#Edit; sorry he’s had one friend he isn’t into and it was the old British professor he lived in Iceland with for a year and then ghosted | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

atlafan · 4 years ago

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Office Neighbors - Part One

a/n: OKAY! this is my new love, professor!Harry x professor!Y/N. This is a slow burn, so buckle up because it’s going to be a longgggg ride. enjoy! (also reblogs/feedback is super helpful) not proofread

warnings:none yet...I suppose some fluff? slight angst??

words: 20K

masterpost

You were all cozied up in bed, in a cocoon of blankets. Even though it was August, your apartment had central air, and it was glorious. You loved nothing more than practically sleeping in a burrito of blankets year round. It was a new place to go along with your new job.

Y/F/N Y/L/N, Adjunct Professor, Communication Department: that was your new title. You had your master’s degree, and now you could finally move on to get your PhD. Your specialization was social media and the like, but you also had background in rhetoric and film. The few faculty that served on your search committee were quite impressed with the research you had already started conducting. Your main research was about the pros and cons of anonymity online. The school was a perfect fit. You would be teaching a couple of the intro courses for the major, and some special topics courses.

Today was faculty orientation. You would be given yet another tour of the university, go through some technology workshops, and be shown to your office. You were excited because you hadn’t been able to meet all of your faculty yet, and you’d be going to your first faculty meeting towards the end of the day.

You check your phone and see that it’s going to be in the mid 80’s today. You sigh and get up to start your morning routine. Once your face is washed and your teeth are brushed, you rummage through your closet to see what would be the most appropriate thing to wear. A flowy dress, in theory, would be a good idea, but the idea of sweating between your legs didn’t sound all that great. You settle on a pair of emerald green shorts that fall just above your knee, perfectly appropriate length for school. Plus, they were just a cute pair of shorts in general. You pair it with a white short-sleeve blouse, and tuck it into the shorts to show the shape of your body. Next, you needed to tackle your hair. You could leave it down, but sweat and humidity were not your friends. You had gotten into the habit of parting your hair down the middle more, you were twenty-six now it was okay to go with your natural part. You thought it made you look more adult, whatever that meant. So, you part it, and pull up each side to make pig tails, then you create a bun on each side. You looked professional, but fun. Just the vibe you were going for. You only apply a little makeup, in fear of it melting off of you. You slip on a pair of white tennis shoes for comfort, gather your laptop and other things, and head out.

Rolling through Dunkin Donuts, you treat yourself with a vanilla late instead of your usual, it was your first day after all. You’re not feeling too hungry yet, so you don’t get anything to eat. A college habit that just hasn’t died yet: barely eating anything until the late afternoon. You park at the building where your last meeting of the day will be, always thinking ahead. You sip on your coffee and enjoy your stroll across the beautiful campus to your first meeting of the day. There were a few people in the classroom, and you shyly smile and wave as you take a seat.

Policies and procedures are talked about after everyone in the cohort introduces themselves. You notice that you’re the only CM hire, there were three math hires, two for history, one for CS, two for art, and two for CJ. Some seemed to be around your age, and other seemed older. Everyone was friendly enough. You observed everyone’s posture and body language. You couldn’t help it, you were practically trained to read rooms and people.

The campus tour isn’t anything new. This was about the fifth time you had been walked around by some students to show you where things were, but it was nice to get outside for a good walk. You’re given a break for lunch, and you opt to eat outside at one of the open picnic benches. You notice that most people wanted to eat alone. It was a lot of social time, you yourself didn’t mind the break from talking and sharing.

After lunch are the technology workshops, making sure your account was set up and that you knew how to edit your courses in moodle. It wasn’t terribly difficult, but it was something everyone had to do. Luckily, as a first year professor, you wouldn’t be given any advisees. That you were thankful for. You had taught before, of course, and you loved helping students, but you wanted to make sure you had a good handle on the curriculum before telling students what they should be taking for courses.

Around 3PM a student comes to show you to your academic building, and escort you to your new office before your faculty meeting. There’s a bit of chit chat between the two of you before they open the door to the overly hot building. You cough when you first enter from the humidity.

“Don’t worry, it’s only like this for the first couple of weeks.” She says and you nod.

She guides you straight in where the communication lounge was. Wow, an entire lounge, you think to yourself. There were a few couches and three offices on the main level. A flat screen TV projecting student projects across from one of the couches. She takes you down a spiral staircase where there were four other offices, one vacant for you. There were two computer clusters, a projects and screen, and more couches. You already liked that it seemed to be an interactive space for students.

“Looks like you got the one with the window.” She smiles. “Have a nice day.”

“Thank you so much.” You beam at the student that you’ll probably never see again.

The door was open for you, and two sets of keys were sitting on your desk. The office was bare just waiting for your interior design ideas to be splashed all over it. Your desk was L-shaped with two monitors and a laptop plugged into a docking station. At least you didn’t have to wait to be given your school sanctioned computer. You smile when you see that you were given a Mac as requested. You look at your one window and take a picture so you could find curtains for it. You open and close all of drawers just to make sure there was nothing left behind inside the desk. There were two seats on the other side of the desk for what you would assume would be for student meetings. You could get better ones. You also definitely had room for a small couch, a love seat perhaps.

“Well, look at that, I finally got a new neighbor.”

You jump slightly and turn around. There were a couple of reasons that you were slightly started. Whoever it was that was speaking to you had a deep, gravel-like voice, and they had a British accent. Not totally uncommon at a university, but still something you weren’t expecting. You were also started because no one else was downstairs with you. As you turn around, your cheeks flush when you take in the man with the toothy smile before you.

He was wearing a loose pair of jeans with a couple of rips in them, beaten up white sneakers with different color laces, and a light blue t-shirt. You barely have time to take in his tattoos, or the thick rim of his glasses before he speaks again.

“I’m so sorry, did I startle you?”

“Only slightly.” You give him a half smile. “I’m Y/N.” She extends her hand out to him and he takes it, shaking it gently.

“I’m Harry.”

“Ah! Dr. Styles, yeah. You were away when all of my interviews were happening.”

“Yes, I was away at a conference, but I heard great things. And please, just call me Harry. We’re not a very formal group.” He smirks.

“So, your office is the one next to mine?”

“That’s right.” He nods towards it, and you step out to look at his door.

Dr. Harry Styles, PhD was on his door along with a paper with his office hours printed on it.

“You’re lucky you got one with a window right away, I’m surprised no one wanted to snatch it up. The two across from us don’t have windows, but maybe some people don’t really care about that. I happen to enjoy looking out the window to see what’s happening when my eyes need a rest from the screen.”

You nod your head and peep inside his office. He had put his desk in the back corner of the room. So if students were to come see him, his back would be to them and they could easily see whatever he was doing on the computer, but you notice he also has a corner set up with a few chairs and around coffee table. Perhaps he’s able to discuss things easier this way. Many ideas pop into your head about how you might like to set things up.

“There’s a really great consignment shop downtown with quality furniture for cheap. That’s where I got those that table and chairs.”

“Thanks.” You squint at the three diplomas framed one the wall, and a couple of certifications as well. He had a small shelf with a couple of awards too. “What’s your PhD in?”

“At the base level, Media Studies, but my master’s was in Literary Dynamics. I’m a bit of a book worm as you can see.” He points to the bookshelf full of worn books and you smile. “Got my doctorate here, same as you’re doing, and they offered me a tenure position. Been here about six years total now, I love it.”

You think for a moment to try to put together how old he might be. There was a boyishness to his features, but he also had crinkles around his eyes and a few specs of grey in his hair. Then again, so did you. You greyed early, not that anyone would know since you get highlights in your hair.

“I turn thirty-two in February, if that’s what you were wondering.”

“Oh…I wasn’t, um, I-“

“It’s okay.” He chuckles. “Shall we head up to the faculty meeting? They sent me down here to get you.”

“Yeah, let’s get to it.” You quickly grab your laptop and follow him up the spiral staircase, trying not to look at his butt too much.

He leads you down a hall to a room used for meetings. A large table with people sitting around it casually, a few you recognize from your search committee.

“Y/N!” Lisa, the department chair, exclaims. “Glad Harry found you, come in.” Everyone turns their attention towards you and you smile. You sit down, and Harry goes to sit at the other end of the table. “Right, so let’s go round the table to introduce ourselves to Y/N. Let’s tell her what courses we all teach as well. I’m Lisa, obviously, I teach Game Design and Senior Seminar. I used to teach more, but so it goes when you’re the department chair.”

“Hi, Y/N, I’m Andre, I teach Communication Theory, Digital Media in the New Age, and Journalism.”

“I’m Mateo, good to see you again.” He smiles and you nod. “I teach Tech Comm, Intercultural Communication, and Strategic Communication.”

“I’m Sandra, I teach Global Perspectives in the Media, Film and Video Production Techniques, and basically any other film production courses.” She laughs.

“I’m Harry.” He gives you that same toothy smile. “I teach Communication, Media, and Wellness, Media Effects, Analyzing Screen Media, Literature into Film, and The Craft of Screenwriting.”

“I’m Janette, I teach Philosophy of Communication, Advanced Composition, and Interactive Web Communication.”

“Wonderful, thank you everyone. Don’t worry, Y/N, our admin Lucas will email you all of this info if he hasn’t already.”

“That’s alright, thank you.” She smiles.

“Why don’t you tell everyone what courses you’ll be teaching this fall and spring?”

“Well, this fall I’ll be teaching Communication and Media Studies, Media and Cultural Studies, and Social Media: Technology and Culture. Then in the spring I’ll teach the two intro courses, along with Professional Social Media, and Rhetoric and Semiotics.”

“We’re so happy to have you aboard.” Lisa smiles.

Lisa goes on to explain any policy or curriculum changes. Y/N notices how casual the group is, and also how diverse the group is. It was nice to see.

“Now, I know it’s your first day, and you just moved to the area…feel free to say no, but we’re all headed downtown to the pub for dinner if you’d like to join us.” Lisa says at the end of the meeting.

“That would be great! I haven’t gotten the chance to eat downtown much.”

“Oh, you’ll love the pub.” Sandra says. “Best nachos I’ve ever had.”

You smile and stand with everyone. You notice that everyone just simply walks downtown. You run to your car quickly to drop her bag off, and continues the walk. You all go in and grab a table for seven. You slide into the booth and Harry slides in next to you, followed by Janette and Sandra. Lisa, Mateo, and Andre all sit in the chairs across from you. You weren’t sure if you felt comfortable drinking in front of your colleagues just yet, but you order a vodka-tonic anyways just to be social.

“Sandra’s right, they do have the best nachos here.” Lisa says. “Should we just get a couple of orders of that? We could do one with chicken and one without.”

“I can just pick it off, don’t be silly.” Harry says.

“I, uh , don’t eat meat either, and I can also just pick it off.” You speak up.

“Oh, please.” Lisa scoffs. “We can get one with and one without, no problem.”

“You don’t eat meat?” Harry turns to you slightly.

“Um, no.” He was very close to you, and you weren’t sure how you felt about it. You just met him. You take a sip of your drink so your mouth doesn’t feel so dry. “My doctor told me to cut out red meat, and then I got sick of chicken and stuff, so I just cut it all out.” You shrug.

“Things were sort of the same with me, I just didn’t like how it made me feel after eating it. There’s other ways to get protein. I eat a lot of beans and nuts.”

“Right.” You were curious as to why he was being so open with you.

“Course, I feel like I’m starved half the time, don’t know if that happens to you, but I always keep granola bars in my office if you ever need one.”

“Oh! Um, thank you. Are we allowed to bring mini fridges? I’m really into overnight oats right now, so if I could just leave that stuff in there…”

“We are! It can’t be one of those huge ones though, it’s gotta be one of those ones that looks like a cube.” Harry makes a fake outlines of a box with his fingers. The waitress comes over and takes the orders for the nachos. “Excuse me, love, could I also get a separate order of chicken fingers and fries to go?”

The waitress nods and Harry smiles at her. You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Got someone at home who requested it.” He says before turning his attention to the other conversations at the table.

You wondered whom might me home waiting for him. A wife, a girlfriend…boyfriend? Harry wore a lot of rings, and his nails were painted, but a lot of men were doing that these days so you didn’t want to make any assumptions.

“So, Y/N, where’s home for you?” Andre asks.

“Oh, I’m from Boston originally.”

“Wow! And you moved up here to the mountains. Do you miss the hustle and bustle yet?”

“Not yet, I sort of don’t mind the quiet, although, when I first moved I had trouble falling asleep at night. It was almost too quiet.” You laugh. “But I’ve gotten more used to it. I’m in a great little apartment building, nice neighborhood. I think there are some grad students that I’m neighbors with.”

“Do you going hiking at all?” Mateo asks. “There are some great trails around here.”

“I haven’t gone yet, but I’d certainly be willing to give it a go.”

“We usually all go together before the semester starts.” Lisa says. It surprised you at how close everyone seemed. All different people of different ages. “There’s this really easy mountain about twenty minutes from campus with a beautiful view of the lakes region.”

“Well, I’ll certainly give it a go. Just let me know when.” You smile.

Sandra was absolutely right, the nachos were incredible. Lots of layers of chips and cheese, fresh veggies and guacamole, not to mention the sour cream and salsa. Everyone squares up their checks and heads out. Harry grabs his to go order from the bar. The sun was just barely setting, god, you loved August.

“I parked in the same lot as you, mind if I walk back up with you?” Harry asks after you all say goodnight.

“Not at all.” You smile.

“So, how was the first day? Is your brain ready to explode?”

“Only a little. I think if I take in anymore new information today I’ll pop.” Harry chuckles at that.

“I remember my faculty orientation.” He smirks and shakes his head. “I think I wore a suit, if you can believe it.”

“I’m sure you clean up really well.” You say playfully and he rolls his eyes.

“Well, you’re right about that, but it was super embarrassing at the time. No one told me how casual it was.”

“A little initiation ritual perhaps.”

“Maybe.” He looks at her. “I like your little, um, what do you call those.”

“Oh! My buns?”

“Yeah! Didn’t know if you’d still call them that, or poofs, or something.”

“Poof works.” You chuckle. “I wasn’t sure how humid it was going to be so I just did it up like that. They’re nice for keeping pens or pencils in.”

“Brilliant.” He smiles and reaches his car. “Well, I hope you enjoyed your first day. Feel free to email me if you have any questions. I know being new the area and campus can be overwhelming.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.” You nod and get into your own car. You take a deep breath as you drive away. “I can do this.” You tell yourself. You enjoyed how friendly everyone was, you could definitely see yourself fitting in with everyone.

Harry gets home soon after he leaves campus, only living about fifteen minutes away. He owned a quaint ranch-style home.

“Andy, I’m home, bud!” He yells out. “Got your dinner.” He walks into the living room and sees his son playing video games. “Please don’t tell me you played all day…”

“Hey, dad.” He pauses the game and takes the to go box from Harry. “No, I didn’t play all day.” He rolls his eyes. “I went to the skate park at with Brandon, and then we swam in his pool, remember?”

“Right, I’ll have to say thanks to his parents.” Harry sits down on the couch and sighs.

“Tired?” Andy asks with his mouth full.

“Yeah, it was just a day full of meetings, then we all had dinner. Being social is draining.” He laughs. “How’s the chicken, good?”

“Mhm.”

“Let me get you some napkins…water?”

“Yes, please.”

Harry nods to his son. Harry usually got to be with his son all summer, but this year Andy asked to stay for the school year. It was a rather large discussion that Harry had to have with him and Andy’s mother, who Harry wasn’t on bad terms with, but he certainly didn’t live the one on one chat.

“I just feel like he didn’t get this idea on his own.” She whispered to him in the kitchen.

“I swear I didn’t put the idea in his head. He just asked me out of the blue if he could be enrolled at the middle school. He’s going into fifth grade, maybe he wants a fresh start. He has good friends here, Paige.”

“He has good friends at home too…” She sighs. “I just…so what, now I only get to see him on weekends? I’m his mother, Harry.”

“And I’m his father.”

“You get him for the entire summer.”

“You know it’s not enough time with him. I miss him a lot during the school year.” He drums his fingers on the kitchen counter. “Do you think…I mean…your boyfriend moved in with you, right? Do you think he feels uncomfortable with the change?”

“I don’t know, when Noah and I spoke with him about it he said he was fine with it. He was used to him sleeping over anyways. He’s knowing him for two years now, it’s not that weird.”

“I didn’t say it was weird, I’m talking about comfort. Maybe he just doesn’t want to share his space. It’s not just Noah that moved in, he has a daughter too…”

“Andy and Rachel get along really well. She’s only a year younger than he is.” She sighs again. “I don’t want him thinking he’s being replaced, Harry. What if he doesn’t want to come back into my life once he’s with you all the time?”

“I don’t think that could happen, I’ll make sure it doesn’t.”

“And you’d be able to handle him all year long?”

“Sure, I’d have to change when I’m offering my classes so I’m home at a reasonable time, but I can make it work.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I could always send him home to you if I can’t be around anyways, like how you do with me.”

“Right.” She looks into the living room where Andy had his headphones in, and then back to Harry. “That’s my little baby in there. How can I let him go?”

“You’re not letting him go, you’re letting him grow up a bit. Why don’t we tell him we’ll see how this year goes, and then we can talk more seriously about custody and all that?”

“Alright, yeah, that seems fair.”

“You only live thirty minutes away, I could always drop him off for dinner sometimes, or-“

“Yeah.” She nods. “Well, um, let’s go talk with him then.”

That conversation happened after the July 4th holiday. Andy went home every other weekend to his mother’s, and Harry always talked with him about how his time with her was. Andy would always say that had a great time. He really did just like his friends better where Harry lived, and he was getting older. Maybe he just wanted to live with his dad.

“Alright.” Harry hands him the napkins and water. “Shall we watch a movie and then get you ready for bed?”

“I’m not a baby.” He scoffs.

“You are though, you’ll always be my baby.”

“Dad.” Andy groans. “Don’t be gross.”

“Can’t help it, you’re too stinkin’ cute.”

“Please stop before I barf up my chicken.”

Harry laughs and switches the TV to Netflix. Andy looked a lot like Harry in that he had curly hair and green eyes. He had his mother’s button nose and freckles. Andy liked dressing in basketball shorts and t-shirts, but he also like using a scrunchie or bandana to keep his hair off his face the way Harry did. It was cute.

“Am I going to mum’s this weekend?”

“You are, my darling.” Harry sips on a beer while lounging on the couch during the movie. “That alright?”

“Course.” He shrugs. “I actually have a new skate trick to show Rachel.”

“Do you to go boarding together?”

“Sometimes. She’s better on her skates, though.” He munches on some popcorn. “I kinda like going there on Friday nights because her and Noah go to temple on Saturday mornings, so mum and I get up late and make breakfast together.”

“Good, I’m glad you get that quality time together. I hope you’re paying attention to the culture that Rachel and Noah are bringing into your life, though. She’ll probably have a Bat Mitzvah someday and you’ll have this big party to go to.”

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever…I mean…it’s sort of weird that you like Noah…”

“Is it?” Harry sits up. “I’ve got no problem with him. He’s a nice guy, takes care of your mum.”

“That’s just it, I have friends with divorced parents and they-“

“Well, mum and I aren’t divorced, Andy, you know that. We never got married.”

“Even still…”

“We wanted to do right by you can be good co-parents. I’d be a real brat if I was rude to him.”

“How come you and mum never got married?”

Harry nearly chokes on his drink. He clears his throat and pauses the movie. Andy never really asked questions like this. He never even saw Harry and Paige as a couple, he never knew them together.

“Um…well…we were really young when you were born. I was twenty when we found out about you, and I was twenty-one when you born, I was just barely finishing school when you came along. Your mum was a year ahead of me, so luckily she got her degree before you were born.”

“Were you together then?”

“Yeah.” Harry nods. “Mum and I dated for about two years in undergrad, and then…well…we found out about you, and we were nervous, but excited.”

“But you didn’t want to get married?”

“I asked her, but she said no.”

“Why?”

“She thought I only wanted to marry her because she was pregnant.” He sighs. “Things like that sort of get complicated when you’re older. I also had a lot going on for school, and she didn’t want me to put my career on hold, she already had a full time job and all that. We tried to make things work, but we both realized a relationship shouldn’t be made to work because of…a baby. We both love you very much, Andy, make no mistake about that, but mum and I make better friends than a couple, I can assure you.”

“Oh.”

“Do you wish we were together sometimes?”

