard into the woods, and you set off. 

The trail forked at several junctions, every one of them marked with small colored dots spray painted on major trees. It was easier than having to upkeep sign markers as not many people needed to or even really went back here. Blue led down to the kayaks and the lake access, and you remembered racing Matt down the path to the dock as a child. Green led up the hill to the tree fort that Mark, your younger brother, and his friends had built with pa one weekend, back when you could still rest your elbow on his head if he stood still for long enough. Red led to the family plot, more occupied by well loved family pets than ancestors, thankfully. The path headed back to the house was better marked, dirty yellow hi-vis tags nailed to the trees in case you didn’t get back before dark. 

Further than that, you didn’t really know what lay beyond. You had never really wondered about it before, something that boggled your mind as you pressed forward. The trail became increasingly overgrown, and you were close to pulling out the brush machete that was in the pack, before you spotted a clearing up ahead. Brambles scraped along your calves as you tried to step over them and your thighs as you tried to skirt past a larger cluster. 

The clearing seemed to be an old campsite. A rusting fire pit sat near the center of the clearing; towards the left edge of the woods, and the remains of a small collapsed pavilion covered three or four rotting picnic tables. Rays of sunlight streamed down onto a relatively smooth patch of earth, as perfect a place as any to sit. 

Setting the bag down against the ground, you pulled out the rough, thick canvas blanket and shook it open. It covered enough of the ground for you to lay out with the Thermos and the book you were working on. It was a steamy romance novel, one of your truly guilty pleasures. The sangria, though sweet, left you feeling floatier than usual; you were so into the book that you practically breathed in every word off the page, and out here, you didn’t have to hide the blush across your cheeks. 

How you wished to come across a strong, kind man like that. The ones you had had the displeasure of meeting ranged from arrogant and abrasive to paranoid and reactionary. All they seemed to want was control, over her friends, her choices, her. No one lasted longer than a few careless hookups; they never seemed to care about your pleasure. They disliked how much time you spent volunteering, with friends, and studying. On the inside, you would give up everything in your life for the right person, but after meeting enough people, you didn’t believe anyone like that existed. 

You were so wrapped up in your fantasies that you didn’t notice the man watching you from the treeline. His hand rested on the handle of a sheathed machete that hung from the faded leather work belt at his waist. He had seen plenty of dumb teenagers desecrating the forest that was his home, but you weren’t doing anything close to that. You lay outstretched on a blanket, peaceful, enjoying the beauty of the clearing. Your feet slowly kicked back and forth in the air, flexing your thighs and calves. Every so often, your gaze would float off the page, looking past the book you held; he wondered what you were admiring so passionately. 

A ray of sunlight glinted off your hair, illuminating the golden streaks that were typically hidden. The blush across your face captured his attention, and your wistful eyes drew him in to you. To him, you were the epitome of beauty and purity, a sight both new and refreshing in these woods. A strange feeling wound through his body and settled in his groin. It demanded attention, and he pulled at the crotch of his pants, trying to alleviate the tightness there. 

When he returned his gaze to you, he found himself standing closer to you than before, no longer hidden by the brush. To his horror, he watched as you looked up from your novel, and noticed him standing there, hand still over his pants zipper. 

“Hi there,” you called out, “would you come sit with me? I swear I don’t bite…”

He was transfixed by the sound of your voice, how it cleared his mind of all thoughts of destruction and shame, and stepped closer. Surely, you would find him strange for wearing a mask, or for his marred skin, but you did not flinch as he approached. 

Despite your offering of space on the blanket beside you, he instead chose to sit on the very edge of it. Were it not for his dirty hockey mask, you would have bridged the gap between you two with a kiss. You offered him a smile, and showed him the book you were reading. The cover depicted a pretty woman swooning in the arms of a large, rugged man. Between the blush on your face as you held the book, and your eyes looking earnestly up at you, he realized what the feeling in his body was. He needed to please you. 

Shifting on the ground, he stretched out his legs, spreading them slightly. The tent that formed in his pants caught your attention; you rose to your knees and moved closer to him. That wasn't enough for him. His large hands wrapped around your waist and pulled you towards him, setting you down on his thigh. 

You placed your hands gently against his upper chest and settled on his thigh. Even through the fabric of your shorts and panties, he could feel the heat radiating from your sex. You gave off a distinctly sweet scent that filled his head with a light airiness. 