“Sometimes.” He nods. “But only because I hate going back and forth.”

“I’m sorry.” He sighs. “We live as close to each other as we can.”

“I know.” He furrows his brows. “I just don’t like when Noah acts like he’s my dad because he’s not, you are.”

“True, but you should still be respectful. Rachel lives there full time too, so-“

“I can’t stand that either, honestly.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know…ugh, she was on the phone with one of her friends and she referred to me as her brother. Not even step-brother, brother! I’m not her brother.” He huffs.

“Andy…come here.” His son gets up and sits next to him. Harry puts an arm around him and holds him close. “You’re going through a lot of change right now, huh?”

“I guess.” He looks up at Harry. “I think Noah’s gonna ask mum to marry her…which I guess is nice for her, but I’d rather just be with you.”

“You are with me.”

“Permanently, though. I’ve felt better just going over on the weekends, it’s plenty.”

“Mum and I said we’d see how this year at school goes, and then we could decide. I want you here, but I have to respect what she wants too.” He smiles down at him. “Poor you, having two parents who just love you so much.” He kisses his forehead.

“Blegh!” He wipes the spit from his forehead away. “What is wrong with you?” He gets up and goes back to his own seat.

“What? A father can’t love on his son anymore just because he’s in the double digits?”

“Exactly, press play.”

Harry laughs and shakes his head as he starts the movie back up.

Your semester was off to a great start. You got your office decorated nicely, and you were able to make it a cozy and homey space, which was good because you spent a lot of late nights there. Balancing teaching multiple sections of three different classes while also making time for research was proving to be a little difficult. Sometimes students were hanging out in the lounge while you were working, so you didn’t feel truly alone.

You were on an incredible team. You met bi-weekly with Lisa just for wellness check ins. She knew how overwhelming the first year could be, and she recommended chatting with Harry. He was the last one to go through all of it, so he would have the best tips. Harry was often out of the building by 3PM most days. He held virtual office hours from his home office. You weren’t entirely sure why he always needed to get home so early. Well, you weren’t sure until the answer slapped you in the face.

“And this is my new neighbor, Y/N.” You hear him say as he knocks on your door. “Got a second?”

“Um…sure.” You stand up and see a young boy with Harry.

“Y/N, this is my son, Andy. He had a half day from school today, so he’s hanging out until it’s time to go home.”

“Oh! Hi, Andy. It’s nice to meet you.” You had foolishly assumed the picture of Harry holding a baby on his desk was a nephew or something since he himself looked so young in the photo.

“Nice to meet you too.” He mumbles.

“What grade are you in?”

“Fifth.”

“Oh, so you just started middle school? How’s that going?”

“Okay, I guess.” He shrugs. “Dad, can I go get a snack at the grille?”

“Sure.” Harry fishes for his wallet and hands Andy a ten dollar bill. “Don’t pig out though, I want you to be hungry for dinner.”

“Okay.” He walks away from them and Harry shakes his head with a smile.

“He’s a human disposal right now.”

“I…didn’t know you had a son.” You say awkwardly.

“Yeah! Yikes, have I not mentioned him before now?” You shake your head no. “Guess that means we haven’t spent enough time together then.” You blush slightly and Harry clears his throat, then pushes his glasses up his nose. “He, um, just turned ten in May…sort of had him young.”

“I see.”

“This is his first time being with me during the school year. He wanted to give this school system a try, couldn’t say no to that.”

“Oh…um…so his mom…?” You didn’t want to pry too much. Harry wore a lot of rings so you weren’t sure if he was married or not.

“She lives about thirty minutes away, closer to the lakes. She’s a para at a law office, does well for herself. We were college sweethearts, but it didn’t work out.” He shrugs and you nod. “She’s got a serious boyfriend and he has a daughter a year younger than Andy. I think he felt like his personal space was closing in on him, so he asked to live with me. I usually just get him for the summer when I’m not teaching, it’s been great having him around more.”

“He has your eyes.” You wanted smack your forehead for making such a weird comment.

“He does! One of the first things I noticed about him when they stopped being that weird, dark color babies have when they’re first born.” You simply nod your head. “Well, I’ve taken up a lot of your time…um…let’s plan a lunch or something sometime soon. I’d love to know how your classes are going. I know it can’t be easy teaching the intro courses.”

“I’m doing well with it, actually. I taught a lot of the first-year courses at my previous institution. I’ve just been more bogged down with my research than anything else.”

“I’d like to hear more about that too, if that’s alright. Didn’t get to hear about like everyone else since I was gone during your interviews.”

“Sure, we could do lunch sometime then.” Harry smiles at that.

“Great. You know, we get together to do a monthly game night with the faculty from the English department. It’s in a couple of weeks, I hope you’ll come. A lot of their classes double count within our major, so it would be good for you to meet them.”

“Yeah, just let me know when it is. I enjoyed the hike a couple weeks ago.”

“I was pissed I missed that.” Harry groans. “I had to take Andy-“

“Dad.” Andy comes back, handing Harry his change. He was biting into a BLT.

“Thank you, let’s go into my office, yeah? You’ve got some homework that needs to get done.”

“Fine.” He goes into Harry’s office with a huff.

“Anyways, I’ll let you know when the game night is.”

“Okay, thanks.” You smile at each other and go back to sit down in your office.

He had a kid, a ten-year-old…holy shit. You couldn’t imagine going through your master’s and doctoral program while also raising a child. Good for him, you think. Andy was a pretty cute kid, a mop of curls, just like his dad.

You gave yourself Saturdays off. Saturdays were for sleeping in, doing a quick pilates workout, grocery shopping, laundry and whatever other chores you may have. Saturdays were for curling up on the sofa with a cup of tea and good movie. Saturday nights were for you and Janette, who you have become pretty close with, to go have drinks.

“You need to find someone to bring home with you tonight.” Janette says, as you both begin your second drinks of the evening.

“Oh stop.” You laugh. “I don’t think I have the energy to pretend to be into someone enough to fuck them.” She rolls her eyes at you. “So…what’s this I hear about a game night with the English department?”

“Oh! It’s so much fun. Once a month someone different hosts it. Sometimes we play board games, sometimes it’s card games, one time we even played Heads Up, that was a hoot.” She giggles. “You should definitely come, Lisa’s hosting the next one. Her house is huge and has a beautiful view of the lakes and mountains.”

“I think I might, yeah.”

“Who told you about it? I think Lucas was planning to add you to the email about it.”

“Oh, Harry mentioned it the other day. He said it would be good for me to get to know the other faculty.”

“He’s certainly right about that.”

“I met his son…”

“Andy was in the office! Damn, I try to keep candy in my office for him. He’s so sweet. He was just a little guy when Harry started, can’t believe he’s in middle school.”

“Yeah, he was really polite. Sort of closed off at the same time.”

“Harry seems to think he’s become more self-aware. It’s a big deal for him to want to live with Harry year round.” She sips her drink. “Shouldn’t gossip too much about it though.”

“Right.” You sip your own drink.

“The students seem to like you so far, we’ve all heard good things from our advisees.”

“Really?! That means a lot.”

“Your teaching must speak for itself.”

“Students are always in the downstairs lounge, it’s nice to chat with them sometimes. They always seem to be visiting Harry. Andre and Sandra are down with us too, and they don’t have as many frequent flyers.”

“I know you’re new and all, but I didn’t think you were naïve.” She chuckles.

“What do you mean?”

“Harry perfectly fits the hot teacher trope, Y/N. He’s slightly mysterious with his tattoos and his nail polish, but still totally approachable. He’s dorky, but funny. He’s got a little muscle on him, but he’s not terribly intimidating, plus he’s fucking brilliant. You should sit in on his Literature and Film class.”

“One might think you have a crush on him from the way you speak about him.” You tease her.

“One would have to be straight, my dear.” She winks at you, and you laugh a little too loud. “However, I know an attractive man when I see one. Girls swoon over him all the time. It was really bad when he first started because he was a little closer in age with students, things have calmed down considerably though.”

“He dresses nicely too, I like his style.”

“It’s a little out there, but it works for him.”

“Sometimes I can smell the nail polish remover from my office.” You giggle. “He really hates when they’re chipped, huh?”

“God, you have no idea. Sometimes in the faculty meetings I’ll catch him chipping away at, next time I see him they’re freshly painted again.”

You take an uber home after having four drinks with your friend. You gossiped about some other people, Harry didn’t remain the topic of conversation for long. You get home and strip yourself of your clothes, and wash up before getting into your blanket burrito.

Sundays were for getting a head start on the week. Sometimes you worked from your office at home, but today you forgot something at your office at work, so you decide to just grab all your things and work from your office for the day. You were making some progress on your research and you wanted to keep riding the wave you were on.

You had a tie-dye t-shirt on under your coat that had a picture of Goofy on it, and a pair of jeans on. You didn’t need to be super dressed up for some weekend work. No one was usually in the building anyways. You get some up and put some music on while you do some reading and highlighting.

“Hey! Look who it is.”

“Jesus!” You flinch and look up. “Scared the shit out of me, Harry.”

“Sorry about that.” He rubs the back of his neck. “You’re a tad jumpy.”

“Hard not to be when you’re always coming out of nowhere.” You turn your music down and stand up to walk over to him, crossing your arms over your stupid shirt. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, Andy’s with his mum this weekend, and I needed a change of scenery from the home office, so I thought I’d come here.”

“Oh.”

He looks you up and down and smiles.

“Is Goofy your favorite?”

“Huh?”

“Your shirt.” He points to it. “Personally, I’m partial to Mickey Mouse, but Goofy’s fun.”

“This is a really old shirt, I did laundry yesterday so this is what I was left with.”

“Ah…and I suppose you weren’t expecting to bump into your colleague.”

“Correct.”

“Well, I think it’s proper cute, so no worries, I won’t make fun.” He winks and goes into his own office.

You feel your cheek and it’s considerably warmer than it was from before he got there. You shake your head and return to your seat, opting to put your headphones in to not disturb him. Just as you’re getting going in the zone again, he comes into your office and plops down on one of the reupholstered chairs you had on the other side of your desk.

“Yes?” You ask, taking your headphones out.

“I want you to come observe my wellness class this week.”

“Why?”

“Because I think you could use some time to distress. You don’t teach any 8AM’s, right?”

“No…um…what makes you think I need to distress?”

“You just look like you’re carrying a lot of tension. It’s a great class. We chat, we meditate. Sometimes students fall asleep, but I’ve told them it’s okay. If their bodies are telling them they need sleep, then they should sleep. We do a bit of yoga as well. Plus, I just think it would be good for you to observe me.”

“I was told your literature class would be fun to observe, couldn’t I do that instead?”

“And let you get out of a bit of meditation?” He scoffs. “I don’t think so, sister.” You laugh at that.

“Alright, which day should I come?”

“It’s my Tuesday/Thursday course. You can pick which morning you’d prefer.”

“Anything else?”

“Tell me about your research.”

“Are you just using me to procrastinate?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Hey, what happens between me and the stack of papers I need to grade is none of your business.” You laugh at him again. Harry was funny, no doubt about that. “Come on, just a few minutes, tell me what you’re working on.”

“I am researching anonymity online, the pros and cons, how social media is mixed into it, stuff like that. People carry themselves different on the various social media platforms, trying to show specific versions of themselves, but when you’re able to remain anonymous, you somehow are truly able to be yourself without fear of judgement.”

“So, what are the cons then?”

“Oh, there are tons. There’s the fear of someone finding this anonymous version of yourself and being exposed. Then there are the people that forget there’s someone else behind the screen and send nasty messages to other anonymously.”

“That’s my biggest fear with Andy. He’s been begging me for a smart phone, but I just don’t feel comfortable with that yet.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I told him when he was thirteen we could talk about it.”

“It’s funny, I didn’t get my first phone until I was fifteen, and it was one of those ones that slid open and had a keyboard. Literally had to use the family desktop if I wanted to go on Facebook.”

“Do people even use Facebook anymore? Feel like it’s just forty-year-old wine moms and Home Depot dads.” Harry snorts.

“No one uses it anymore because it’s not fun. It may as well be LinkedIn.” You scoff.

“Well, I’ll certainly be looking forward to reading what you whip up when the time comes.” He smiles.

“Thanks.”

“I’ll let you get back to it…um, feel like grabbing a bite later?”

“If you don’t disturb me for the next two hours I’ll consider getting lunch with you.”

“Oh, I love a challenge.” He grins and stands up, leaving your office.

You smile and shake your head. Perhaps your neighbor was becoming a pretty good friend.

“You’re coming to Lisa’s tonight, right?” Harry asks you as he slings his bag over his shoulder on Friday afternoon.

“I believe so, six, right?”

“Yup! Do you need directions?”

“I have this thing called a smart phone, and get this…it has an app where if I put in an address, it shows me the route!”

“I really hate it when you’re sarcastic with me.” He rolls his eyes. “Get it enough from my son, you know?”

“Will he be joining the fun as well?”

“Nope, he’s with his mum this weekend. I gotta go get him from school and get him all packed up for her.”

“Does she always pick him up?”

“She picks him up on Fridays, and I pick him up on Sundays.” He shrugs. “It just works for us.”

“Makes sense.”

“Right, well, I’ll see you later.”

“Okay.” You smile and wave him off.

After knuckling at your eyes, you head home around 4PM. You wanted to shower and freshen up before heading to Lisa’s. It was a beautiful, chilly Fall evening, so you opt for a light sweater and black jeans, and a pair of boots. You run your fingers through your hair, reapply some makeup, and grab the bottle of white you had chilling in your fridge. You plug the address into your phone, and get going.

It was about a twenty-five minute drive. Lisa lived in a neighborhood with a lot of beautiful homes. Her driveway was long and winding, and on top of a hill.

“This must be a bitch in the winter.” You say to yourself. Maybe that was why she was hosting the September game night. There were a couple of other cars there, so you didn’t feel totally awkward. You walk up to the door and ring the bell.

“Y/N!” Lisa exclaims and hugs you. “Come on in, so glad you could make it.”

“Thank you for having me. I brought some wine.” You hand the bottle to her as you step inside.

“Oh, thank you, dear.”

“Shoes on or off?”

“On is perfectly fine, it’s all hardwood.” Lisa leads you inside. “I’ll get this open.”

You wait for her to pour you a glass, and then she leads you into the living room. Sandra and Mateo were already there. You wave hello and grab a seat.

“Y/N, this is Dan, the English department chair, Alice, Joe, and Fred.”

“Hi, it’s nice to formally meet you all.” You stand up and shake a few hands.

Everyone mingles and eats the snacks Lisa puts out. Her husband was quite the co-host. Janette shows up next, and you end up sitting with her. Harry’s the last to arrive. Lisa gets him a glass of red right away. He looked handsome. A tan cardigan over a white t-shirt and a pair of light wash jeans.

“Sorry I’m late everyone, Paige was over an hour late picking Andy up. There was an accident on the highway and she got stuck behind it, it was a whole thing.”

Paige, it was the first time Y/N heard Harry actually say the name of Andy’s mother.

“No worries, H.” Andre says. “Relax, we haven’t even decided on the game yet.”

“Thank god.” Harry plops down next to you on the couch. “Janette, did Y/N tell you she observed my wellness class yesterday?”

“She did, she told me she fell asleep the second you turned the lights off.” She snickers.

“Please, keep talking about me like I’m not even here.” You roll your eyes. Harry and Janette both lean over you so they can pretend to speak closer. “Okay, okay.” You push them both away. “That’s enough, thank you.”

“Alright, everyone, I was thinking we could play charades, yeah?” Lisa announces. “It’ll keep us limber.”

“English vs. CM?” Dan asks.

“You know it.” Lisa grins.

You were pretty good at charades so you weren’t worried. The couple of glasses of wine certainly helped boost your confidence. It was fun to let a little loose with your colleagues. It was some much needed bonding. Harry was quite competitive, which surprised you because he was usually so chill about everything. It was down to the final points, Harry needed to guess the name of your film correctly.

You put up two fingers.

“Second word.” You nod and he licks his lips in concentration You pretend to open a book and write it in it. “Uhhh, book…” He furrows his brows. You look up like as if you’re reading something, and then you pretend to write the book some more. “Notes…notebook, oh! The Notebook!” You tap your finger on your nose and your team cheers. “Ha!” Harry stands up and hugs you. He lets you go and looks back at everyone. “That was exhilarating. Better luck next time.” He says to the English team.

“Wasn’t exactly a difficult film to guess.” Alice says playfully.

“I had zero control over the slip of paper I chose out of that hat.” You grin.

You all help clean up before heading out. You slip your coat on and head outside after saying your goodbyes.

“Y/N?” You hear Harry from behind you. “You’re good to drive, right?”

“Yeah, of course. Wouldn’t get behind the wheel if I wasn’t.”

“Alright.” He smiles. “Just wanted to be sure.” He walks with you outside.

“It would be pretty bad if I got so fucked up I couldn’t drive home from our department chair’s house.”

“Lisa would actually get a pretty good kick out of it.” He smirks. You get to your car and press the button to unlock it. “Well…I hope you enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

“Same to you, any big plans while Andy’s gone?”

“Not really, I try to save the fun stuff for while he’s with me.”

“Aw, no hot dates.” You wink at him. Okay, maybe some of the wine was still in your system. He blinks at you for a moment and then he bursts out laughing.

“Right, the ladies are really fighting to knock my door down.” He wipes a tear from under his eye. “Can’t remember the last time I went on a proper date to be honest with you. Not exactly a turn on when you bring someone home and they see kid’s toys hanging around.”

“Oh come on, you’ve totally got the hot single dad thing working for you.” You nudge his shoulder. “Janette I usually go out on Saturday nights for drinks, you should come out tomorrow.”

“Um…which, uh, which bar do you go to?”

“Firefly, little more adult. We don’t really see the college kids there.”

“Sure, yeah, I know that place well. Um, what time?”

“Nine?”

“I’ll be there.” He smiles.

“Great! Goodnight, Harry.”

“Night, Y/N.”

He watches as you get into your car and drive away. It wasn’t until you woke up the next morning that you realize that you essentially asked him out, and that you sort of flirted with him. You text Janette immediately and let her know he may show up.

Jan: Yay! Harry’s so much fun to go drinking with, this’ll be great!

Will it? You think to yourself. It was one thing to have a couple of glasses of wine with colleagues, but you usually got pretty drunk with Janette, always taking an uber to and from the bar. You were a nervous wreck all day, and you weren’t sure why. You were hoping all of your Saturday chores would distract you, but they weren’t.

As you get ready, you decide on a blue dress that showed a tasteful amount of cleavage, pairing it with patterned nylons, and boots. Your hair is down and wavy, and your makeup looks cute, for now. You put on your leather jacket and head out. Well, not before doing a quick shot at home. Your leg bounces the entire time in the uber. Janette is already there at your usual table. She waves you over and you sit down.

“I texted Harry earlier.” She says to you. “Just so he really knew he was invited.”

“I don’t have his number, otherwise I would have. Sorry, I feel like I should have asked first. This is sort of like our girl’s night.”

“Are you kidding?! Like I said earlier, Harry is super fun to drink with.”

After you both guzzle down your first drink, Harry arrives. He’s got a black button up on with the first few buttons undone, exposing the birds on his collar bones. He smiles when he sees the both of you.

“H!” Janette says, getting up to hug him and give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Hello, love.” He gives her a squeeze and a returned kiss. He looks at you and you give him a shy smile before giving him a side hug. “Thanks again for the invite, haven’t been to this place in a while.” He slides into the stool.

“Oh, of course!” Janette says. “I was excited when Y/N said you were coming.”

“Apparently I need to do more fun things when Andy’s with his mum.” He nudges you.

“What do you usually do when he’s gone?” You ask him.

“I usually clean up the house, stalk up on food, wash his sheets…dad stuff.” He shrugs with a laugh. The waitress comes over and smiles.

“Can I get you started with anything?”

“Rum and coke would be great, and I’ll start a tab.” He hands her his credit card and she nods.

“Nother round for you two?”

“Please!” Janette says.

“Yes.” You say with a smile.

The waitress nods and smiles. She walks away and looks back at Harry, blushing.

“Oh boy.” Janette grins. “I think you may get lucky tonight, H.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Our waitress did a double take.”

“She’s probably, like, ten years younger than I am or something. Not my style.”

“Fair enough.” She shrugs.

“What about you? Any ladies you’re trying to take home?”

“Well, if I weren’t in a long distance relationship, sure.”