His thigh pressed nicely up against your clit and his hands slid down the sides of your waist to your full hips, and began to gently rock you back and forth. You leaned into the motion, slightly arching your back to tilt your hips into the sweet friction, and your forearms steadied you against his chest. It was broad and soft, and you gasped as you felt the firm muscles hidden underneath. He had picked you up without a hint of strain, as if you were just a soft little toy. 

Maybe it was the arousal bubbling in you already from the book and the drink, but you came so easily on his thigh, soaking through the fabric of your shorts. The rocking slowed to a stop as he felt your body shudder involuntarily and your juices seeped through his pants leg. 

Adrift in bliss, you barely noticed him undressing everything but his mask. You slipped your shirt off, and had hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your shorts when you noticed him staring at you. Slowly, he tilted his head, and you felt his eyes roam your body, giving you pause. Then, with an incredible amount of ease, he stripped you nude, tearing first the cotton of your shorts, then the delicate lace of your panties off your body. Before you could react, he had set you back down on his leg, sweet nectar drooling from your lower lips onto the cool skin of his thigh. 

His hands kneaded your hips as he began to move you again, enjoying how your soft flesh yielded to his touch. You leaned against him, pressing your bare chest to his, which earned you a low hum from underneath his mask. Your hands roamed over his shoulders, feeling the swell of his muscles under your palms. Something jutted firmly against your own thigh with each movement. The shape was unmistakable, but you had never encountered one of this size before. It filled you with incredulity, and the thrill of taking it entirely overpowered any apprehension in your mind about whether you could. Once the thought had occurred to you, it pushed you over the edge again, your fingernails curling into his skin for support. Your breath ghosted over his chest as you sighed gratuitously, partly involuntarily, partly to rouse him further. 

It was successful, as he leaned back, taking you with him until you rested entirely on him, your stomach flush with his. His hands roved down your back, settling on your buttocks, massaging them gently. They were capable of doing anything they wanted to you, even hurting you, but their power had been tightly controlled. Carnal hunger swelled within you, driving you to seek more from him. 

You straddled his hips, feeling your inner thigh muscles stretch until your knees came to rest lightly against the ground. His hands wrapped around the back of your thighs, one holding you firmly as the other slid between them. His middle finger traced down your vulva and paused at your clit, rubbing until he felt your body shiver and your warm fluids on his fingertip.. Your insides ached to be filled, and with only a breathy "please", his touch crept up towards your entrance. Slowly, he pushed the digit into you, eliciting a gasp of pleasure and surprise at its thickness. It shifted inside you as he repositioned his arm, and you only had a moment to realize it before your heightened sensitivity sent you spiraling into another orgasm. 

Feeling you from the inside excited him; his chest heaved as he let out a deep growl of approval. You rested your head on his pectoral muscle, unable to form coherent thoughts as his finger plunged into you, accompanied by distinctly lewd squishing sounds. He worked with the intention of readying you for his cock, slipping in a second finger, then a third as you focused on relaxing your internal muscles. 

His fingers slipped out of you, leaving you startlingly empty for a moment before he shifted you lower on his body. The head of his cock nestled itself between your lower lips. Its presence nearly made your heart leap out of your chest. Finally, it was time. 

The tip pressed firmly against you and you gasped as your body yielded to his, granting entry to the bulbous, dripping head of his second machete. His hands returned to your hips, holding them firmly as he eased his way into you. When it felt as if you could not take anymore, he would slightly pull back before pushing further in. The movement was similar to the rocking motion he had guided you through earlier, continuing until you had taken him to the hilt. 

He let you rest for a moment as you stretched to accommodate his intense girth. When you determined you were ready, half whimpered, half begged, “take me now”. 

His shaft curved upward, and with each movement pressed against the sweet spot just underneath your tummy. The pulsing veins added further stimulation with each thrust, teasing your sensitive walls with its texture. Heavy panting became audible from behind your lover’s mask. Even he wasn’t immune to the intensity of base pleasure you gave him. You had broken his stoic demeanor, and reveled in his guttural moans as he thrust into you. 

A pulsing knot began to form in your core as he pounded away at you, hips slapping smartly against yours. Desperately, you fought to hold off your orgasm as long as you could, but there were no other thoughts in your mind to cling to as a distraction. His cock was punishing, mercilessly bringing you to orgasm, showing no signs of slowing. Your body twitched and shook; his firm hands on your hips ensured his complete control over you, preventing you from shying away from the stimulation he was hellbent on giving you. Letting your mouth drop open and eyes flutter, you surrendered all control to him. 