“You and Sadie are still together?” He asks almost in shock.

“Of course we are! You would have known if we broke up.”

“Doesn’t it get difficult?” He frowns.

“I really don’t mind. When we’re able to be together it’s nice, but I like having my own space.” Janette turns to you. “Sadie is a photographer, traveling for National Geographic.”

“That’s incredible!”

The waitress brings all of the dinks over and you clink your glasses.

“Alright, what’s the gossip, ladies? Who are we shitting on?”

“Hmm.” Jaette taps her chin. “Perhaps Dan? He’s obviously still in love with Lisa.”

“Still?” Your jaw drops.

“Back in the day,” Harry starts, “he and Lisa were quite the item. She met Arnold at a conference. He’s a chef.”

“Ah, that’s why the food is so good.”

“Mhm, he’s retired now, but at the time she had to make this big choice between the two of them, and she chose Arnold. Built an entire life with him. Dogs, kids, big house, you name it.” Harry explains.

“And Dan’s been married and divorced twice. Lisa’s the one that got away.” Janette sighs. “Course, Lisa’s incredibly oblivious, or she pretends to be. You’d think they were simply best friends.”

“I wonder what made her choose Arnold over Dan.” You say.

“Good dick.” Janette says. “Simple as that.”

“Oh, come on.” You roll your eyes.

“You come on! Are you going to tell me you’d give up good dick?”

“So you’re telling me she was seeing both of them at the same time, and she chose Arnold because he hit it better?”

“That’s what I’m inferring, yes.” She sips her drink. “Getting to come every time you fuck is worth it, don’t you think?”

Harry nearly chokes on his drink from laughing.

“I forgot how nasty you can be, I love it.” He says and looks at you. “So, Y/N, what’s your answer? Is an orgasm reason enough to choose one guy over another?”

“Well, considering that I dated some real fuck when I was in college just so I could get some good dick, I’d have to say yes.” You say, enjoying the look on both of their faces. “I mean, it’s hard to remember how much you can’t stand someone when they’re railing you to completion.”

“Very true.” Janette agrees. “Also, Arnold is a really sweet man, sort of the whole package for her. I don’t think Lisa liked be challenged, and Dan, I heard, would challenge her on everything.”

“I’m usually up for a debate, but I get that. I don’t need to be in control of everything, but agreeable people are better.” You say.

“I wouldn’t say it’s because he’s agreeable.” Harry says, finishing his drink, and gesturing towards the waitress for another. “Arnold is smitten, not just in love, big difference.”

“How so?” You ask.

“When you’re…oh, thank you.” He smiles at the waitress brings him a new drink. “When you’re smitten, you walk around with rose colored glasses, to some that can be a bad thing, but I think when you’re that in love, you should really adore the person you’re with too. Arnold adores Lisa, Dan doesn’t. You can tell by the way they both look at her.”

It was nice discussing things like this with people who also observed people the way you did. It makes you wonder, though, what they may have picked up on about you.

After a few more drinks, you knew you needed to stop when your vision began to get hazy. Harry only had his two drinks since he drove himself. He drank some water as the night went on.

“H, Y/N lives not too far from you, help her save a couple bucks and drive her home, would you?”

“Jan…” You scold her.

“She’s right, I could give you a lift, if you want?”

“Um…well…sure.”

You both say goodnight to Janette, and Harry helps you into his car. He keeps the music low as he pulls out of the bar.

“So, where am I taking you?”

“To The Ledges, do you know where that is?”

“Sure do.” He chuckles. “Lived there myself when I first moved to the area.”

“Really?! It’s a great size place. I love it.”

“Got any pets or anything?”

“Nope, just me, myself, and I.” You grin.

“And you prefer it that way?”

“Well, after living at home my whole life, and then having various roommates over the years, I’d say that I’m quite enjoying living alone.”

“Good for you. I’m glad you’re liking it here so much. The person you replaced was such a twat.” You burst into laughter. “I’m serious! He never came to any of the outings. It was like he didn’t even care that we were trying to get him to engage. The second he got his PhD he left. Good riddance.” Harry scoffs.

“I really like it. It’s a lot different than being at a college in the city. I wasn’t sure how I’d do working in a college town, but I’m really enjoying it. I feel safe, you know? I didn’t always feel safe in the city.”

“I’m sorry, that had to have been difficult.”

“On the late nights it was. I usually had UPD walk me to my car. I don’t really have to do that here. I feel like I gained a lot of independence back.”

Harry pulls up to the apartment building, and parks. He turns the ignition off and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“What are you doing?”

“I was going to walk you to the door…”

“Oh…you don’t have to.”

“I insist.”

“Really, it’s okay. Um, thank you for the ride, it was really nice of you.”

“Thanks for the invite, I had fun.” He smiles.

“Me too.” You smile back and get out of the car.

You hear the car turn back on, and you know he waits to drive off until you’re inside.

“Paige, I get him for Christmas, why are you trying to change things?”

“You usually get him for Christmas because you don’t usually get him for the school year.” She crosses her arms as she stands outside in the frigid early December air.

“But you just got him for Thanksgiving.”

“You don’t celebrate Thanksgiving!”

“I observe!” He takes a deep breath. “His plane ticket is already paid for, he’s coming with me to London like always, and he will be back to you for New Year’s, like always.” He steps closer to her. “He looks forward to seeing my mum and Gem every winter, please don’t take that away from him.”

“It’s just…we’re hosting a Hanukkah party, and Noah really wanted him to be a part of it…”

“Shit.” Harry rubs the back of his neck. “There’s Jewish holidays all the time, couldn’t Andy be a part of the next celebration?”

“Dad! Come on, the Pats game is starting!”

“One second, just saying bye to mum!” He yells to Andy, and looks back at Paige, eyes pleading.

“Alright…he can still go with you.”

“Thank you.” Harry breathes. “His cousins would miss him terribly.”

“I know, I’d feel terrible doing that to him. I’m just trying to balance all of this. I wanna be a good partner to Noah, and somewhat of a mother figure to Rachel, but I don’t want Andy to feel like I’m favoring them over him. He comes first, he always will.”

“I’m sure he knows that.” He puts his hand on her shoulder. “Have a latke for me, yeah?”

“Yeah.” She smiles and gives his hand a squeeze before getting back into her car.

Harry heads inside and sits on the couch while Andy sits in his usual spot on the love seat, entranced by the football game.

“What was that all about? I heard shouting.”

“Could barely hear each other over the wind outside. Nothing to worry about. We were just confirming plans for your holiday break.”

“I’m still going to London, right?”

“Of course! No question about it.”

Andy smiles at Harry before returning his attention to the TV. Harry was usually very honest with Andy, but he didn’t need to worry him with any of the drama.

“You survived your first semester, congrats!” Janette says, popping a bottle of champagne as she walks into your office.

“Not over yet, I have finals to grade.”

“Whatever, the kids are gone, that’s something to celebrate.” She nods towards the plastic cups you keep in your office, and you grab two. “Any plans for the holidays? Going home at all?”

“Oh sure. Doing the Hanukkah thing with my folks, and then doing New Year’s in Boston with some friends.”

“Fun!”

“Wait.” Harry says, overhearing, grabbing the bottle for a swig. “You’re Jewish?”

“Yes?” You raise an eyebrow at him and take a sip from your cup.

“Brilliant. Paige’s boyfriend is Jewish, and I think it’s confusing for Andy. He doesn’t much like asking th guy questions, maybe he could talk to you sometime.”

“Sure.” You shrug. “Any plans for the holidays?”

“Yeah, Andy comes home to London for Christmas, and then I send him back for New Year’s with his mum.”

“You send him on the plane alone?”

“I haven’t always, but they let me walk him right to the gate, and he flies first class, so it’s very safe. They let his mum wait at the other gate too. I like to stay home for a few weeks if I can. I’m afraid I’m a bit of a mama’s boy.” He takes another swig of the bottle. “I am not looking forward to grading these papers. I really should just have each class do a presentation, can grade those right on the spot.”

“Tell me about it.” Janette groans. “My Advanced Comp class is going to be the death of me.”

“Well, clearly this champagne is going to keep us all awake enough to get through it.”

The three of you stand there laughing. You were looking forward to the long winter break. It would give you plenty of time to work on your research, and you wouldn’t be disturbed by any students popping in and out of your office, as much as you enjoyed the chats.

It was the beginning of January, there you were, working away in your office. You had a long flowy dress on, for some reason, and your door bursts open.

“Y/N! I’ve traveled across the pond for you!”

“Harry! You’re back.”

“That’s right, darling, I’m back.” He pushes everything off your desk, walks around to your and pulls you close to him. He crashes his mouth to yours.

“Oh, Harry.” You moan.

“Oh, Y/N.” He moans back before laying you on your desk. “I’m going to make you feel so good.” He rips your dress of and kneels in front of you, diving his head between your legs.

You wake up in a cold sweat, panting. Your eyes snap open and you grimace. Your legs feel sweaty, so you kick your blankets off.

“What the fuck?” You say to yourself as you sit up. Harry was attractive, but you never once fantasized about him. You reach between your legs and gasp. “Did I just fucking have a wet dream?!” You lick at your sticky fingers and shake your head in disbelief. “Shower, go shower Y/N.” You were talking to yourself, yes, but it was needed to help you calm down.

You were incredibly embarrassed. Harry was your friend, not someone you wanted to fuck, and certainly not on your desk in your office at work. Most people would be turned off, but doing it in a professional place was a big turn off for you. The idea of getting caught was also not a turn on for you. If you were ever caught you could be fired, and it just wasn’t worth it. Neither was dating a colleague. It wasn’t against the rules or anything, nor was it frowned upon, but dating in the workplace could lead to a lot of problems. You had a PhD on the line. Maybe it was time to just suck it up and go for a one night stand.

You had forgotten all about your dream by the time the January faculty meeting hit. That is, until Harry was the last to walk in. Your face flushes immediately. His hair was a little longer, and he had a bit of scruff that he normally wouldn’t have. He smiles and says hello to a couple of people, and then sits down right next to you.

“Hi.” He whispers with a smile.

“Hello.” You swallow and don’t look at him.

“How was your-“

“Can we get started?” Lisa addresses the group. “Much to go over, we need to start talking about the fall schedule.”

You were grateful for the distraction of the discussion, but you felt Harry’s eyes burn into you every few moments. He had to have known you were acting weird, you wouldn’t fucking look at him. Even if you thought to try, you just couldn’t. Two hours later, and the meeting finally ends. You gather your things quickly and head out, and down to your office. Just as you’re able to take a deep breath, you look up and see Harry standing in your doorway, hands in his pockets, squinting at you.

“Are we good?” He asks.

“Um.” You focus on the space behind him. “Yes, why wouldn’t we be?”

“Because you refuse to look at me. Even now, you’re not really looking at me.” He shifts his weight so he’s stand up normally. “Are you mad because I didn’t reach out over break?”

“What? No! I could care less about that, it wasn’t like I reached out to you.”

“So…what is it then? You make eye contact all the time, it’s not like you to not.”

“I…” You suck both of your lips into your mouth. “It’s nothing, it’s stupid, I’m being stupid.”

“If it’s stupid then just tell me.” He comes in and sits down on your loveseat.

“Harry, please.” You shake your head and sit down in your desk chair.

“Come on, Y/N. Clearly something’s bothering you.”

“Ugh.” You groan and get up to close your door. You sit on the edge of your desk. “I…had a rather odd dream a week or so ago…”

“Okay?”

“And you were in it.” You whisper.

“What was I doing in your dream?” He whispers back.

“That’s just it, I don’t know.” You rest your chin in your palm as you cross your arms over your chest.

“Well I must have done something to make you not even look at me. Did I hurt you, do something scary?”

“No…I suppose I wouldn’t call it scary, but I was certainly disturbed when I woke up.”

“What then?” A smirk grows on his face. “Don’t tell me you had a sex dream or something.” When your face stays the way it is his smile fades. “You had a sex dream about me?” You nod yes. “Where were we?”

“Here.”

“In your office?!”

“Shh!” You swat your hands in his direction. “Do you want the building to hear?”

“You had a dream that we fucked in your office?”

“Well, it wasn’t fucking per say…you sort of…I don’t know…it doesn’t matter.”

“No tell me, let’s talk this through.”

“You wiped everything off my desk, ripped my clothes off, sat me on top, and then…” You wince slightly. “You sort of…got your head between my legs, and then I woke up.” You say the rest of it quickly. “And I was utterly concerned when I woke up because I swear I don’t see you that way, Harry. You’re my friend, just my friend. I forgot all about it, and then I saw you and got all embarrassed again.”

He stands up from his seat and gives you a shy smile.

“It was just a dream, you don’t need to be embarrassed. We’re adults, yeah? Let’s act like it.”

“I just don’t want you thinking I’m some…sex maniac or something.”

“I don’t.”

“Okay…I’m sorry if I worried you during the meeting. It really is good to see you, I’m glad you’re back. We could have lunch soon, I’d love to hear about London.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He smiles, but you can tell it’s fake.

He heads out and goes into his own office, closing the door behind him. For whatever reason, your words hurt him. Just my friend rang through his mind. It wasn’t as though it were a lie, you were just friends, but you made it clear you didn’t want him to be the one between your legs in a dream. At first he was flattered, but now…well, now he just felt sad. Was he not good enough to be the one to get you off? Even if in a dream? He hears a knock on the door.

“Yes?”

You open it slowly.

“I hurt your feelings…”

“A little.” He admits. “Not sure why, though.”

“I just didn’t want you to think I was objectifying you.”

“It was a dream, Y/N, you have zero control over it.”

“But I must have been thinking of you subconsciously, right? Isn’t that how that works?”

“Okay, so maybe you were thinking of me and maybe that got mixed in with…whatever else.”

“I just don’t want you thinking I want to fuck you, that’s all.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” He mumbles.

“You want me to want to fuck you?!”

“Now who’d being loud?!”

“Sorry…”

“It’s just, well, how would you feel if I told you I didn’t want to fuck you, you probably wouldn’t feel too great about yourself.”

“It’s not that you’re not attractive, Harry-“

“This is making it worse.” He runs his hands over his face and looks at you. “It was just a dream, nothing to worry about, okay?”

“Things won’t be weird between us?”

“No.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did in that meeting, then we wouldn’t have needed to talk about it.”

“Did you tell Janette?”

“I resent that, just because I’m close with her doesn’t mean she knows every bit of my business.”

“I just didn’t know if I should be expecting some teasing from her.”

“No, none, and you better not tease me either.”

“I won’t.” He smiles. “London was good by the way…”

“Good, I’m glad.” You smile at him. “Talk later?”

“Yeah.”

“Not that I’m not happy to be out with the two of you, but why are the three of us out to dinner?” Andy asks.

“Mum and I thought it would be nice to see what you wanted to do for your February vacation. Usually you come see me and we go skiing, but mum knows how to ski too-“

“You’re canceling our trip?!”

“No! We were just thinking mum could take you this year.”

“But it’s your cabin.”

“And I don’t mind sharing.”

“Andy…I thought it would be nice for the four of us to go together. Noah knows how to snowboard, and Rachel wants to take a skiing lesson.”

“Great, so now this going to be a huge family trip? I don’t wanna do that, Mum.” Andy groans.

“Andy.” Harry sighs. “I think Mum and I have been very accommodating to you this year. Could you please just try to help us out a little? Do you know how many kids would kill to have their parents take them on a ski trip for their breaks?”

“I’m not trying to be ungrateful, I’m sorry.” He looks down at his plate and then back up to Harry. “Can’t you still come? The house is big enough.”

“It’s not a bad idea, Har.” Paige says to him and his eyes widen.

“Would Noah and Rachel feel comfortable with that? I wouldn’t want to overstep…”

“I’ll talk to them, I can’t see either of them feeling weird about it. She refers to you as Uncle Harry as it is, and it’s your cabin, I don’t think Noah would care.”

“Would you be alright with it?”

“Sure.” She shrugs. “There’s that spare room on the other end of the house, so you could have your own space and the kids could stay in the bunk room.”

“Wait, so this is happening?” Andy perks up. “You’d really come, Dad?”

“Yeah, if it’s not weird for anyone, I’m in.”

Andy gets up from the table and moves to hug both Harry and Paige, both of them looking at each other surprised. They give each other mental high fives for being able to figure things out.

“I’m really excited now.” Andy says as he sits back down.

“Okay, now that we’ve got that out of the way…” Paige grins and looks back at one of the waitresses, giving her a nod. Happy birthday starts being sung throughout the restaurant.

“Oh my god.” Harry closes his eyes and groans. “This dinner wasn’t about me…”

“Nonsense.” She chuckles. “How often do we all get to celebrate together?”

A small cake with candles is brought over in front of Harry. The singing continues and he feels thoroughly embarrassed.

“Wanna help me blow ‘em out?” He asks Andy.

“Yeah!” He leans over and blows out the candles and the restaurant claps.

Harry looks at Paige and shakes his head. She laughs and thanks the waitresses.

“Andy, go get in Dad’s lap, I’ll take your picture together. I’ve got your gift for him in the car too, I’ll go get it.” Andy crawls into Harry’s lap, and Paige uses Harry’s phone to snap the photo. She beams when she looks at it. “You should get this one printed, it’s adorable.” She gets up and leaves to go get the gifts.

“Did you know about all this?” He says to Andy giving him a squeeze before letting him go.

“She just told me we were meeting you for dinner instead of going straight to your place.” He shrugs.

Paige returns shortly with a few cards and bags.

“Alright, this is from Rachel and Noah.”

“They didn’t have to get me anything…”

“They insisted!”

Harry takes the card out and smiles. Rachel had clearly drawn him a picture, it was cute. His smile grows wider when he takes a nail kit out of the small bag.

“I was due for one of these, I’ll have to text Noah a thank you.” Harry opens the next bag and sees a card from Andy that he also drew. In the bag was a new set of pocket squares for his suits, that he desperately needed, some bandanas, scrunchies, and a gift card to his favorite clothing store. “Went all out son, thank you.”

“Thought your…what was the word you used, Mum?”

“Wardrobe.” She chuckles.

“Yeah! Thought your wardrobe could use an update.”

“Should I be offended?” He says, raising an eyebrow.

“I think you should be happy your son has your keen eye for fashion.” She slides another card over. “That one’s from me.”

“You’ve done enough.” He says before leaning over to kiss the top of Andy’s head.

“Just open it.”

Harry rolls his eyes and opens the card. He starts laughing. There was some joke about being close co-parents, and a gift card to one of his favorite restaurants.

“Thank you.”

“More than welcome.”

Andy hugs Paige goodbye in the parking lot before hopping in the backseat of Harry’s car.

“Were you surprised, Dad?”

“Very! Thank you again for the gifts, it was very thoughtful of you.”

“I’m more excited about going skiing now.”

“Sorry if we scared you. I just wanna make sure Mum gets to see you.”

“I know.” He sighs. “Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“How come Mum has Noah, but you don��t have anyone?”

“I have you.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I just…I don’t know, I don’t have much time for dating.”

“What do you do on the weekends when I’m not with you?”

“Sometimes I see friends, or I catch up on some grading, I clean up too. You’re gonna start doing more chores, that would be the ultimate birthday gift.”

“It’s okay if you wanna date, you know…”

“I don’t exactly need your permission.” He chuckles.

“I know…but I want you to know I’m okay with it.”

“Well, I appreciate that, thanks.”

When Harry walks into his office Monday morning he’s surprised to see a vase full of flowers. There’s a small card with it:

Happy Birthday, H!

- Y/N

Harry smiles to himself and smells the flowers, he couldn’t believe you remembered. He only mentioned it once when his birthday was. Thirty-two was off to a great start. He hangs his jacket up and gets his computer set up. His first class wasn’t until 9AM, so he had some time to prep and wake up a bit more before heading to the lecture hall. He sees you walk by on your way to your office.

“Oh! You’re here!” You had two coffees in your hands. “My gift wasn’t complete yet.” You walk in and hand him his coffee. “Black coffee.” You smile.

“Thank you, the flowers are lovely.”

“Not that I thought you needed more plants in here.” You joke. Harry had a fuck ton of plants in his office windowsill.

“Well excuse me for enjoying nature.” He scoffs, and takes a sip of his coffee. You sit down on the couch in his office.

“Did you have a good weekend?”

“I did, Paige and I took Andy out to dinner to talk about his February break, and it turned into a little surprise birthday thing, it was nice. Can’t remember the last time we did something like that as a family. I mean, we have shared birthday parties for him and stuff, but I think he enjoys when it’s just the three of us.”

“If you don’t mind me asking…did he ever know the two of you as a couple?”

“No.” Harry sighs. “I think he was almost two when she and I called it quits. Now look at us, we’re all going on a ski trip together, including her boyfriend and his daughter.”

“That won’t be weird?”

“Not really, I’ve known Noah a while.”

“How long have they been together?”

“Well, they’ve been a couple for almost three years, but they were friends beforehand. He’s one of the lawyers at the office she works at. He came on, like, a year after she and I split, they were friends for a while, and I think once he knew she and I weren’t getting back together he made his move.” Harry shrugs. “No skin off my nose, I just wanted her to be happy. His daughter Rachel is as cute as a button too.” He takes another sip of his coffee. “Poor thing, her mum died in a car accident when she was really little. Paige is a great mum, so it was a good fit for everyone I think. The only thing I don’t love is that Noah is, like, almost forty.”

“How old is Paige?”

“Almost thirty-four, so it’s not super weird, but…I think that’s another reason why he waited to ask her out, you know?”

“I’m surprised he doesn’t have his own cabin to take her too.”

“Nope, just a massive house on the lake.” Harry chuckles and looks at his flowers again. “Thank you again for these, it was a nice surprise.”

“Oh, don’t mention it.” She sips her own coffee and gets up to go to her own office.

“How’d you know I’d like these?”

“Everyone likes getting flowers, Harry.” She smiles and leaves.

Harry had cancelled his classes during the week of Andy’s February break like he always did. He had forum posts for them to work in in his absence. Going to the cabin wasn’t ask awkward as he thought, and it was good bonding for Rachel and Andy. Harry, Noah, and Paige could hear the two of them giggling as they watched movies at night, it was sweet. Harry mostly stuck with skiing with Andy during the day, and he and Paige took him for a run or two as well. As Andy got older co-parenting got easier, for whatever reason. Any lingering feelings between Harry and Paige had simply fizzled into a normal friendship. There was no malice between them which was good for Andy to see.

“Uncle Harry?” Rachel asks one night at dinner.

“Yes, love?”

“How come you have an accent, but Andy doesn’t?”

“Because Andy wasn’t born and raised in a country where people sound like me. Although sometimes you sound like me when you’ve been around me a lot.” Harry looks at Andy.

“My friends tease me for how I say pasta sometimes.” He chuckles. “I say that like you.”

“It’s true! You say taco like Dad too. It’s pretty funny.”

“Well, those are my two favorite foods so it makes sense.”

“How come you have so many tattoos?” Rachel asks.

“Honey, tattoos can be really personal.” Noah explains.

“It’s alright, I got a lot of them when I was younger. Think my last one was when Andy was born, got his initials my forearm.” He extends his arm out.

“Harry.” Paige clears her throat, nodding towards his mermaid tattoo and shakes her head no.

“Oop! Sorry.” He blushes. “Sometimes I forget she’s there.” He chuckles.

“Can we paint nails after dinner, Uncle Harry?” Rachel pleads.

“Sure! Brought that nail kit you and Dad so nicely got for me.”

“Yay! It’s okay, right, Daddy?”

“Of course, princess.” Noah says lovingly towards his daughter.

After dinner, Harry sits with Rachel at the kitchen table, to not make a mess, while Paige, Noah, and Andy sit in the living room watching TV. On the outside looking in the scene may be odd, but this was working well for all of them. Andy was having a good time and that was all Harry cared about.

It was a Thursday night, you both swiped right, and you met him at a bar. After a few drinks you climbed into the backseat of his car and before you knew it you were bouncing up and down on his dick while he pressed hot kisses to your neck. His name was Gabriel, and he was just what you needed right now. Or he would have been if he had been able to last a moment longer. You were so close, and he came into the condom before you had a chance to have your own release. He didn’t even ask if you got yours, he just kissed your cheek and lifted you off him.

“Care to take this back to my place?” He says.

“Think I’ve had enough for one night, thanks.” You say as you button your pants back up.

“Let me at least drive you home.”

“No, that’s okay, I can take an uber.” You get out of his car and slam the door shut. He gets out and looks at you, you turn around and look at him.

“Another time?”

“No, I don’t think so.” You say bluntly and his face falls.

“Thought we just had a nice time.”

“You had a nice time because you got to finish.” You huff as you fix your jacket. You take your phone out and order your ride.

“Thought you did, my bad.”

“Right.” The car pulls up, and you get in.

This is why you hated doing things like this. Men on these dating apps just wanted to get theirs. They just wanted a place to stick it and they didn’t care if you were left satisfied or not. You take a nice, long shower when you get back, scrubbing the smell of Gabriel away from you. You grimace when you see the kiss mark he left on your collar bone. Luckily a shirt and scarf would cover it, and it didn’t look like it would last longer than a couple of days anyways.

“Well, were you being vocal about what you needed?” Janette asks you as she sits on the edge of your desk Monday morning.

“I said things like right there or like that…he didn’t even warn me that he was coming, he just did. Then he wanted me to come back to his place with him…”

“Maybe he would have put on a better show for you.”

“The previews certainly didn’t leave me wanting to see more.”

“Preview for what.” Harry says, peeping his head in. He had a slight tan from skiing, and it was sort of cute.

“Y/N saw a really bad preview for this movie about this loser, that’s all.” Janette says. “How was your week away?”

“Actually, not too bad. I think it was good for us to all do something together. Andy had a great time, that’s all I cared about. He even agreed to be with his mum for the entire April vacation.”

“Oh? What’s she going to take him to do?” You ask.

“They’re gonna go to New York to see some shows, I thought it was a great idea. It’ll be good for him to get some real culture.”

“And that’s not a trip you wanted to join in on?” Janette smirks.

“Hmm, large cabin where I have my own space or cramped hotel room?” He weighs his option. “I’ll take the bitter cold and the cabin, thanks.”

“What do you think you’ll do while he’s away?” You ask.

“No idea, I’ve got time to figure it out. Honestly, it’s perfect timing because that’s right during advising weeks so I’ll actually be able to help my students without him sitting in the corner complaining that he’s bored.” He rolls his eyes. “I don’t what’s gonna turn my hair grey first, him or the college students.”

“Oh please.” Janette groans. “Men look so much better with a little grey, makes you look distinguished, it’s us who look like old crones when we let our greys out. I don’t wanna hear it.” She shakes her head and looks at her watch. “Gotta get ready for my next class, so you later.”

“Is it true?”

“What?”

“Do men look better with a little grey.” He runs a hand through his hair.

“Depends on the guy, I think. I mean, I’m twenty-six so a little grey wouldn’t scare me away, but I’m not exactly looking for a silver fox.” You laugh and so does he.

“I missed your sense of humor last week. As good of a time it was, I felt like I had to be very careful about the jokes I cracked.”

“Well, no need for a filter here.”

Harry nods and goes into his own office. He thinks for a moment and then peeps his head back into yours.

“So, what movie preview did you see that you didn’t like?”

“What?”

“When I first came in, you and Jan were talking about-“

“Oh! Um, it was so bad I don’t even remember the name.” You tug slightly at your scarf out of nerves.

“Too bad, I could’ve searched it and had a good laugh.” He shrugs and leaves again.

Sometimes you wondered what Harry’s dating life was like, not that it was any of your business. He had mentioned a couple of times he didn’t make a lot of time for it, but what about one night stands? Did he make sure women got theirs when he was with them?

“I’m going to look like a fucking idiot compared to all of you.” You pout as you get your robe and hood on.

“You will not. Sort of miss the master’s robe, honestly, they’ve basically got pockets. You’ll have your doctoral one soon enough.” Harry says, putting on his own robes.

“I can never get this thing right, could you help me?”

“Of course.” He steps behind you and adjusts the blue hood for you.

“Do I need the cap? It’s just an honor’s ceremony.”

“You certainly do, and get used to it. This is one of three times a year you’ll need to put this on.”

“Three?”

“Grad commencement and undergrad commencement are separate ceremonies.”

“And we have to go to both?”

“We do.” He sighs. “You’re also not the only professor on this campus that isn’t a PhD yet, so don’t get down on yourself, yeah? You’re working towards it.” You turn towards him and his hands place gently on your shoulders.

“Thanks, Har.”

He smiles at the nickname and lets go of you. You and the other CM professors head over to the CM Honors Inductee Ceremony. It was a nice event for the honors students within the major. As soon as it ends you rip your cap off. You didn’t enjoy wearing it at all. You mingle with a few parents and take pictures with some of the students that wanted you in their photos.

“Y/N?” One of your students, Kayla, says.

“Yes?”

“I was wondering…for our final assignment, instead of writing you a paper about signs, could I make you a video instead?” She was in your Rhetoric and Semiotics class.

“Hmm, I think that could be really interesting. What would a video entail?”

“Well, I thought I could go to the grocery store and show unwritten rules, like how someone will put a divider down on the belt without having to be asked, or how when you go up to the deli you just grab a ticket, how branding works, stuff like that.”

“As long as you still send me a references page I think that could be fine. Of course, I’d have to show it to the rest of the class.”

“Deal.” She smiles. “Thanks.” You nod and then she walks away.

You head back to your office to hang your robe and hood up in your closet. You grab your back and smack right into your Harry.

“Jesus.” You say and back away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even see you.”

“No, that was me, I was walking too fast.” He unzips his robe and hangs it up same as you in his own closet.

“Why were you in such a hurry?”

“Single mum at the ceremony got a little too liberal with the hugging, had to get out of there.” He chuckles. “You hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“Wanna go down to the pub? I don’t have Andy’s still in New York…”

“Sure! That sounds great, actually. Let me just drop all this off in my car.” He nods and you both walk down to the parking lot before walking the rest of the way to the pub.

You both sit down at the bar and order drinks. You both end up getting Mediterranean wraps, not feeling quite hungry enough for nachos this time around.

“Any summer plans yet? I know it’s early, but-“

“Paige and I need to sit down with Andy to figure all that out. He got to stay with me all year, so it would be make sense for him to be with her for the summer, but I have a feeling he won’t like that. School gets out in June for him so I’ve got some time…but I have a feeling it’s not going to be easy.”

“Why do you think he wants to be with you so much more?”

“I just think he’s at an age where maybe he feels more comfortable being with me. He’ll be eleven soon, changes are starting to happen.” He chuckles. “Maybe Paige and I could split up the summer or something.”

“How have his grades been? Wasn’t that part of the deal?”

“His marks have been great, he’s doing well. He has some great friends and he loves his teachers. He really enjoyed playing basketball this winter in the town league too.”

“Not that I’m an expert on custody agreements, but couldn’t you do what you’re doing now? Wednesdays and every other weekend with Paige, and the rest of the time with you?”

“He hates the back and forth in the summer, that’s why we agreed on summers with me. I mean, she still sees him in the summer, obviously, but he usually doesn’t have to go every other weekend. We’ll see.” He sighs. “We try to give him what he wants to not make waves, but at the end of the day we’re the parents and he’s the child and what we say goes.” He finishes off his drink and asks for another. “Need a refill?”

“Sure, I could probably handle two.” You shrug.

Two turned into three, then, four, and finally five. The sun had gone down and it was dark outside. You two had split a chocolate lava cake. The bar was starting to fill with college students.

“Holy shit, it’s almost ten!” You say. “Should probably go before some of these kids try to buy me a drink for a passing grade.” Harry laughs at that and agrees. You split the bill, and nearly lose your balance as you hop off the bar stool, clutching as his bicep.

“Wanna split an uber? I can’t drive, and I don’t think you can either.” He chuckles.

“Yeah, good idea. I’ll order it.”

“No, I’ve got it.” He takes his phone out as you both head outside. The car pulls up after a couple of minutes and you both get in. “We’ll drop you off first.”

“Alright.” You smile. “This was fun tonight. I like when we get to hang out.”

“Me too.” He smiles at you. “Can’t believe your first year is almost done.”

“I know, it’s really flown by.” You crane your neck from side to side and sigh. “Maybe now that I know the area better I’ll feel more comfortable trying to really meet someone.”

“Meet someone for what?” You look up at him, making a face as if the answer is obvious. “Oh! That’s cute you think you have time for a relationship.” He laughs.

“Excuse me?”

“Y/N, you spend all your free time on your research.”

“I just spent some free time with you, didn’t I? Janette and I go out, and-“

“Janette travels with Sadie in the summers.”

“Guess that leaves me stuck with you then.” You nudge him. “Actually, I’m hoping to go to Boston for a bit, visit friends and family. I’m hoping to get to the beach too. I love summer.”

“You should come hiking with me. Despite the black flies, May is great because it’s not humid yet.”

“Might have to take you up on that, I really enjoyed it this fall.” The car pulls up in front of your house. “Have a good night, Harry.”

“You too.” You both reach over and hug each other. “See you Monday.”

“See you Monday.” You smile and get out.

Once the school year was over, you sat with Lisa and went over your course evaluations. Overall you did really well, and she reaffirmed how happy she was that she hired you. She wishes you a happy summer, and that’s about it. You ask if you’re allowed to use your office in the summer, and she says yes but it gets really hot so it’s not as great as you may think.

Saturday night as you’re having your last girl’s night with Janette you get a text.

Harry: Hey! Know it’s last minute, but I’m taking Andy up Rattlesnake tomorrow morning, care to join?

Y/N: sure! As long as he doesn’t mind…

Harry: got his permission already, we’re all set ;)

You bite your bottom lip and smile, and Janette peaks over your shoulder to see what you could be smiling at.

“God, what a gift it would be if I come back in the fall and you two are dating.”

“Oh, stop.” You nudge her. “We’re friends.”

“Would it be bad to be more?”

“I don’t really think it’s a good idea to go out with someone you work with…”

“Good luck finding anyone else who’s decent around here then.”

“I could meet someone in Boston, do the long distance thing.”

“That gets old.”

“You’re doing it!”

“Yeah, but I’m more of a free spirit. Sadie and I don’t care about marriage or kids or a house in the hills. You, my sweet friend, would like all of those things.”

“True…” You finish your drink. “Well, if I don’t want to puke on this hike tomorrow I should probably get going.” You both stand and hug and kiss and wish each other fantastic summers.

You get a restful night’s sleep, and get yourself ready in the morning. You had invested in a pair of hiking boots in the fall, so you were feeling prepared. You put on a pair of spandex shorts, and put on some mesh shorts over those. You opt for a sweat resistant short sleeve shirt, and pull your ponytail through a baseball cap. You get everything in your small pack that you’ll need: sunglasses, sunscreen, water bottle, granola bar, rag, and bug spray. You drive out to the trail and park, lathering your arms and legs with sunscreen. You see Harry’s car pull up, and Andy hops out, bandana and clip keeping his hair back, just like Harry’s. Harry had a sleeveless shirt on and you could really see the definition in his shoulder muscles. You put your sunglasses on and head over to them.

“Morning, boys.” You smile.

“Morning.” Harry smiles back.

“Hi, Y/N.” Andy mumbles shyly.

“Hi, Andy. Dad told me you’re doing well in school. Bet you’re about ready to be done, huh?”

“Yeah, only a few more weeks.”

“Can’t believe he’s going into sixth grade. Makin’ me feel old.”

“You are old.” Andy giggles.

“Mhm, thanks.” Harry rolls his eyes. “Let’s get going, shall we?”

Andy walks a few paces ahead of you and Harry.

“His birthday is soon, yeah?”

“Yeah, next weekend, actually…um…Paige is hosting his party this year.” Andy looks back at Harry making a face, and Harry makes a face back at him.

“That’ll be fun.” You say, not noticing the exchange as you look at the various trees surrounding you.

“Yeah…it will be. Um…it’s Saturday afternoon…”

“Weather looking good?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s great. Probably still cold to swim at the lake, though, right?”

“Yeah, but the kids will still have a water balloon fight.”

“Dad, just ask her!” Andy groans as he turns around again.

“Ask me what?”

“He wants you to go with him to the party.”

“Andy!” Harry snaps at him. “Keep walking.”

Andy rolls his eyes and continues to walk ahead of you.

“Is that true, you want me to come?”

“Is that weird?”

“Not really.” You shrug. “Although, I’d only know you and Andy.” You chuckle.

“See…it’s just…Paige’s parents will be there, and that’s fine, but Noah’s parents are coming too, and it would be nice to have a buffer other than my son. He’ll be off playing games and eating junk good, I don’t want him to think he needs to babysit me…”

“I totally get it. I don’t think I have plans, I could go for a little while.”

“Really? I’m not asking too much?”

“Not at all, what are friends for?” You smile and he smiles back.

You walk a few paces ahead of Harry, but still behind Andy, giving Harry the perfect view of your bum in your shorts. He wasn’t staring, but he certainly wasn’t not looking. When you get up to the top your jaw drops. The view of the mountains and the lakes were even better in the late spring. You snap a few photos, taking one of Harry and Andy, Harry taking one of you looking out, and then you all sit down for some water and snacks.

“Andy, do you enjoy hiking with your Dad?”

“Yeah, it’s a lot of fun. We go a lot over the summer.”

“Andy’s hiked two of the 4,000 footers, hoping to get a couple more done this summer.”

“Wow! That’s incredible.”

“You should come with us, Y/N. We’re going to camp overnight at one of them.”

“Oh, you don’t wanna go camping with me, I’m a real snob. I need running water and indoor plumbing.”

“It has that.” Harry says, taking a sip of his water. “There’s bathroom, no shower or anything, but working toilets. You bring all your own camping gear. It’s pretty cool.”

“I’ll consider it. Think I should probably go on hikes that are longer than a mile up.” You laugh.

“You guys can do during the week now that school’s over, right?” Andy says.

“I wouldn’t want to exclude you, Andy.” You smile.

“Don’t worry about me.” He crunches down on his granola bar. He shares another look with Harry, but again it goes unnoticed by you, too busy looking out at the beauty of the mountains and lakes.

You all hike down the mountain in not time and say your goodbyes. Harry tells you he’ll text you with more details about the party later in the week.

“I told you she’d say yes.” Andy says from the backseat of the car.

“I wish you had let me work up to it a little more.”

“You were taking too long. Sometimes you just need to pull the trigger, Dad.”

“Is that so?” Harry laughs. “Things are a little more complicated at my age. Sort of awkward asking a colleague out on a date.”

“If you two are friends does that make it a date?”

“Well, she’ll be attending with me, so that makes her my date.”

“Does that mean you’ll kiss her goodnight?”

“Andy!” Harry looks back for a moment and then gets his eyes back on the road. “No, I’m not going to kiss her. You heard her, what are friends for, that’s all she sees me as.” He sighs to himself.

“That’s why you need to step up your game.”

“Son, do me a favor?”

“Yeah?”

“Just, shut up for the rest of the drive home.”

Andy bursts out laughing, but does as Harry asks, knowing he’s being a bit annoying.

It was a beautiful day on Saturday, but you were worried about being cold out by the water, so you opt for a pair of high-waist jean capris that flare a bit at the bottom. You find a sleeveless white blouse and pair it with a blue cardigan. You put your hair up in your two buns, and throw on a pair of wedges.

Harry: I’m outside

“Shit.” You say, just finishing your makeup. You run around, grabbing your purse, and the box you had wrapped for Andy’s gift, and head out.

You open the passenger seat and get settled, smiling at Harry.

“You didn’t have to get him anything.”

“I know, it’s just a new basketball. I saw it at WalMart when I was picking up a card. I hate showing up to these things empty handed. What did you get him?”

“A new bike.” He grins. “It’s in his mum’s garage already.”

“Oh! He’ll be so excited. He skateboard too right?”

“Yeah, I really don’t know where he gets his coordination from. Other than skiing I’m pretty clumsy.”

“Don’t you go to a boxing gym?”

“Yeah, and I look like a proper oaf.” He laughs and looks at you. “You look nice by the way. Your outfits are always so put together.”

“Oh, um, thanks.” You blush slightly. You wanted to tell him that you did your hair the way you did because you know he sort of likes it, but you thought that might be a weird thing to say. “Does, um, Paige know you’re bringing me?”

“She does.” Harry nods. “You’re not, like, nervous to meet her are you?”

“No.” You scoff. “Why would I be?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “What did you say to her about me?”

“Well, before I got a chance to say anything last night when she picked Andy up, he spilled the beans.” He rolls his eyes. “So I told her you’re a friend from work…is that okay?”