His breaths grew ragged, heavier, as he felt his own orgasm building up in him. You squeezed him so perfectly, and he reveled in the feeling as you pulsated effortlessly around his shaft. He pulled you down onto him as he gave one last, powerful thrust into you that left you gasping for air. Thick spurts of ejaculate coated the entrance of your uterus, filling you until you were overflowing. His cum mixed with yours, the fluid drooling from between your lips, pooling between your bodies. Your head rested and settled against his chest; for a few remaining moments, your fingertip lazily traced hearts onto his skin as you drifted off into the haze of sleep. 

[winterscaptain]

immovable object.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: happy birthday aaron hotchner!! here’s a little something i cooked up, just for y’all who wanted to see something from aaron’s point of view. i figured a birthday would be as good a time as any to share a little bit of aaron’s head, even if it’s not his (actual) age this year. as always, i love to hear what you think! takes place au!november 2018

words: 2.3k warnings: language, implication of sex, light drinking/alcohol use

summary: “the years between fifty and seventy are the hardest. you are always being asked to do things, and yet you are not decrepit enough to turn them down.” - t.s. elliot

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!

Fifty. 

Aaron wasn’t sure where he’d be by fifty. He’d only had loose examples over the course of his life, as his father kicked it before he got to that point. But then again…

His father never appreciated what he had. Two sons, different to the point of extremity, a wife who loved him even through all his (many) shortcomings, and a big house in northern Virginia that he could afford with his very plush salary working on The Hill as a prosecutor. Nevertheless, he drank himself to death at forty-seven. 

So…

Where am I at fifty? 

He looks down into his lap, finding Caroline tucked into the crook of his elbow with a hand in her mouth while they sit in his armchair. She’s teething now, but she isn’t half as unbearable about it as Isaac. 

Isaac. 

Aaron scans the room, finding his son with Spencer and Hank at the formal dining room table. Spence has them both in his lap and reads aloud from whatever Russian novel he’s flying through. As Aaron listens closer, he realizes Spencer is translating as he goes, reading the book in English. 

Tolstoy should be fine for toddlers...right?

Another scan sends him to you, sitting on the floor with a bottle and a spit-up rag, Sophia snarfing down her afternoon snack like it’s her job. 

You find his eyes, double-taking a little. What?

Nothing. Aaron’s mouth presses into an amused little line. 

With a fond roll of your eyes, you turn back into the conversation with Sean and Derek. 

And that’s another thing. 

Aaron never expected to really have his brother in his life as an adult. To his surprise, it's a rather pleasant change of circumstance. Once he moved out of New York and back to Virginia, Sean really got his act together. The arrival of his second nephew didn’t hurt. At your behest, Aaron called him in Isaac’s first weeks, inviting him over to meet the new addition. He feels silly now, for starting a spat with you about it in the moment. It’s not easy, but it’s good. 

He’s the first one to admit that you did most of the heavy lifting, leveraging your similar age and propensity to draw flocks of the struggling and confused. 

Your Honor, I’d like to present Exhibit A in regard to struggling and confused - Aaron Benjamin Hotchner - before the court. 

He laughs down his nose at his own train of thought. Caroline fusses, but once she’s sitting up in his lap, one of his hands across the entirety of her chest and little belly, she’s happy. 

Will she continue to insist on seeing everything? Will she always be so quiet? 

There’s something about Caroline’s eyes, even as they continue to settle into their permanent color, that is inherently wise. He knows, logically, that Caroline and Sophia are near-identical, but neither of you have ever had any trouble telling them apart. 

If someone asked, he wouldn’t be able to articulate the differences. He just knows. 

Aaron almost startles when you appear at his side, Sophia freshly burped and smooshed against your shoulder. 

“You look pensive.” It’s a gentle accusation. 

Aaron snorts. “It’s my birthday. I’m allowed to be pensive.” He holds Caroline up for a minute and you accept the invitation, planting yourself in his lap. Sophia’s still in your arms, so it’s a bit crowded, but nevertheless, you swing your legs over the arm of the chair and melt against Aaron’s chest. 

The girls, of course, are delighted to see each other and make a happy, babbling pair sitting on your abdomen and thighs, watching all the action in the living room. 

Aaron presses a kiss to your head and just for another second wonders how he got so lucky. 

“Hey. Quit.”

He looks down, meeting your eyes. “What?”