“Yeah, that’s what I am so it makes sense.” You drum your fingers on top of the box to the beat of the music. “None of your family will be there?”

“They’re going to FaceTime in for it. They came for his tenth birthday since it’s a bit more sentimental.”

“Do you miss them?”

“Oh sure, but I love here too much to go back permanently. I like going during winter break, that’s enough.”

“You don’t go during the summer?”

“Sometimes I do and sometimes I don’t. Sometimes they come to visit here during the summer too. My sister has two kids of her own so it’s not always easy to travel.” You nod your head. “You know, I’ve known you almost a year and I don’t know a thing about your family.”

“What’s there to know? My parents are still together, somehow, I’ve got an older brother who’s a sous chef at a restaurant in Boston. He’s not married, but he has a partner and he’s just lovely. I usually stay with them if I go home for a visit.”

“That’s great! How much older is he?”

“He’s around your age, actually, so not a huge age difference.”

“And when’s your birthday?”

“Beginning of August.” You grin.

“Wow, so you had just turned twenty-six when you came to us.”

“Pretty much, got hired at twenty-five, not too shabby.”

“Not at all.”

The conversation went on for the entire drive. That’s how it always was with you two, always a lot to talk about. When you get out of the car you’re able to get a good look at Harry’s outfit. His outfits were usually well crafted, you’d call his style dad-chic. He was in a pair of tan slacks that he had cuffed at the bottom, a pair of white loafers to go with them, a white tank top tucked in with a floral open short-sleeve button up. Very handsome. You smile at each other and then he leads you around back to where the party was. You weren’t the first people there, but you weren’t the last either.

“Dad!” Andy exclaims and runs over to you both. Harry picks him up and swings him around before setting him down.

“Happy birthday, kiddo.”

“Thanks! Look, all my friends from school came.” He points over to them. Harry recognizes Brandon and his father out of the bunch.

“That’s great, bud, let us come in and say hi to everyone, can you say hi to Y/N?”

“Hi, thanks for coming.” He gives you a surprising hug.

“Oh! You’re welcome, Andy. Happy birthday.”

He runs back over to his friends and you walk further into the backyard. It was stunning. Grass that led to sand that led to the lake water. A boat parked further down by the docks, and just gorgeous views for miles. The house itself was huge, you couldn’t believe it.

“Harry!” A woman, who you would assume is Paige, comes waking over. She was beautiful. Shoulder length blonde hair, sort of thin, but not quite a stick. She was wearing a yellow sundress. Her and Harry share a slight hug. “He’s eleven.” She pouts.

“He’s eleven.” Harry agrees with a sigh. “Oh, this is Y/N. Y/N this is Paige, Andy’s mum.”

“It’s so nice to meet you.” She says to you. “Let me take that for you, thank you for bringing him something. I’ll put this with the others.” She takes the box from you. “There’s wine and beer for the adults if you like, but we also have soda and water if you’re not up for drinking. I certainly had a glass after my folks showed up.”

“Did your mother put her white glove on and see if there was any dust?” Harry teases her.

“She may as well have.” Paige rolls her eyes.

Harry puts his hand on the small of your back and leads you closer into the party.

“This is a lovely home.”

“Oh, thank you. I sort of inherited it. It’s was my grandparents’.” She sets your gift on the table with the others. “There’s snacks inside and outside. Feel free to hangout wherever.”

“Where exactly are your parents?” Harry asks.

“Up on the deck.” Paige points up towards it. “Feel free to avoid them as long as you like. They’re speaking with Noah’s parents at the moment. My sister should be here soon.” She looks at her watch. “I’m gonna go check on some things.”

“Alright, love, thanks.” They smile at each other. You get a bad taste in your mouth hearing him call her love, for whatever reason. “Wanna meet some of the parents. I know that guy, Ed, the best. He’s Brandon’s dad, Andy’s best friend.”

“Sure.” You nod and Harry leads you over. “I never quite understood why some parents stay at kids parties.”

“Well…look around you, wouldn’t you wanna hang for a bit?”

“Got me there.”

“Harry, hi.” Ed shakes Harry’s hand.

“Good to see you, this is my friend Y/N, we work together at the university.”

“Hi.” You shake his hand.

“Great to meet you. Brandon was so excited when he got the invite. He and Andy get along so well.” The three of you watch them and the other kids playing tag.

“Born to be friends I’d say.” Harry says.

“Uncle Harry!” A young girl comes running over to Harry and he picks her up, kissing her check, and then setting her down.

“Hi, Rachel, can you say hello to my friend Y/N?”

“Hello.” She beams up at you, a couple of teeth missing. “My grammy and grampy are here.”

“Are they?” Harry says.

“Mhm, I love them a lot.”

“I’m sure they love you too, sweetheart. Are you having a good time for Andy’s birthday?”

“Yeah! We’re going to have a water balloon toss soon.”

“Oh, that’ll be fun!”

“Daddy said he’d be on my team for it.”

“Well, that’s good.”

She smiles again and then runs off.

“Your ex’s boyfriend’s daughter calls you Uncle Harry?” You ask.

“Yeah…she sort of started doing that on her own. She knows I’m Andy’s dad, but I don’t think it quite registers with her yet how we’re all mixed together.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“A glass of white would be great, thank you.” Harry nods and leaves you standing with Ed.

“So, how long have you and H known each other?”

“Well, I started working at the university last August, so less than a year. We’re office neighbors.”

“Ah, how nice. He’s a really great guy, isn’t he? I coach the boys’ basketball team and he was the first to sign up for snack duty.”

“He’s definitely always thinking of others.”

“How long have you been seeing each other?”

“Oh, um, we’re not.” You shake your head. “He just asked me to come with him, ex in laws, you know?”

“Shit, I’m sorry for just assuming.”

“It’s alright.” You assure him. Harry comes over with a glass of wine for you and a bottle of beer for him.

“Sorry that took a moment, I ran into Noah inside and had to do the hellos. Still managed to not bump into Paige’s parents though, so that’s good.” He chuckles, taking a sip from his drink.

“Bad blood?” You ask.

“Even though things between Paige and I are perfectly fine, in their eyes, I’m always going to be the guy that got her pregnant and didn’t make an honest woman out of her.”

“That’s annoying.”

“Very.”

An hour or so passes and then Paige announces that the balloon toss will be beginning soon.

“Dad, be my partner?”

“You got it, buddy. Mind holding my drink?” He says to you.

“Not at all, have fun.” You smile.

More people had come down off the deck so they could watch. Some parents partnered with their kids, and other kids just partnered with kids. Everyone starts about a foot apart. This should be fun, you think, knowing Harry’s competitive nature.

“Would you look at Harry, he looks like an old man from Florida.” You hear a woman scoff.

“Notice how he’s been avoiding us, always a child.” You hear a man say, and this makes you turn towards them. They must be Paige’s parents.

Everyone playing was further apart now, some balloons had popped, but Harry and Andy were still in the game. The balloon pops at Rachel’s feet and she giggles loudly. There were only a few people now. You watch as Harry lobs the balloon perfectly to Andy, and Andy catches it with ease. It was Brandon and his dad vs. Harry and Andy now. Brandon overthrows it, causing the balloon to pop on the sand.

“We won!” Andy shouts running towards Harry.

“Great job.” Harry jostle’s Andy’s hair. Everyone cheers for them.

“What do you say, honey, cake and gifts now?” Paige asks Andy.

“Yeah.” He smiles.

All of the kids sit around a large glass table while Paige goes inside to get the cake. Harry walks back towards you and you hand him his beer.

“What were you saying about you have no coordination?”

“I had to win, it’s his birthday.” He laughs and then stops when he sees Paige’s parents. “Lydia, Nathan, how are you?”

“Oh, are you speaking with us now?” Lydia says playfully, giving him a hug. Harry shakes Nathan’s hand.

“You know how it is when you first get to a party, lots of excitement. I’d find you eventually.” He clears his throat. “This is Y/N, we work together at the university.”

“Hello.” You smile and they both look you up and down.

“How nice for you to bring a friend.” Nathan says, his tone laced with sarcasm.

“I’m gonna go see if she needs help with the cake.” Harry says to all of you, and you also decide to move away from the rude people you were standing with.

Paige and Harry stand on either side of Andy’s chair as everyone sings happy birthday. After cake the gifts come out. Noah takes Harry into the garage to grab the bike.

“Alright…this one is from…Y/N!” Paige says brightly as she hands the gift to Andy. He tears the wrapping paper off and gasps.

“Alright! A new basketball, thank you!” Andy says looking in your direction and you nod with a smile.

“Okay, Andy, Dad and I got you something really special.” Paige says pointing over to Harry who was wheeling the bike over. Andy’s jaw drops.

“Are you serious?!” He stand up and walks over to the bike.

“Know you’ve been wanting it for a while, and your grades have just been so good this year, we just had to do it. Mum’s got a new helmet, elbow and knee pads for you in the house.”

“Thank you so much!” He hugs Harry and then he hugs Paige.

“You’re more than welcome, baby doll.” Paige says to him and then he squirms away from her.

“Mum.” He huffs.

“Right, sorry, not in front of your friends.”

Paige’s sister helps her clean up the remains of the cake while the kids continue to play yard games. You find yourself sitting in a lawn chair when a man you have yet to meet takes the chair next to you, but you recognize him as Rachel’s father.

“We haven’t gotten to meet yet, I’m Noah.” He shakes your hand.

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” He smiles. “I was happy to hear Harry was bringing someone with him. Takes a bit of the pressure off.”

“Exactly.” You nod.

“How’d you meet?”

“We’re office neighbors, I started working at the university less than a year ago.”

“Oh! Right, you went hiking with them last weekend.” He says in understanding. “Andy told us. He’s quite the gossip.”

You observe Noah as he speaks. His hair has turned to salt and pepper, definitely had crow’s feet, also wore glasses, but he had a warm and inviting smile, similar to his daughter’s.

“He certainly speaks his mind.” You chuckle. “He’s very sweet though, I have to say.”

“Very sweet. He’s a good kid. It’s nice for Rach to have someone to grow up with a little She adores him, definitely sees him as a big brother.”

“That’s good. I’ve always found blended families to be interesting. You all are doing it well.”

“Took us a while to get to this point, but it’s all been worth it.”

“Y/N?” You both turn to look at Harry. “Party’s starting to dissipate a bit, are you about ready to head out?”

“Sure!” You stand up. “It was nice talking to you.”

“Same here.” Noah stands up and gives Harry a thumbs up without you seeing.

You both say your goodbyes, Andy gives you another hug and says thank you again for the gift. Harry tells him he’ll see him Sunday night, and then you head to his car.

“Hope you didn’t mind when I had to leave to chat a couple of times.”

“Oh, it was fine. I enjoyed just hanging out. It was a beautiful day.” The sun was just starting to set.

“Yeah, I’m glad the weather was nice. I think it’s supposed to rain tomorrow.” He looks at you and then gets his attention back on the road. “You really did look nice today.”

“Thank you, Harry.” You smile and give his shoulder a squeeze.

“Am I…taking you straight home?”

You blink a couple of times before looking at him.

“Where else would we go?”

“Well, I’ve got a back deck of my own. We could sit out, enjoy the sunset…if you want.”

“That sounds nice, actually. Yeah, let’s do that.” You smile.

“Great.”

You notice his jaw and shoulders relax. Were you making him tense? You both listen to the music on the radio as he drives you to his home. You smile as he pulls up. It was a decent size ranch. Cream color paneling and red shutters, very cute.

“Here were are.” He says awkwardly as you both get out.

“Do I get a tour?”

“Of course!”

He unlocks the front door and leads you inside. There was an open concept kitchen and living area. The house smelled like fresh coffee. He noticed you taking a whiff.

“I have an automatic air freshener.” He says and you nod.

“I like it, should get one for my place.”

“There’s a full bath down the hall, Andy uses that, and then I have my own bathroom. Three bedrooms totally, and then you can see I technically have two levels, that’s what I use for my office.”

“It’s a huge loft.”

“Yeah, it’s partially why I bought the place. I didn’t feel cramped. Basement’s partially finished which will be great for Andy when he’s over if he wants to have parties or whatever. Uh, and then the deck is this way. Can I get you anything…I only have red wine, I know you like white…”

“Red’s fine, maybe just put an ice cube in it for me?”

“Can do, make yourself comfortable outside.” He smiles.

You slide the glass door open and smile. It was a decent sized deck. There was a small glass round table with chairs, a grill, and some Adirondack chairs as well. You sit in one of those after taking a glance at the flowers and plants he had in pots. You also notice the various flower beds he had in the yard.

“Here you go.” He says, sitting down next to you, handing you the glass of wine.

“Thank you.” You smile and take a sip. You cross your cardigan over yourself.

“Are you cold? I can get a blanket.”

“Oh, no I’m fine, thanks. It’s beautiful out here.”

“Thanks, took me a while to get it landscaped the way I like.” He lights the citronella candle on the small table between you to help keep any bugs away. “I’ve been thinking of getting an above ground pool for Andy, he loves to swim, but it’s a lot maintenance, and his mum as the lake right there.”

“That house is incredible.”

“Noah’s helped her revamp it quite a bit, and the boat’s his.” He takes a sip of his drink and looks at you. “Thanks again for coming today.”

“Of course, I had a really good time.” You smile.

“You’re not just saying that?”

“Not at all. It was nice to finally meet the people you’ve told me so much about.”

“Are you hungry or anything? I could bring some-“

“Harry.” You put your hand over his that was resting on the arm of the chair. “Relax, yeah? I’m all set, thank you.”

“Alright.” He blushes and looks straight ahead. You notice him check an app on his phone. “Are you free Tuesday morning?”

“I think so, why?”

“Weather’s looking good, how about we go on one of those longer hikes?”

“I’d like that.” You smile. “Anything special I’d need to back.”

“Just a lunch, maybe some T.P.”

“You’re funny if think I’m going to take a piss in the woods.”

“Everyone does it.” He shrugs. “Don’t worry, I’d keep lookout for you.”

“You men have it so easy, you can just whip your things out, go quick, and you’re all set. Me, I’d have to roll my pants down, squat, hope none of it got on my shoes, wipe, and then get dressed again.”

“I’ve had to do that before, sometimes you just need to take a shit in the woods.” You burst out laughing at that. “Course that only happened because I went out drinking the night before.”

“Good to know.” You wipe a tear from your eye. “But seriously, I’d love to go hiking with you Tuesday.”

“I know it was more so Andy that invited you on our little camping trip, but you’re welcome to join in on that if you feel comfortable.”

“I would just feel like I’m intruding on your quality time.”

“You wouldn’t be, he likes you…um…I like you.” Your head snaps in his direction and your eyebrows shoot up. “I mean, like, I like hanging out with you, is all.” He was internally cringing at himself.

“I like hanging out with you too.” You swallow. “I’m glad we’ve gotten to know each other so well. You’ve been a great help with my classes. You’re so progressive, not always using the same syllabus and being willing to make things work for the students. It’s refreshing.”

“Please, go on, the narcissist within me is loving it.” He smirks and you roll your eyes. “Don’t sell yourself short, you’re doing really well. I enjoyed observing your rhetoric class. It was a nice refresher. I hope you won’t work yourself to much this summer. I know it’s more time for research and writing, but it’s also time for you to clear your head.”

“Thanks, I’ll try to keep that in mind.” You finish off your wine just as the sun it setting, the light from the candle being the only thing to keep things bright enough to see.

“I can, uh, bring you home now if you want.”

“I could just get an uber so you don’t have to go out again.”

“Don’t be silly, it’s no trouble.”

Harry drives you home, and you find yourself lingering in the car.

“So…Tuesday?”

“Tuesday.” He smiles. “Bright and early.”

“How early?” You raise an eyebrow.”

“How’s six sound? I’ll come pick you up, we’ll get to the trailhead by 6:30. It’s always better to summit earlier in the day.”

“You’re the expert.” You shrug. “Works for me.”

You both lean across the console to give each other a hug a goodbye, like you normally would, only this time…you press your lips to his cheek before getting out of the car. His gaze stays fixed on you, and it’s not until you’re inside your building where he lightly presses his fingers to his cheek to feel where you kissed him.

#harry styles #office neighbors #harry styles series #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #professor!harry #singledad!harry #professor!y/n

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fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years ago

Text

Part of the Family

Enzo St. John x Mikaelson! Reader

Part 1 of 4

Words: 2621

Summary: After leaving the Armory, Enzo is devastated to find that his family was a group of thieves and liars. Determined to help your boyfriend through this, you come up with a wildly romantic solution.

Note: Besides being in season seven of Vampire Diaries, there isn’t much else of either show’s plot. I just wanted to write a little series that I thought would be both Enzo’s romantic side and the Mikaelson’s flare for the dramatic. So no deadly threats besides family drama. Let me know if you guys like it! (Note: I’m reposting these because I really wanted to just make some minor edits before I finally finish out this series)

Warnings: Lots of Fluff (and some mild language)

The quiet was both peaceful and maddening. You were used to the sound of jazz music in the morning and the strong smell of coffee, but this morning there was nothing. Just silence. You slowly rose from the bed and grabbed the nearest pieces of decent clothing you could find- which just happened to be your boyfriend’s favorite shirt, a pair of jeans and sandals. Your feet made almost no sound on the hardwood floor, but it was enough for Enzo to hear you coming.

“I didn’t mean to wake you, love.” He said, looking out the window of your apartment.

“How could you have? You haven’t made a sound at all.” You scoffed.

“Are you asking me to be louder at seven in the morning?” He turned towards you and you could see the raw emotion in his eyes. He saw you looking and quickly moved his gaze to the kitchen. “Ah, I’ve forgotten the coffee. No wonder you’re in a foul mood.” He had been acting this way ever since he had gotten back from the Armory. Something was wrong, you just couldn’t figure out what. You followed him into the kitchen and wrapped your arms around his waist, placing a light kiss on his shoulder before resting your head there.

“Enzo…” You started, kissing the crook of his neck. “What’s going on? You’ve been acting strange lately.”

“Don’t know what you mean, darling.” He poured coffee into your mug and handed it back to you. You pulled yourself up onto the counter and sipped the delicious warm liquid.

“You haven't played your guitar in days, you won't go out of the apartment, and every time I try to talk to you you seem completely distant.” Even now, he was looking off, not really hearing you. “Enzo!” His gaze snapped to you.

“I’m fine love. Really.” He kissed your cheek as he walked past. Still not convinced, you followed him to the living room where the two of you sat in silence. You took a deep breath, wincing at your own words.

“It’s the Armory, isn’t it? Your family.”

“I said that I’m fine!” He snapped. “Maybe I’m just sick of all your bloody questions.” You scoffed, narrowing your eyes at him and setting the mug on the table.

“You’re so afraid of being alone, Enzo.” You stood and grabbed your car keys. “Maybe you should stop pushing away the people who care about you.” He didn’t even move his gaze from the floor as you slammed the door of the apartment behind you.

Enzo rubbed his eyes. He knew that he shouldn’t have snapped at you. He was tired and hurt over the fact that his family wasn’t at all what he dreamed they would be. They were quite the opposite, actually. He feared that he was exactly like them; a lying, heartless beast who only cared about the ends instead of the means. Looking back at his life only made him see how similar he was to them. And it scared him more than he wished it would.

Bonnie gave you the ‘I told you so’ look from across the cafe table. You rolled your eyes. Although your family and the remaining Bennett witch had never gotten along, you had become best friends with both her, Caroline, and Elena. It still hurt to think that you would never see two of your closest friends together again all because of Kai’s stupid curse.

“Don’t say it.” You begged taking a long sip of the new coffee you ordered. She held up her hands and smiled innocently.

“I have no idea what you mean.” She too drank from the cup in front of her. “It’s not like I’ve been telling you for the past year that Enzo is a total dick who is so undeserving of you.”

“We had an argument, Bonnie.” You sighed. “We didn’t break up so stop talking about him like we did.”

“I always talk about him like this.” You pegged your bunched up napkin at her and fell back in your seat. “Look, Y/N, I know you care about him, but I saw what he was like in the Armory. He was so determined to figure out who his family was, I think when he found out who they really were… he broke.”

“I know and I want to help him. I just don’t know how.” You thought of what your life was like compared to his. “I don’t exactly know what it’s like to not have a family.” Every moment of your life was surrounded with memories of your twin brother Kol, or your younger sister Rebekah, or of course your two loving- but insanely protective- older brothers; Elijah and Niklaus. Your siblings meant everything to you, and it was hard to imagine what your thousand years would have been like without them.

“Try to make him feel like he’s a part of something.” Bonnie suggested. Despite her dislike of Enzo, a part of her did like to think of him as a somewhat ally. She also cared deeply about you and she wanted you to be happy, even if it was with Enzo. “Make him see that he isn’t alone.”

“What the hell do you want?” Damon snapped, narrowing his eyes at his old friend standing before him. Enzo pushed passed him into the house. “Come on in.” Damon slammed the door and followed Enzo into his living room.

“I need a drink.” He muttered, finding Damon’s favorite bourbon and poured himself a glass. He drank it quickly and poured another. Damon snatched the bottle away from him.

“Sorry buddy, but I am not your personal liquor store.” He poured a glass for himself and placed the bottle away from Enzo. “What’s wrong with you anyway? Where’s your obnoxious British swagger?”

“Let’s just say I’ve had a rough week.”

“Ah yes, the rest of the St. John psycho clan…” Damon started. Enzo shot him a look. “So your family sucks. Join the club.”

“It’s not just that…” Enzo sighed heavily. “It’s Y/N.”

“So this is a lover’s spat? My favorite.” He leaned against the table with a smirk. “What did the female half of the Devil Twins do now?”

“Y/N didn’t do anything. I snapped at her this morning after she asked about… them.”

“Let me guess, she wants to meet the parents?” Damon said sarcastically.

“Can you take anything seriously?” Enzo growled. Damon wiggled his eyebrows mischievously.

“Nope.” He ushered Enzo onto the couch who laid down, arm slung over his face. “Maybe this is just your turning point. I mean, we all kind of knew that the two of you wouldn’t work.” He moved his arm so he could look at Damon.

“What?”

“Yeah, I mean, sure it was ‘cute’ at first. The two sociopaths of Mystic Falls united by their undying need for mayhem and death.” He gagged. “But we knew it wasn’t going to last. Her family puts each other in coffins, you’re claustrophobic, she has daddy issues, you had a thing for my mom- the list goes on.” Enzo propped himself up on his elbows.

“You think we should split up?”

“Of course not.” Damon took a long drink of bourbon. “Have you not been listening to a word I just said?” Enzo’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“Did I miss something?” He wondered, fully sitting up on the couch. Damon rolled his eyes and moved behind the sofa to get more bourbon.

“I’m Damon freaking Salvatore! Am I really going to tell you to go with what everyone else thinks?” He put his hand on his chest in mock offense. “It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

“So you’re saying not to split up?” Damon smacked the back of his head and Enzo growled.

“Do I need to spell it out for you? Think about it. Everyone thought that Elena was making a horrible decision when she chose me. Despite the fact that she is in a witchy coma for the next sixty years, we still held onto the idea of spending our lives together. Exhibit B; everyone said that Stefan and Caroline were the perfect couple and they were going to live happily ever after- until he made the dick move to run off with Valerie even after we killed Rayna.” Instead of pouring a glass, he just took a swig from the bottle. “The point is: the world is full of assholes who are often wrong. So don’t listen to them.” Enzo blew out a long breath and fell back onto the couch.

“I suppose you’re right.” He chuckled.

“Of course I’m right.” Damon lifted him up from his seat and started pushing him towards the door. “So go find your hot psycho original vampire and make sweet love to her for all I care. Whatever gets you out of my house.”

“Why did we stop being mates again?” Enzo asked sarcastically when he was shoved outside.

“You tried to kill my girlfriend, remember?” Damon thought for a moment. “Then again, I did try to kill yours on multiple occasions so I guess we’re even.” He laughed to himself. “There was this one time, after we-” He stopped the sentence abruptly, remembering that he was standing in front of Y/N’s current boyfriend, so revealing their dirty past relationship was probably a bad idea. “Nevermind. Now go.” He finished and slammed the door. Enzo thought about everything he had said and knew what he needed to do.

He found you sitting back in the apartment, with an extremely determined look on your face. When you saw him come in, you stood. You opened your mouth to speak, but he stopped you.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted. You cocked your head to the side.

“For what?”

“Shouting at you this morning. I’ve been thinking ever since I got back from the Armory, panicking really.” He explained. “What if I’m just like them? I’ve lied and cheated and killed to get what I want, much like they have to add to their supernatural collection. I was angry at myself and I took it out on you. I’m sorry.” To his surprise, you laughed.

“You don’t need to apologize, Enzo.” You stepped towards him, placing a hand on his cheek. “God knows I’ve started my fair share of brawls between us.” He leaned into your hand, the tips of your fingers tangling in his hair. It took all of his strength to pull away and continue.

“I haven’t finished.” He paced across the room and your hand fell to your side. “I’m not going to be able to just move past this. I need time. I need to try and figure out what I’m supposed to do now.”

“I know.” You interjected. “I want to help you, Enzo. I want to help you get through all of this.”

“No.” He said bluntly. “I need to do this on my own.” You thought that you could let it go. That you could let him go off on his own to figure things out by himself. But you couldn’t.

“No you don’t.” You snapped. “Enzo, you don’t have to do this alone.”

“It is my family. I need to do this.”

“They may be your blood, but they are not your family.” You put your hands on either side of his face. His eyes were glistening.

“Then I shall never have one?” His expression was so sad, it crushed you. One solution came to mind and it made your body shiver with nerves.

“If you want a family…” You paused and studied him. You knew that you wanted this, but would he? “Become part of mine.” His puzzled expression pushed you further. “Your whole life, you’ve been wanting to be a part of something. You’ve wanted a place to belong. I can give that to you.”

“Y/N, what are you saying.”

“I’m saying,” you took a deep breath. “Lorenzo St. John… Will you marry me?” His eyes went wide and for a moment your heart sank. But then he smiled, sending a bright feeling through you, like a ball of light traveling through your veins.

“Are you serious?” He asked and you nodded. He lifted you off the ground, spinning around and laughing. “Yes. Of course yes!” Your lips collided as you continued to spin. He set you down on your feet, your arms still draped around his neck. “Though you have robbed me of making the large romantic gesture of proposing.”

“Well,” you grinned, taking his hand. “Let me make it up to you.”

You curled your toes around the bedsheets and released them, feeling the breeze come in from the open window. You felt a hand playing with your hair and you turned to face Enzo. He twisted a strand around his finger then pushed it away from your face.

“Hello love.” He purred, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. You sighed with content. He wrapped his arms around you and you laid your head on his chest. The moment couldn’t be more perfect. Until you realized…

“You’re going to have to meet them.” You blurted suddenly. He pulled away so he could look at you.

“What?”

“My siblings. You’re going to have to meet them.” He chuckled.

“You’re worried about that?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed. “I would like to be married in New Orleans, since it is the closest thing I’ve had to having a real home.”

“That’s perfectly fine with me.” He said, pulling you into his arms again. You pushed away and sat up.

“I don’t think you understand. We’re not...” You paused to search for the right word. “Normal. Nor are they very hospitable when it comes to strangers.” He sat up next to you, his fingers drawing circles on your back. “We need a plan.”

“I highly doubt-” He started but you cut him off.

“Freya will probably be defensive at first, but if you do nothing to threaten us, she’ll warm up to you. Rebekah will try and get you to give her a reason to hate you, so you’ll have to make sure to be careful. Eventually she’ll accept us since she’s always been a sucker for a good romance. Kol will be fine with anything that brings a party.” You turned to face him, a very serious look on your face. “Elijah is the one you want to impress. He’s the only one who can stop Klaus from killing you.”

“Stop Klaus from doing what?” Enzo exclaimed.

“Niklaus is very temperamental when it comes to his sibling’s relationships with other people. He always fears that we will abandon him for somebody else. So when he discovers a romance, it is rare that our significant others survive the encounter.”

“And you want me to meet him?” He scoffed. “And then tell him we’re getting married.” You snatched up Enzo’s shirt that you had worn earlier from the bedpost.

“My siblings being a part of our wedding is really important to me Enzo. Even the ones with murderous tendencies.” You left out the fact that all of you tended to go on killing sprees from time to time- yourself included. He sighed and pulled you in for a long, passionate kiss.

“Well if I am killed because I love you it will have been worth it.” You pouted your lips sarcastically.

“You’re so sweet.” You said, pressing your lips to his again, but pushing away quickly. “We’re still going.” He groaned and fell back on the bed. You rolled your eyes and located the rest of your clothes, barely able to contain the turning bundle of excitement and nerves rolling around your stomach. It was time to go home.

Keeping Reading to: Meet the Mikaelsons

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

#lorenzo st john #repost #enzo and the originals #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #damon salvatore #enzo st. john x reader #michael malarkey #vampire diaries #the originals

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch34: Paper

Summary: Following the events in Siberia, Katie, Steve Wanda and Sam all struggle to adapt to a life on the run. The Roger’s first wedding anniversary isn’t spent the way Steve would have hoped, but as Fall arrives, he finallly gets the call he’d been waiting for from Wakanda.

Warnings: Bad language, Smut! (NSFW, Under 18s) Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: Wonderful edit again from @angrybirdcr and a new part means a new banner!!!! Here we go, into the Nomad/IW years...

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 33

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

August 2016

Following advice from Coulson, the group of Outlaws decided to lay low for a few months until interest died down, although Katie and Sam were pretty amused to find out that there had been widespread protests across the US after Captain America had been declared and Enemy of the State, especially when someone (no names were mentioned, but Katie was laying odds on it being Murdock to help Clint and Scott’s very publicised hearings) had leaked to the press details of exactly what had taken place in Siberia, and how they had been treated by the Government. To Katie’s further delight, Ross was facing a public enquiry as well with regards to their unlawful arrests.

All in all, that part of it had worked out pretty well. And whilst she knew Ross would get away with it, the thought of him being pissed off and inconvenienced filled her with a very smug sense of satisfaction.

The place they were living was called the Isle of Lewis, approximately twelve miles away from Stornoway in the northern part of the inter-connected Islands in the Hebrides. Coulson wasn’t lying when he’d told Katie it was isolated, in fact the only connection to mainland Scotland was either a two hour ferry or a half hour flight, so with that respect it was absolutely perfect.

The old farm house was secluded, the land surrounding it sprawling for miles, shielded by a large thicket of trees on three sides and a cliff edge which dropped down to a small beach on the other. There was no reason for anyone to visit or pass their house, bar the odd dog walker they saw treading the cliff footpath. They were always careful when seeing people to greet them politely so they didn’t attract attention by being suspiciously aloof.

The first rule of going on the run? Don’t run.

At first they strayed into town for supply runs only. Katie was surprised just how well she adapted to living with two additional people. At first she had been worried, Steve and her having had their own space for such a long time. Even in the tower and compound their living quarters had been spacious and private, meaning they could hide away from everyone if they wanted to. But in their safe house they didn’t have that luxury. Nevertheless, it was adequate enough meaning they all had their own rooms, even if they were on the small side. And whilst there was only one full bathroom upstairs, so far there had been no squabbles about who used it when.

The large sitting area had been kitted out with a state of the art entertainment system, they had a decent sized farmhouse style Kitchen-Diner, and a smaller sitting room off the back of the kitchen with a smaller TV and a a piano much to Katie’s delight. Practical things like bills etc were coming out of an account belonging to Mr and Mrs O’Rourke, one of Katie and Steve’s covers- the name being Steve’s Ma’s maiden name. Coulson had advised them it was the least suspicious thing to do and would attract less attention than trying to pay cash at a bank. They’d also acquired a ten year old 4x4, bought for cash of course, and it was subtle enough to blend in as a lot of the locals seemed to drive them too due to the terrain and climate of the Island.

But whilst everything seemed to go according to plan and was, when all was said and done, fairly easy, Steve was struggling. He was antsy from the lack of action, and from a purely carnal point of view was missing the fact he could slam his wife up against any surface he wanted to and not worry about them being caught. He hated the fact their room was right next to Sam’s, concerned with the amount of noise they might make after Bucky’s jibe about the hotel rooms, and it wasn’t long before Katie noticed a dramatic shift in his attitude towards her. He was snappy, short tempered and Katie was often the one that bore the brunt of his temper. They bickered, on a much larger scale than she could really ever remember them doing before, over really stupid things as well like the fact one evening Steve couldn’t find where she’d put his favourite cookies in the kitchen. He became less tactile, less handsy and their love life dwindled dramatically, but she tried not to let it get to her, which was easier said than done especially when she was so used to the fact that he basically worshipped the ground she walked on.

The morning of their first wedding anniversary, Katie woke alone, her husband nowhere to be found. After laying simply staring at his empty side of the bed for a moment, remembering he blinked back tears of frustration and headed for a before she wandered downstairs into the kitchen to be greeted by Sam and Wanda both sat at the table.

“Steve gone for a run?” She asked, after greeting them both good morning.

“Yeah, I offered to go but he wanted to go on his own.” Sam said, shrugging “Didn’t want me slowing him down.”

“He actually said that?” Katie frowned.

Sam nodded.

“I’m sorry Sam, don’t take it personally.” Katie poured herself a coffee and sat down, taking a deep breath. “Is everything okay?” Wanda asked, looking at Katie “You’ve both been a little tetchy recently. Granted you haven’t been as bad as him, but…” “Yeah, you guys not err…getting enough?” Sam quipped, earning himself a slap round the back of the head from Wanda, the younger woman giving him a glare.

“Fuck off Wilson.” Katie rolled her eyes.

“I’m just saying.”

“Well don’t.” She snapped, taking a sip of her coffee then swiping a piece of toast off his plate. “He’s just not coping well with being cooped up, it’ll settled down. I hope.” She added, biting her toast.

“Look, we know it’s your anniversary today.” Wanda looked at her. “You got anything planned?” “Not really possible.” Katie shrugged. “Thought I might try and convince him to take a walk later, just the two of us but…”

“Well,” Sam looked at Wanda then over to Katie. “We thought we might head into town for the evening, hit a few bars. Give you two a bit of space.” Wanda nodded, eagerly. “You have to do something, even if it’s just cooking a meal and having a bit of you time.” Katie pondered this for a moment and found herself smiling “Actually, that’s not a bad idea. I can go to the store later.” Her spirits raised a little as she started planning a menu out in her head. She was jerked from her thoughts when the security system clicked and Steve walked through the door of the kitchen that led to the grounds, the door shutting behind him, the keypad beeping as he typed in the code to lock everything down. His T-shirt was damp with sweat, clinging to his torso, the pair of dark sweats fitting snugly to his hips.

“Hey.” She looked up at him. His face was tired but nevertheless she was relieved to see him smile as he walked over and dropped a soft kiss to her head, their argument from the previous night forgotten.

“Happy Anniversary.” He whispered, and she smiled up at him, understanding his gesture to also be an apology of sorts.

“Back at ya, Soldier.” She swallowed back her tears, “You want breakfast?” “I’ll shower first.” He nodded to Sam and Wanda before pausing, and with a playful smile he stole the last piece of toast off Sam’s plate.

“Not cool man!” Sam groaned. “That was the last of the bread.” Steve simply shrugged at Sam’s protest, before he headed down the hallway to go and freshen up. Katie watched him go before she turned to Wanda.

“Fancy coming with me to the store?”

She nodded “Sure.”

***** When Steve came back to the kitchen half an hour or so later he was surprised to find the girls gone.

“Supplies.” Sam answered his unasked question as he was flicking through the television in the lounge, settling on a British Chat Show called ‘This Morning’, easy daytime TV that didn’t require thinking about. Steve made himself a coffee before he sat down next to his friend with a sigh.

“So, first anniversary.” Sam spoke, not looking at him. “Be this isn’t what you thought you’d be doing?” “You can say that again.” Steve mumbled. Just twelve months ago at that exact time he’d been bustling about his apartment on the compound in a fluster getting ready. It had, without a doubt, been the happiest day of his life. But this was not how he wanted their first wedding anniversary to go down. He’d always planned spoiling Katie a little, maybe a nice getaway, somewhere warm, but that wasn’t an option.

“Me and Wanda are clearing out later.” Sam’s eyes remained on the TV. “Give you two a bit of alone time.” “You don’t have to-“ Steve started but Sam cut him off with a snort.

“Man, you need to make some lovin’ on your girl.” He turned to the soldier who felt a flush rise up his neck. “Because we know you ain’t been getting enough, you’ve been a bad tempered bastard for weeks.”

“I have not.” Steve shot back indignantly, causing Sam to raise his eyebrows. Steve let out a sigh, knowing he was well and truly busted.

“Look, if you two ever need some space, all ya gotta do is ask.” Sam said sincerely, looking at Steve. “Couples need that time. This is bound to be stressful for you both.”

“I doubt it’s easy on you two either.” Steve looked at him and Sam shrugged, before he smirked.

“Difference is if I wanna get laid I’ll just head into town. There’ll be some sap out there that likes George Fletcher the Geologist from Georgia.”

“You’re terrible you know that?” Steve smirked at him over his coffee mug.

Sam simply smiled back. “You get her anything?”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded “We agreed months ago on something paper themed, you know, on account of the anniversary being paper. I had planned to get the lyrics to our wedding song printed and do a sketch of one of our photos to hang up in our apartment but that kinda went out of the window.” “So what did you get?” “A book.” Steve let out a breath “I spotted it in the second hand shop in town last time we did a flyer. It’s a leather-bound complete works of Shakespeare but it was published the year she was born and has all these handwritten notes in it from someone. Just the kind of thing she’ll like. And a couple of albums of sheet music, I know she’s missing hers back home and she hasn’t been playing the piano as much as I thought she would.”

“She’ll love it.” Sam smiled encouragingly “I hope so Sam.” he sighed, leaning back against the couch cushions, scratching at his chin “I hope so.” *****

True to their word, Sam and Wanda headed out just after five, leaving Katie and Steve alone. As Katie bustled around in the kitchen, Steve couldn’t help but watch his wife as she cooked, a small smile playing on his face. And then, realising they were truly alone for the first time in months he placed his beer down on the side and crossed the small room, wrapping his arms around her from behind and dropping his chin to her shoulder, nuzzling at her neck. She smiled at his display of affection, something she’d been aching for, and as the scruff of his almost-beard scratched at her skin she gave a soft sigh.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He said, before he shook his head “No. Not really. Doll, I’m sorry for being so distant. You don’t deserve this.” He sighed. “After the accords, when the dust settled we were supposed to have a normal life, a simple life. I can’t even give you that.”

“It’s a good thing you’re cute because at times you’re incredibly stupid,” She smiled making him breathe a laugh. “Steve we’re here, together after everything. I made that vow, until death do us part and I mean it. I love you.” She finished simply, shrugging. “So stop wasting time worrying about it. You’re stuck with me, Captain Dumbass.“

Steve looked back at her, before he gave her a small smile.

"Now I know this probably isn’t what either of us had in mind, but we’re on our own, I’ve got a pretty large batch of Mac and Cheese, and an apple pie in the oven, a steak ready to grill so let’s just try and enjoy it.”

“You made mac and cheese?” Steve’s face creased into a boyish smile “And apple pie? What happened to not baking pies unless it’s Autumn?” “Well its September tomorrow.” She shrugged. “And I thought it might cheer you up.”

"Sorry.” He half grimaced, half smiled apologetically back at her. “I know I haven’t been the easiest to be around lately ─”

“Stop apologizing.” She interrupted him again.

He studied her for a second before he leaned down to give her a soft kiss. “I love you.” “I know.” Her hands slid down to his chest and she gave him a quick pat before playfully shoving him away “Now scoot, unless you want me to burn dinner. Go set the table.” Knowing better than to refuse, he did as he was told and it wasn’t long before they were settled down and eating. They talked about everything and anything, drank wine, and to the pair of them they could almost have been sat in their dining room at the compound. They laughed, they joked, they poked fun at one another. It felt normal. Once they had finished eating they cleared their dishes, Steve grabbed another bottle of wine and they headed to the couch to find something to watch on TV.

“I got you something.” Katie smiled when Steve dropped the wine onto the coffee table and she gestured to the small gift bag resting on the table.

“Oh, me too. Hang on.” He bounded up the stairs to retrieve his gift. As he returned, Katie eyed the two wrapped items with playful suspicion as he handed them to her. One was really heavy. She passed the gift bag containing his to him and he peeked inside, and they shared a childish grin with one another before they set about opening their presents.