You look at him, soft and affectionate. “You’ll never stop, will you?” 

“Probably not.” He adjusts again so he can cradle you in his arm while he keeps the girls stable with his free hand. “But that’s why I’ve got you.” 

“Unstoppable force meets immovable object?”

Aaron squints, making play at thinking. “Wasn’t that on our wedding announcements?” 

You huff a laugh and pat his chest twice. “Maybe it should have been.” 

Realistically, he knows he should be out socializing with everyone there to celebrate him and the fifty years he’s lived (only a couple of them in dog years), but he can’t bring himself to care. His cheek rests against your head, his fingers tracing patterns on your arm. Caroline has the other one of his hands, playing with his fingers (and putting those in her mouth, too) while Sophia sits back against him, threatening sleep. 

But really, nobody minds. They’re all having too much fun off the clock, with children of their own. Derek and Savannah lounge in the rec room, watching Tara, Sean, Will, Jack, and Henry play Mario Kart. Not far off is Kristy, wiping illicit frosting off her oldest son’s cheek before he rejoins the boys on the makeshift tournament arena. 

Matt, Dave, and Emily are gathered around the kitchen island, their wine glasses never far from their hands. JJ flits between the groups, her puttering instincts inescapable even outside of her domain. 

Luke and Penelope pretend they aren’t following each other from room to room, activity to activity. They are horrible actors, and Aaron wonders if the kid will ever pluck up the guts to do something about it. 

You didn’t. 

That doesn’t count. 

Yes, it does. 

JJ finally comes to rest beside Emily, propping herself up by her elbows as she sits backward on one of the barstools. “I’d never thought I’d see Hotch so happy.” 

Emily looks over her shoulder. What does she see?

She sees a man she’s known her entire career at the bureau, a man who hand-picked her to replace him when it was time for him to leave his post as unit chief, a man who lost almost everything and somehow found it again. 

She watches as Aaron says something to you, a wicked kind of humorous glint in his eye. She watches as you let out a loud laugh, accidentally startling your daughters in your lap. She watches as the girls process and pick up on their mother’s joy and start to shriek and clap. 

She watches Aaron live. 

“I dunno,” Emily says, finally. “I always thought those two might make it if they faced themselves.”

JJ humphs in the irony of it. “That’s a lot to ask.” 

“And yet -”

“- Somehow, they’ve managed.” JJ looks to her own family just in time to see Will taking advantage of the high ceiling, throwing Michael into the air and catching him. “It’s kind of funny, how things work out.” 

“I can’t believe he’s fifty.” Emily’s non-sequitur drops into JJ’s thoughts, which were rapidly devolving into the abstract. “It doesn’t seem right.” 

Dave taps Emily on the shoulder, reminding her he’s been there the whole time. “You’re in your late forties, I might remind you.” 

A kind of dissatisfied noise leaves her throat. “Thanks.” She turns, looking at him with a glare that could cut glass, but all in play. “Thanks for that.” 

“Just doing my civic duty.” 

Emily rolls her eyes and stands, wandering farther into the kitchen to pilfer a bag of animal crackers from the snack drawer. 

“Alright!” Penelope calls from the kitchen archway. “It’s time for cake!” 

That gets the attention of all the children in the vicinity who have experienced the unadulterated joy of Aunt Penelope’s buttercream frosting. 

Aaron tolerates the attention as you and the girls get shuffled (or in your case, shuffle yourself) off his lap. Emily takes Caroline while Savannah has Sophia. A quick glance finds Isaac on Dave's hip. With a little bit of a start, he realizes just how big his family is. They’re all here. 

For each other. 

For him. 

Soon enough, Penelope brings the cake - candles all lit (and no, there are not fifty of them - that was a hard no from the birthday boy) and places it in front of Aaron at the head of the dining room table. 

You kiss him on the cheek, distracting him while you put a ridiculous party hat on his head. You can almost feel his eye roll and you hear a few phone cameras click. Of course, shortly after, everyone starts singing at him - horrifically out of pace and key, but it’s perfect. 

He’s confronted with the back of a few more phones as parents and friends snap pictures out of habit. He reaches out to snag you around the waist and you end up half-sitting on the arm of his chair. 

You loop your arms around his neck, leaning into his side. “Make a wish.”

After one slow blink and a deep breath, he blows out the candles to whoops and hollers and baby shrieks. 