“Oh, Steve.” She breathed out as she gently ran her hands over the leather of the anthology he had bought her. Flicking through, she smiled as she spotted all the notes that someone had written in the margins. They consisted of opinions on the plays, themes, characterisation plots, all the type of thing she had studied at University and she found it fascinating to read other people’s interpretations.

“I thought you might like it.” He watched her as she looked at him, her eyes bright, before she then let out another sigh of happiness when she opened the two sheet music books as they would give her something else to play other than the stuff she knew from memory.

And her gift to Steve was equally as thoughtful. He positively beamed when he opened the new blank sketch books, pencils, wax crayons and charcoals. All of his art supplies had been left behind and he’d been dying to get some more.

“Well, the sketchbook is paper.” Katie explained softly. “And I know it relaxes you to draw.” “Doll, its perfect” He assured her, dropping a kiss to her lips. “Thank you.”

“So, what film do you wanna watch?” She asked, moving for the remote but Steve had no intention of watching a film. Not now. He gently grabbed her wrist and she looked at him.

“Right now, Mrs Rogers, I’d really like to carry you upstairs and take you to bed.”

Katie grinned. “Well that can be arranged, but there’s something I wanna do first.”

He looked at her, puzzled for a moment but when she tapped on her phone and the opening sounds of ‘Only One in Colour’ sounded over the speakers he laughed and stood up, offering her his hand.

“May I have this dance?” He quipped, arching an eyebrow at her.

“Always.” She smiled, allowing him to pull her up.

They moved to the back of the couch where there was more room and he took her in a hold and they simply stayed close, swaying to the music, both of them thinking back to their first dance as a married couple twelve months ago. Katie pressed her cheek to Steve’s chest and he in turn rest his chin on the top of her head, revelling in her closeness. He heard her let out a soft sigh, but this one was contentment, and he gently moved to look down at her. For a moment Katie felt her breath catch, he was looking at her with nothing but unadulterated desire and love, the same way he had on their wedding day, and before the song had even finished, he’d captured her lips in a soft kiss, his hands moving to cradle her face. Hers fisted in his white T-shirt and it wasn’t long before the kiss had deepened causing a moan to catch in Steve’s throat. Without a word he pulled back and scooped her up in his arms, bridal style, causing her to giggle, a sound he would never tire of, and quick as a flash he carried her up the stairs and into the bedroom.

He set her on her feet but before he had time to do anything she’d shoved him backwards, catching him off guard slightly causing him to sit down harshly on the bed and he let out a smirk as she straddled him before she kissed him again and he was happy to reciprocate exactly how he knew she liked, firm and gentle, passionate and caring all at once. Katie gently bit his lower lip drawing another groan from his throat as he rest his head against hers, his hands gently gipping her hip.

“You know,” She drew back slightly to cup his face in her fingertips. “I really do like kissing you with this.” she traced her hand across the short beard on his face. She also liked looking at him with it too because, coupled with the fact his hair was also getting slightly longer, it gave him a rugged, harder, rougher look taking him farther and farther away from the Blue-Eyed all American boy day by day.

“I’m getting used to it.” He murmured pressing a soft kiss to her mouth before his head dropped, small kisses trailing up the length of her neck, that precious stubble creating an amazing contrast to the softness of his mouth.

“Yeah, me too.” She gave a soft moan, her eyes closed as she rolled her head back, giving him access to more of her neck. Steve smiled slightly, happy to oblige and just take his god damned time loving his wife. Eventually, his lips made their way up her jaw and then she sat up slightly, grasping at the hem of his T-shirt. He moved to allow her to take it off and then his fingers made short work of the sleeveless button down she had been wearing, shrugging it down over her shoulders before he peppered more kisses across her collar bone and down her sternum as he reached round to undo her bra. Gently, he lay her flat down on the bed, taking a nipple in his mouth, this time drawling a loud groan from her as her hips bucked involuntarily upwards at the sensations spiking through her body.

God it really had been far too long since he’d lavished attention on her like this and Steve made a mental note to tell Sam and Wanda to ‘take a walk’ a lot more often. It was almost two months now since they had last been intimate and, his body was aching for her, desperate to feel her, and from the noises she was making she felt the same. His lips made their way down, nose and beard skimming along the waistband of her jeans before he undid them, sliding them down with her underwear as he shed his own too before he crawled back over her.

Katie pushed on his shoulders slightly so she could roll him over and placed herself on top of him, brushing her lips across the hairs on his face tracing a path across from one side of his jawline to the other drawing a gentle moan from his lips, hands flexing on her hips as she shifted slightly to start taking him in. Her mouth dropped into a small ‘o’ as they both groaned as she slid down him, her hands falling to his chest and once he was fully sheathed inside of her, she began to work him gently. His hands slid up into her hair, as she leaned forward to kiss him and he raised his hips slightly and she whimpered, pushing down harder against him as his hands gently kneaded at her breasts. Her pace was slow, torturously so, but it wasn’t long before she began to move faster, working him harder as she chased her relief. The roughness of his pubic hair was grinding against her spot, the friction feeling amazing as she pushed down. With every push she made, his eyes grew darker, and darker, his hands digging into her hips as he pulled her down, grinding further and deeper.

He sat up suddenly, so they were face to face, the change of angle making her cry out, as he slid his hands round her back, pulling her closer to him as he bent to kiss her neck, biting at that spot whilst he held her still for a moment, gently thrusting upwards, deeply, slowly, savouring the moment. Katie rolled her head back, a louder cry this time tumbling from her lips and he felt her tighten around him, and he let out a groan of his own.

“Good?” He panted, smiling as she managed a broken noise of affirmation, as he pulled her to him harder, hands back on her hips as his rutting picked up speed.

“Stevie…” She mumbled, her eyes locking onto his as her hands slid up his back and fisted into his hair. A few more pushes later and they were both done for, her name escaping from his lips as her walls collapsed completely, and she let out a soft cry as she fell forward burying her face in his neck. He was close behind, letting out a gentle moan, his beard rustling against her ear as he jerked underneath her, clinging onto her as if he never wanted to let her go. And at that moment he didn’t.

After a minute or so he leaned back, his breathing deep as he brushed her hair back off her face before sliding his nose against hers. “Happy Anniversary, Kitten.” *******

Steve thought the fall in New York was gorgeous but that was nothing compared to what it was like where they were. He was feeling a lot more positive about things as well, as post their anniversary, he and Katie had made a pact that they would do something alone together at least once a week, be it a walk along the cliff the beach, or straying into town to one of the local restaurants. His hair and beard now rendered him pretty much unrecognisable and they never got a second glance at all.

Steve’s favourite ‘date’, if you could them that, was the walk they took in the pitch black to see the Northern Lights late one evening. Katie had been utterly captivated by the beauty of the Aurora Borealis and Steve had to admit, it was spectacular. Committing it to memory was easy, and a few days later Katie wasn’t surprised to find a perfect replica of them his sketch book.

Being on the run shouldn’t have been this easy, and they were constantly on edge, waiting for the time they had to split and run, but whilst they could, they made the most of it.

Thanksgiving came, then Christmas, the four friends making it as festive as possible. They got a tree, shared gifts, enjoyed a Christmas Meal, and after several drinks each, Steve wheeled the piano into the living room where Sam and Katie gave a rousing rendition of ‘Fairy Tale of New York’ along with a few other Christmas songs. It was different, but that didn’t make it any less enjoyable.

And then, in March 2017, they had a call from T’Challa. They were ready to bring Bucky out of cryo. Katie and Steve instantly set about making the arrangements to go to Wakanda, but it turns out they weren’t the only ones planning on taking a little trip…

“There’s something I wanted to discuss with you all.” Wanda said, the morning they were due to depart. “Please don’t freak out, but I talked to Vision last night.”

“What?” Katie’s voice was quiet as she merely looked back at the younger woman, her face passive.

Meanwhile, both Steve and Sam’s eyebrows shot up in their foreheads.

“Hold on, what do you mean you talked to Vision?” Steve asked. “How? Where?”

“This is going to sound really weird, but I saw him in my dreams,” Wanda carried on with her explanation.

“How do you know that wasn’t just a dream?” Sam asked.

“Because it wasn’t,” Wanda shrugged “I don’t know how to explain it, but I know it was him and I know it was real. I think we are connected somehow, because of the Mind Stone and because I was thinking about him before I went to sleep, it made some kind of telepathy possible.”

Steve pondered it for a second, thinking to himself how ridiculous that sounded until he realised they were talking about an enhanced human who had gained certain telepathic and telekinetic powers due to experimentation with the Mind Stone and an android that now carried within his synthetic, vibranium-mesh body said gem.

When you put it like that it seemed fairly logical.

"What did you talk about?” Katie asked after a moment.

“Just stuff, how I was, how much we, you know, miss one another” Wanda bit her lip. “We talked about actually meeting in person in a few days.”

“Okay, hold on,” Sam held one of his hands up, his brow furrowed. “How do we know this is not a trap? Like, I don’t know, Tony getting Vision to talk to you to get us back into the Raft?”

As soon as Sam said it Katie shook her head. Tony could sometimes be a jackass and he may have been hurt and mad at her and Steve, but she knew despite his stinging barb in Siberia, he wouldn’t want them all thrown in jail.

“He wouldn’t do that,” She looked at Sam.

“How do you know?” Sam pressed.

“Because Tony has way better tech than us, and there’s no accounting for what Vision can do with that Mind Stone.” Steve backed his wife up. This was something he had been pondering on for a while now too. “If anyone can find us, it’s them, yet we’re almost ten months down the line now since Leipzig and so far, there’s no sign of any one, so Tony’s either no longer working with Ross, or if he is, he’s dragging his feet deliberately.”

“Exactly,” Wanda nodded emphatically. “And Vision would never do anything to hurt me, not intentionally. I trust him with my life, but it’s more than that.”

Taking a deep breath, his mind made up, Steve turned to Wanda “You’re not a prisoner here Wanda. If you want to go then we can’t and we won’t stop you.”

“Do you want to go?” Katie looked at the younger woman who was wringing her hands together.

“I do but, well, I kinda feel like I’m fraternizing with the enemy.”

“He’s not the enemy. None of them are. Not Vision or Rhodey, Not Tony, none of them.” Steve ran his hand through his hair, sweeping the long strands back off his face. “We all wanted the same thing, to do good in this world but we disagreed on how best to make it happen. Doesn’t make us enemies.”

“But we’re on the run because…”

“This was always going to happen.” Katie cut her off, shaking her head “Ever since SHIELD collapsed and Fury stepped away there was a power vacuum. It was only a matter of time before the Government tried to step in to oversee us.”

“And let’s face it, I was always going to be considered a rogue threat the moment I refused to comply” Steve said, a wry smile on his face. “We all were.”

“Just be careful.” Katie looked at Wanda. “And whilst we’re away just make sure you check in once in a while? And the first sign of trouble, well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Well if Wanda’s being granted shore leave so to speak, I might take a bit of time too.” Sam chipped in as the idea came to him. “There’s an old RAF pal of mine, based near Liverpool that I aint seen in a while. He’s cool,” he anticipated the next question, “I saved his life on a mission so he won’t sell me out.” Steve took a deep breath and then shrugged “You know the risks, Sam. If any of us get caught then…” “Back to the Pokey.” Sam shrugged “Yeah, I got it. And don’t worry, I wouldn’t rat your location out.”

“Me neither.” Wanda added.

“I don’t for a second believe you would.” Steve shook his head.

“I suppose, to be fair,” Katie bit her lip, “we’ve been here for a long time now. It won’t harm us to disappear for a while, regroup in a few weeks. And we’ll draw even less attention apart as they won’t be expecting it.” And so, for the first time in ten months, the four went their separate ways. ****** True to his word, Steve was there when they woke Bucky up. Once he had come round the two greeted one another with the same love and affection they always did. Suri’s scans showed that the programming was no longer present in Bucky’s brain, but there was one last thing they had to do to make sure.

Say the trigger words.

Which was why Katie, Steve, a one armed Bucky and T’Challa were now heading to the underground fort of the palace. Katie clutching a rifle, Steve was unarmed bar his super strength, whilst T’Challa was in his black panther garb, the party flanked by two members of his Kings Guard.

As they were about to enter the underground cell, Bucky grabbed Katie’s arm and pulled her to one side.

“What the hell Bucky?” She almost yelped, and he let go of her arm and held his finger to his lips.

“Listen, Doll Face, I got a favour to ask. If this hasn’t worked…” He took a deep breath. “I want you to end it.”

“End what?” She arched an eyebrow at him. “Me.” He replied simply “Steve said you’re a good shot. I want you to put a bullet in my head.” Katie blinked, and then burst out laughing. “Whatever.” “I’m being deadly serious.” Bucky looked at her. “I can’t and I don’t want to live like that anymore.” He shook his head sadly. “I’d rather die that know that what they’ve done is still in there.” “Bucky,” Katie frowned, “you’d be safe here, you know that, no one would trigger you.” “No, we don’t know that.” He shook his head. “Please Katie, I’m begging you. You owe me.” “So you save my life and you want me to take yours?” “Yeah. Pretty much.”

“You’re an asshole, James Buchanan Barnes” She hissed, glaring at him before shooting a glance over his shoulder at where Steve was stood, talking to T’Challa. She shook her head sadly. “I can’t. It’d kill Steve and it’s wrong, you don’t…”

“Listen, I’m asking you because I trust you to do it.” Bucky cut her off, looking over his shoulder to where she had been watching Steve. He was now stood observing the pair of them and they both smiled at him. Katie took a deep breath, looking into Bucky’s steel blue eyes and gave a sigh. She knew how hard this was on him and she could fully understand where he was coming from but still, asking her to do it, especially when she knew Steve would be besides himself made her feel sick.

“I’ve written him a letter.” Bucky said quickly, as the Super Soldier was now making his way over. “It explains what I’ve asked you to do. So please, give me your word.”

She looked at him, swallowing, and gave him a small nod before her eyes flicked to Steve as he approached, a frown on his face.

“You two alright?”

“Yeah, Katie was just asking me how I was really feeling.” Bucky looked at his friend.

Katie shrugged and smiled at Steve in what she hoped as a convincing way “Wanted to make sure he was alright, that’s all.”

Steve studied her for a moment, and she smiled again before he turned to Bucky. “It’s gonna be ok.” Steve assured his friend, clapping him on his shoulder, shooting another glance at his wife who was nervously chewing her lip. He frowned again, but pushed the suspicion to the back of his mind and then nodded. “Come on.” “Yeah, let’s get this over with.” Bucky mumbled.

Steve and T’Challa stepped into the room which was sealed whilst Katie took up her position on the other side of the one way glass with Suri who pressed the microphone to talk into the room.

““I don’t know why you are all worrying, brother, it is like you do not trust me…” the young woman scoffed. “Take no chances Sister.” T’Challa shot back. “You know this”.

Suri made a noise in her throat and then spoke again “Ok, I’m ready when you are.” She held the red book in her hand that they had recovered from Zumo. T’Challa engaged his helmet whilst Steve stood stoic as ever, throwing a glance over his shoulder to the glass he knew his wife was stood at the other side of.

“Ready Buck?” he asked turning back. His friend nodded, taking a deep breath.

T’Challa signalled to Suri who, after a little hesitation, began to read, each word punctuated by a pause.

“Longing, Rusted, Seventeen, Daybreak, Furnace…”

Katie watched intently and saw Bucky was clenching his teeth and suddenly she started to get a little bit nervous. She wasn’t the only one that had spotted it either. Steve moved slightly, adopting a little more of a battle stance than he had been as he clocked his friends reaction.

“Nine, Benign, Homecoming, One, Freight Car”

The last words hit Steve like a truck. It was depraved that Hydra would use those words. Bucky had plunged from a train car to his supposed death. There was no randomness to that at all, unlike the seemingly obscure nature of the rest of the words, nor was it any accident it was the last trigger they would use. There were the final words because they signified the death of Bucky and the birth of the killer Winter Soldier.

Sick bastards.

Bucky’s chest was heaving, his fist was clenching, and for a split second Steve feared the worse. But when his friend looked up, he saw the blue eyes of Bucky Barnes looking back at him, and not the icy glare of the Winter Soldier.

“Buck?” He asked gently, his voice cracking slightly. Bucky looked at him, a single tear falling down his cheek.

“Nothing.” He croaked, and Katie let out a soft sigh of relief, her hands sliding down her face to cover her mouth. “Nothing.”

T’Challa threw a party of sorts that night which consisted of a bar crawl through the city. Katie and Bucky dubbed it a ‘Fuck HYDRA’ party much to Steve’s chagrin. But he couldn’t bring himself to care that much, as at the end of the day, if anyone had as much right to stick their middle fingers up to HYDRA it was them. There was still something troubling him though, so when T’Challa left the bar they were sat at for a few moments, he turned to Bucky and asked him outright what had been going on with him and Katie outside the cell before. Bucky hesitated before he hung his head slightly and peered up at Steve from where he was sat next to him, a tumbler of some kind of Wakandan alcohol in his hand.

“I asked her to kill me.” Bucky admitted, swilling the liquid round in the glass “If it hadn’t worked I asked her to put a bullet in my head. She didn’t want to but I told her she owed me.” Steve felt himself blanche. “You did what?” “You don’t know what it’s like.” Bucky shook his head. “Living with the fact that at any time someone could mutter a string of words and…” He shot back the alcohol and slid his empty glass back to the Bar Tender to top up. “I didn’t want to live like that.”

”You put that on her?” Steve’s eyes flashed with anger, “Damnit Buck, you should have asked me!”

“Would you have done it?” Bucky countered. Steve took a big sigh, knowing he was caught “Exactly.” Bucky scoffed. “And besides, you’re the one that said she was a dead shot.”

Bucky eyed his friend for a while before he slid his empty glass to the man behind the bar, gesturing for another top up. “Anyway, it’s irrelevant now because here I am.”

“That was still a shitty thing to do.” Steve frowned before he reached over for his glass, giving a little shrug. “But yeah, here you are.” T’Challa chose that point to come back and he settled at the bar next to Steve.

“So, Sergeant Barnes, we’ll have to see about getting you some permanent lodgings.” The King smiled “Maybe a private hut. There is a quiet tribe, not far from the river, unless you would prefer a post in my Kings Guard.” “I’m done fighting.” Bucky shook his head as he took another drink from his glass. “A hut sounds mighty fine. Maybe I can get some goats.” “Goats?” Steve looked at him.

“I like Goats.” Bucky shrugged “Do you remember the one in the petting zoo near School?” “Yeah, it set my asthma off.” Steve snorted before the pair of them descended into laughter.

Across the bar, Katie was stood with Suri and one of T’Challa’s personal guards, Okoye. She instantly warmed to Okoye, the woman reminding her a lot of Natasha. They stood chatting for a while before a loud roll of laughter caught their attention and they turned to see T’Challa, Bucky and Steve howling at something, as T’Challa gestured for the bar tender to top up their glasses whilst Okoye excused herself to head over to speak to her husband.

“Oh dear, they’ve broken out the Wakandan Spice.” Suri muttered, eyeing up the men.

“What’s that?” Katie asked.

“The only thing that gets my brother drunk!” Suri snorted “That stuff could knock out a rhino.”

“So it should have an effect on Super Soldiers?” Katie grinned.

“Let’s go find out!” Suri nodded, a cheeky grin on her face. They made their way over and Katie could see instantly the woman was right. Steve had a glazed look in his eyes and Bucky was leaning back in his chair, a pink tinge to his cheeks.

“Hey, Beautiful” Steve smiled up at Katie, pulling her into his lap, his hand trailed up and down her spine, lazily. “Where you been all evening?”

“About ten meters away over there.” She smirked, pointing. Suri was reaching over to steal a bit of the liquor from Bucky’s glass and T’Challa slapped her hand. “You are not even old enough to drink.” He glared at her.

“Tssk hush brother. Just because you are now well into your thirties. You always seem to be so bitter about me being much younger than you.” At that Bucky barked out a laugh.

“Don’t know what you’re snorting at old man.” Katie glanced at him and he quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Not exactly a comment I’d expect from someone who’s married to a hundred-year-old man.”

“Ninety-eight.” Steve corrected.

Katie leaned back in her husband’s lap to peer at him, her right hand running through his hair. "Doesn’t look a day over twenty five.” She grinned.

“Hey brother, why doesn’t your power stop your ageing?” Suri quipped.

“Shut up.” T’Challa glared at her. “Before I carry you back to the palace”

As the two siblings began to quibble, Katie glanced at Steve. “Been talking about the good old days?” “In a fashion.” Steve smirked.