Your eyes snap up out of instinct, finding Isaac covering his ears and looking more and more alarmed by the minute. You toss another kiss onto Aaron’s forehead and quickly take Isaac from Dave, traveling down the hall with practiced haste. 

If he’s honest, Aaron forgot. He should have grabbed Isaac’s headphones from your office, but he didn’t. He should have warned his son about the loud noises and all the people before they overwhelmed him, but he didn’t. He should have remembered that his son needed more thought and attention than the others, but he didn’t. 

He hides his self-directed frustration well, but it doesn’t take long for him to make a quick and subtle escape. He knows the girls are just fine. Emily has Caro well in-hand and Savannah is always looking for an excuse to practice with the girls. She’s due in February, looking radiant and lovely. 

In a near-whisper, he calls for you and Isaac as he tracks down the hall on light feet. He hears you murmur, then Isaac’s voice: “Here, Dad,” guides him into your office, where you’re stationed on the floor under your desk. 

Isaac’s playing with the soft carpet chosen especially for him, his little fingers getting lost in the plush fabric. Aaron kneels down and rests his forearms on the ground, searching for Isaac’s eyes. 

“Hey, little man.” 

He hums. 

That’s a good thing. 

Aaron puts his hand on the carpet, about three inches away from Isaac’s. He can see it, but it’s not touching him, communicating his presence without sensation. 

You meet Aaron’s eyes over Isaac’s head. Not your fault. 

He shoots you a withering look. 

I’m serious, Aaron. You raise your eyebrows and shake your head. Not your fault. We’re okay. Your eyes flicker to Isaac before returning to Aaron. He’s okay. 

Aaron watches as you arc your body around him, getting close but not too close, running your fingers through the carpet on either side of him. Aaron wiggles his own fingers, sinking deeper into the blue shag. To his surprise, it calms him a little. 

Little Man might be onto something here. 

Eventually, Isaac leans back into you, and you slowly bring your hands to his hair, massaging his scalp with the tips of your fingers. You look at Aaron and nod once. 

He takes his cue. As always, he’s in awe of your command over Isaac’s needs. With a breath, and very quietly, he asks. “Are you feeling better, little man?”

His eyes still on the carpet, he nods. “Just loud.” 

“Yeah. It was pretty loud.” He looks up to the bookshelf, spotting his headphones on their charger. “Do you want to go back to the living room, maybe with your ears on? Or do you want to stay in here?”

The boy stills, thinking. In the two years he’s known his son, the turning of gears in Isaac’s little head enamors and amazes him. He can almost see their spokes behind his eyes. After a minute or so - 

“Living room, but only for a little while.” 

You kiss him lightly on the top of his head, where the band of the headphones rests. “Do you want your ears?”

He nods and Aaron rises, bringing the headphones back down. Isaac puts them on and wiggles a little where he sits. Aaron likes to imagine it’s his way of settling back into his body. 

Much to the surprise of everyone present, Isaac reaches out to Aaron. With soft eyes, he takes his son in his arms, letting him wrap like a koala around his neck and chest. 

The three of you return, finding everyone still milling about, eating cake, and sharing space together. Jack, catching sight of you, jogs over. “Is Isaac okay?”

You nod, brushing the hair off Jack’s forehead. “Yeah, bud. It just got a little overwhelming for a minute.”

It’s been eleven years of you and Jack, but it never gets old for Aaron. The way you are with each other - somehow balancing a parent-child relationship with a steadfast best-friendship - constantly surprises and warms him. 

Jack nods, circling around so he can get into Isaac’s eye line. He waves a little, and Isaac waves back, lifting his hand briefly from Aaron’s collar. Jack offers a fist, and Isaac reaches out to tap it with three of his fingers. 

Aaron closes his eyes, taking it in. 

+++

“So,” you say, tucking into bed beside him. “Fifty.” 

“So,” He doesn’t pull his eyes from his book. “Thirty-six.” He throws you a side-eye, immediately noticing the playful glint in your eye. “Don’t start.” 

You raise your eyebrows, the picture of innocence. “Start what? I’m just appreciating my loving and handsome and thoughtful and distinguished husband on his birthday.” You scoot and shift, straddling him. “Are you gonna let me?”

That gets his attention. Keeping his eyes on you, he markes his place and sets the book on his bedside table. “I might.” 

You lean down, pressing your lips to his, speaking quietly against his mouth, like a secret. “Happy Birthday, my love.” 

If anyone asked, Aaron loved his present. 

+++

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