“Anymore good tales of your misspent youth to tell me?” Bucky shook his head. “Sure Steve’s told you enough already.”

“I never told her about the time you set up a double date for us and then forgot to show up.” Steve looked at him, his arms tightening around his wife.

“That never happened.” Bucky shook his head.

“It absolutely happened. Caroline O’Hara and Deborah Smith”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “Oh shit, yeah. Brunette and a red head. A curly red head.” He grinned.

“Yup. Double date to the theatre, only you never showed up.” Steve looked at him, accusingly “And little old me was left to explain to Debbie why you had stood her up.”

Bucky smirked into his glass.

"I thought she was gonna kill me.” Steve mused, turning to look at Katie. “She kept hitting me with her purse. And then Caroline started, asking where the hell he was and why he thought it fit to stand up her best friend and try to fix her up with some kind of joke.”

Katie frowned, narrowing her eyes. “You weren’t a joke.”

“Thanks, Honey.” He grinned before he turned to fix Bucky with a glare. “And do you remember why you didn’t show up?” Bucky was now shaking with mirth, as he looked at Steve, his eyes bright with tears of laughter. “Go on, tell her Buck.”

“I was with Maggie Dougherty.” Bucky smirked

“Yeah, you were.” Steve pointed at him. “That was the night you got caught sneaking out of her room and down her fire escape by her dad who beat the crap out of you.”

“Worth it though.” Bucky snorted. “She was hot. Strawberry blonde waves, pretty face, nice ass.” “Yeah.” Steve nodded and Katie slapped the back of his head.

“Oww!” He looked at her as she glared at him. Grinning he reached up to give her a soft kiss “Not a patch on you though, Darlin’”

After another hour or so, Katie left them to it, heading back to the palace with Suri. She’d had enough, the alcohol she had drunk had lulled her into that happy place here she felt warm and fuzzy inside, and ready for bed.

Steve woke her up when he came crashing into the room a few hours later.

“Shit.” He mumbled, as he banged into the chair by the dresser. “Shhhh”

He staggered over to the bed before face planting straight down. Katie grinned as he peeked up at her.

“I’m drunk.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” She giggled and scrambled out of the duvet. “Come on, get in bed.” “Promises, promises.”

“Yeah, not a chance pal. I doubt very much you’d be of any use in this state.”

“Hey.” He pouted rolling over so he was on his back, turning to look at her as she moved to climb out of bed. “That’s my shirt.”

“I know.” She dropped to the floor to take off his suede boots.

“I like you in my shirts. I like you better out of them.” Steve grinned, grabbing hold of her as she stood up.

“How much have you had?” She laughed as he pulled her onto his lap, nuzzling into her neck.

“Enuff.” he spoke back, voice muffled. “You know you’re the prettiest gal in the whole world?” He peeked up at her and she had to laugh as she ruffled his hair.

“Arms up.”

“I like it when you undress me.” He grinned and Katie gave a chuckle, shaking her head. Eventually she managed to tug off his shirt and his jeans whilst he made some other reference to sex, before he pulled her back down onto the bed next to him, giggling like a school kid.

“Bucky told me.” He slurred.

“Told you what?”

“That he asked you to shoot him.” Steve hiccupped “But I’m glad you didn’t have to.”

Katie chuckled to herself “Me too.” “And now he’s all better.” Steve sighed. “Good, isn’t it?” “It’s awesome.” Shhe smiled, reaching up to bush his hair off his face. “You’re gonna be so hungover tomorrow.” He responded with shrug. “But I do love you. So much.”

“I know and I love you too. Now you gonna get into bed?”

He pushed himself up before beginning a monumental fight with the duvet to get underneath it, the whole thing a great source of amusement to Katie. She’d seen him tipsy from the Asgardian stuff Thor gave him before, but not flat out shit faced like this.

“Are you gonna puke?” She asked, stroking his head as he sighed, nuzzling into her chest.

“No.” He assured her, then paused, before he hiccupped slightly. “But I think I need water.” “Alright, wait there.” Katie climbed out of bed. She grabbed him a bottle from the mini fridge near the door but by the time she had turned back, Steve had his face buried into his pillow and made nothing more than a noise when she offered it to him, not looking up. Deciding she couldn’t be bothered to argue with him, she gently placed the bottle on the night stand next to him, and ran her hand through his hair one more time before she crossed to her side of the bed and settled down with him.

“Night, Soldier.” She smiled softly, kissing his cheek.

“Night, Princess.” He slurred into his pillow.

**** Chapter 35

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #Katie Stark #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #mcu #mcu fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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clara-licht · 5 years ago

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You’ve Gotta Be Kidding Me

You woke up in a familiar place with Marvel actors staying there. Or at least, you thought they were actors...

Pairing: The Avengers & Reader Genre: Platonic, general Word Count: 1.9k Note: This is an edited version from my old work in deviantart where the idea is you somehow met the Avengers, but you thought they were the actors instead. It’s been a while since I last wrote something so this was a nice refresher! I got a Peter Parker imagine in works right now, though.

When you opened your eyes, you instantly regretted it.

"Ugh!"

You shielded your eyes from the burning light. When your eyes finally adapted to the lightings, you took in your surroundings. You were in a familiar room. But you didn't think you've been there before. It just that you thought you knew this room. It was quiet, but not dead quiet. You kept looking around you in silence, until a voice startled you.

"Good morning, miss."

"Who's there?!" You immediately jumped out of the bed you'd been on.

"Please do not be alarmed. My name is FRIDAY, an Artificial Intelligence created by my boss, Anthony Stark."

Hearing this, you scoffed. FRIDAY? Anthony Stark? Okay, this was either a dream or someone was pulling prank on you. "Yeah, right. And I fell from the sky to SHIELD's Helicarrier, saved by Captain America, and was treated by Dr. Bruce Banner in Stark Tower. Or is it Avengers Tower?" You said sarcastically.

You got to admit; you loved Marvel. Even if you were pretty sure Endgame also ended your life as you knew it and you couldn't accept a lot of things that happened in that movie. Like Steve leaving Bucky for Peggy, who he knew already had a fulfilling life and children? Nonsense. Far From Home was also quite heartbreaking, seeing your favorite character, Peter Parker, going through a lot like that. You just re-watched it a few days ago and had a good cry about it. Or was it weeks ago? Or hours ago? Wait, why were your memories foggy? You couldn't remember what happened before you woke up in the room.

"Are you okay?"

It took a moment for you to regain your composure. "Yeah, I'm fine. So, care to explain what happened? You can't be the real FRIDAY. As much as how I wanted you to be, FRIDAY only exist in Marvel Universe. Where is this? How did I end up here? What happened? Who are you and what do you want?"

"One moment."

You raised an eyebrow. Now she intended to make you wait? Whoever that guy who pretended to be FRIDAY was, her voice could seriously pass as Kerry Condon's.

A sound of door sliding open made you turned around. And God did you not regret doing it.

"OH MY GOD. ROBERT DOWNEY JR?!"

"Who?" The vertically challenged man, who clearly was Robert Downey Jr. a.k.a Iron Man actor, frowned. Now you didn't care if it was a prank pulled by your friends. You got to meet Downey after all!

"Oh God, are you really?! What did I do to deserve meeting you?!" You started squealing.

"Hey, FRIDAY? Are you sure she's not mentally broken? She hit her head quite hard, didn't she?"

"Yes, boss. I ran full scan of her and right now the amount of dopamine in her brain is increasing- indicating that she's happy. Aside from that, I am 100% sure she is fine."

It was your turn to frown. "What? What scan?"

Downey chuckled and looked at you. "Follow me."

Slightly confused, you followed him.

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"So… Mr. Downey?" You called.

"Who is this Downey that you keep speaking of?"

"You, of course!"

"Well," He lifted an eyebrow as he inched closer to you, "my name is Tony Stark. Feel free to call me Tony, not that name of someone I don't even know about. I've never met someone who don't know about me before."

You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. "Well, Tony," You emphasized his name, "if you keep insisting on playing the whole Iron Man act, then I will play along."

"Play?" He mumbled, face now confused. But he decided to say nothing as the elevator dinged and you two exited the cramped lift. He led you to a spacious room. On your way, you looked around. Now you knew why it felt familiar. That place was designed close to the Avengers Compound in the movie. Whoever did this prank, they really outdid themselves.

"And here we are!"

"What took you so long, Tony?"

"Brother Anthony! I see that the lady has woken up!"

"Oh, she's awake."

"Hey, Cap! That girl you saved is awake!"

"She is?"

You gaped.

No.

Freaking.

Way.

"Now I'm sure I must be dreaming." You muttered.

"What was it, sunshine?" Downey, you mean Tony, asked with that annoying smile. "So! Let me introduce you to-"

"Chris Hemsworth, Jeremy Renner, Scarlett Johansson, Elizabeth Olsen, Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan, Ty Simpkins and oh my god it's Tom Holland and Tom Hiddleston. Yes, I know their names, thank you very much." You mumbled under your breath. "

"Okay, dear lady who seems to know whoever name that you've mistaken us for, I will correct those names for you." Tony sighed. "Meet Thor and his brother Loki who finally decided to stop being a menace after almost dying in the hand of evil purple ball sack," he gestured to Hemsworth and Hiddleston.

"Those two scary assassins over there are Clint Barton, known as Hawkeye, and Natasha Romanoff, or Black Widow," then he pointed at Renner and Johansson.

"Wanda Maximoff, also known as Scarlett Witch." Olsen hesitantly waved at you.

"Capsicle, Steve Rogers, and practically-his-boyfriend, Bucky Barnes." Evans looked at Tony disapprovingly while Stan nodded politely at you. "Usually they got a third guy, Sam Wilson, with them, but he's currently visiting his family."

"And lastly, my interns, Peter Parker and Harley Keener. Vision and Banner are somewhere in this Compound."

You scoffed again. "This might be the best time to wake up. Okay, wake up!" You close your eyes and started shaking your head. "Wake up!"

"What are you doing?" Renner, or Clint, asked.

"Why can't I wake up?" You mumbled. You slapped yourself, hard. "OW! DAMN, THAT HURTS!" Your eyes widened.

"It… hurts? So this is not a dream?" Blinking a few times, realization dawned on you. "Oh, this must be a prank. Alright, you got me. What the hell happened to me earlier and who organized this prank?"

Tom Holland looked up and raised a hand, "I can answer that!"

"Nope, you just stay there quietly, Underoos. Take it away, Cap." Tony said, followed by Holland pouting.

What a cute guy. Wait, no, focus!

Evans stepped forward, "I believe I can answer that."

He started explaining that when Peter (nope, it's Tom Holland, it's got to be Holland) was running on the tracks outside, he saw something falling out from the sky at a rapid pace. That something turned out to be you, who were unconscious at the time. Alarmed, he caught you (no, that doesn't make sense, IF I was really falling that fast, he shouldn't be able to catch me that easily without any of us injured) and called for help. They brought you inside and got Doctor Helen Cho (again, that must be Claudia Kim or something) to check you and she cleared you out. Apparently Doctor Stephen Strange (seriously, they got Benedict Cumberbatch here too?!) came by earlier to check you as well and deemed you non-dangerous, so they let you stay in one of the rooms in the Compound until you wake up.

"Ha, nice story, Captain. Come on, be serious here for a second!" You shook your head, "The Avengers isn't real, okay? They're just fiction! A made-up story! As much as I would love for them to be real, they only exist in Marvel Universe and thank goodness Sony and Disney kinda made up and let Spider-Man stays in MCU because otherwise I won't know what to do! Besides, there's just no way someone could have super powers like-"

"You're scared," Olsen stated softly, "I understand. But I know you somehow feel comfortable standing here with us. You recognized us as someone that you knew, someone you actually trust. You… You somehow feel at ease and want to believe us, although your mind keeps telling you that you're dreaming and this is a prank by your best friend (f/n). You're not, this is not."

You took a step back. It suddenly seemed dangerous to be in that room and whatever ease you felt (yes, she was right, you did feel comfortable for some reason) left you immediately. "Okay… I don't know how know that, but clearly there must be something wrong here…"

"Something wrong indeed." Hiddleston sighed in his attractive British accent as he, who was supposed to be sitting on the couch beside Hemsworth, walked pass from behind you with a bottle of coke in his hand.

"I-I thought you were there!" You pointed at the couch.

"I was."

"Then how-"

"It's not hard to teleport, mortal."

"What-"

"Are you okay? You look pale." Renner, who you started to believe was the real Clint Barton, walked towards you.

"No! Stay where you are!"

"Miss-"

You slid down and sat on the floor, pounding head in your hands. "This is not real. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be…" You whispered over and over again in between your short breath. Your heart was racing and your whole body started shaking.

"Miss, take a deep breath-"

"SHUT IT!"

"Boss, the lady seems to be in distress and starting to show symptoms of panic attack."

"Shit. Hey, hey, come on, breathe slowly-"

"I'm sorry, is this the wrong time to come?"

A new voice made you turn around, only to see a weird person with red and green skin wearing a shiny cape coming in, followed by a big green figure.

"V-Vision?" You croaked out.

"Uh, yes. Do I know you?"

And that was the cue for you to pass out.

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"You've gotta be kidding me."

"We're not."

"But there's just no way-"

"And there's just no way for you to come from a dimension where it seems so peaceful."

"It's not peaceful! War still happens!"

"Yes, but no outer space threat? Really?"

"It's just a fiction!"

"Well it's not. Look at Loki."

When you regained your consciousness, you were still surrounded by some the Avengers. The real Avengers. It made you accept the fact that it was not, indeed, a dream.

"So, I fell out from the sky," Peter nodded. "and this is the Avengers Compound." He nodded again. "You all have no idea what happened to me since Dr. Strange, Maximoff, Stark, Thor, and even Loki knows nothing." They nodded. "And I can't even remember what happened before it!"

"Hey, we'll found out about it." Vision said reassuringly.

"How do you know that I'm not evil?" You asked.

"He's worthy of Mjölnir, and he can see pass you. He knows." Thor said with a smile.

"Besides Strange said you're fine. Maximoff also doesn't feel any threat coming off from you, and Peter's tingle-" Tony stopped himself, "Uh, I mean, Peter is good at sensing bad people and he's fine."

"Are you sure you can help me regain my memory?" You asked, ignoring the little blunder. You must tell them what you knew later and asked about the timeline. Tony mentioned 'evil grape ball sack' which definitely meant Thanos, but he was alive, along with Natasha and Vision, so there must be something different.

"With all our might."

"How?"

"Well, let's start with you telling us your name."

"It's (y/n), (y/n) (l/n)."

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malfoys-demigod · 4 years ago

Text

Picquery

Draco Malfoy x Male!Reader

Summary: Y/N Picquery is an American pureblood wizard from Ilvermorny and son of the famous beater, Lucas Picquery. His parents got a job in the British Ministry and decided to pull Y/N out of Ilvermorny in the middle of the school year and transfer him during the winter break of Hogwarts. New to the school, Y/N settles on making friends with whom he thought was a regular student in school, Draco Malfoy, who decided to give Y/N a hard time whenever they interacted, not seeing that Y/N wanted to be someone Draco had never truly had: a real friend. But... maybe they could be more?

Requested by: @daleanjustwantstohavefun who said “It’s me again, thanks for answering. I wanted to request a Draco x Male Slytherin. The reader has a shy personality and is just trying to befriend Draco. Draco at first is being a prick, but slowly starts to develop a crush on the reader.”

A/N: Dear, Dalean. I kinda went off with most of the storyline. I’m sorry, I haven’t had the time to write because school has been making my life so busy and stressful. I’m sorry you had to wait but I hope this fic isn’t too bad for you.

Taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @bbeauttyybbx

Word Count: 8.6K

Among the countless reasons why you were most likely going to be the talk of the entire school for the remaining months, there were four main reasons that could possibly explain it all. One, you were the son of Lucas Picquery, known to be one of the best beaters in the American National Quidditch team, having countless headlines flashed in newspapers saying, ‘Picquery beats the visitors again, in another intense American based tournament!’

Aside from giving honor to the Picquery name through the fame of a beater, you were related to Seraphina Picquery, who was one of the most popular presidents of MACUSA, also known as the Magical Congress of the United States of America, which was a big deal everywhere as she was president during the time where Newton Scamander, also known as Newt, began his journey in America, bringing both parties of the MACUSA and the British Ministry involved in a wild journey.

You, yourself, had a wild journey as well as you emigrated to England at an unprecedented time, resulting in moving into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the middle of the school year. It was a very exciting yet scary time for you as the environment in Hogwarts was much different than Ilvermorny, which was your school in America.

The only thing that made things vastly different in Hogwarts was how you, someone so blind to the norms and social standings of people in Hogwarts, ended up trying to befriend one of the most powerful and intimidating people as a way to make friends in your new school. After undergoing rough moments with that person, he unexpectedly fell for you, which was something neither you, him, or the entire school saw coming. This person was Draco Malfoy, and he was the fourth and last reason why you were going to be the talk of the town.

Moving into a whole new school, let alone, a whole new country was something you just had not expected. You were having a normal life in Ilvermorny, which was in Massachusetts, USA, and it was so far the best time of your life.

The people there were so comfortable with each other, the academics was a strong suit of yours, and being just like your father, you were a beater in your house’s quidditch team. People adored you as you were treated more like a celebrity of your own for being such a talented beater, rather than being a celebrity because you were the son of Lucas Picquery, legendary beater. This was the respect that you have always wanted from people.

During the Christmas break, you had the great advantage to head home, seeing your father and mother as they apparently had wonderful news to tell you. There was nothing better than coming home to see your wonderful parents, but adding wonderful news? Now, that is what people call a wonderful holiday.

During the first dinner back at home with your parents, it was a quiet one. Usually there would be grand dinners and parties held at your home, celebrating your return from school or bringing in old friends to spend the holidays with, but this first night was just a night with you and your parents. It was a little odd for them not to have a massive party to share their news, but nevertheless, you did not question them, rather just waited patiently for them to share whatever they had in mind with you.

“Son,” your father finally spoke as he was eating his dinner, “Would you finally like to know what the news is?”

“Sure thing, Dad.”

“Well, your mother here has been selected to join the British Ministry of Magic’s Department of Magical Law Enforcement as a person to give such American perspective on the job.” he said, pointing at your mother who seemed most happy about the announcement, “And as for me, I’m going to give up my Quidditch coaching spot for awhile and take on a role in their Department of Magical Games and Sports which I could possibly get us hell of a good seat in every sports tournament they have.”

You looked at your father with narrowed eyes, thinking you just understood that they have decided to take jobs in a country which was a thousand miles from where you were sitting. “I’m sorry, are you trying to say that you’re moving to England?”

“You mean ‘we’, which includes you, Y/N.” He nonchalantly said, taking another bite from his meal.

You were still looking at your father with a serious look, opening your mouth, waiting for a more brief explanation from him, but he was busy enjoying the food your mother had prepared. “Um, that’s it? That’s all you’re going to say to me, pops? I have a life here already, dad, a sweet one. I’m a beater in my quidditch team, I have many friends who will miss me, and I love Ilvermorny! I can’t just drop in the middle of the school year and abruptly leave everything that has shaped me to become who I am today? Can’t you just leave me here alone for the remaining months of the school year? Besides ,it’s not like I’m going to be living alone if you leave me, I live in school! Plus, who knows, I could possibly catch up with you two in England for the next year in school!”

“Look kiddo,” he said, trying to make things easier, “We thought of every possibility concerning you and we feel like it would be best to bring you with us. Imagine if something horrible happened to either of us while we’re away? Please, son, you will love Hogwarts, it’s a respectable school, and they have a great quidditch team there as well.”

“Sweetie, do this for us, okay, hon?” you mother placed a hand on yours, holding it tightly as she looked at you with a supporting smile on her face, “We’re on the same boat as you, remember? You’re not alone.”

Few days after that night, you decided to accept fate and say goodbye to what a wonderful life America has given you as you and your parents travelled to England, settling in early while it was still a holiday for both Ilvermorny and Hogwarts. You were given choices, concerning where you would reside at the moment. It was either you moved straight to Hogwarts during the holiday, getting settled early and all, or moving when the holiday ended when the new term in Hogwarts eventually would fall on.

This was something you had to deeply think about in order to not embarrass yourself as you moved in during the middle of the school year. If you moved during the holiday, that meant there were less people in school who would notice that there was a new face, entering the school, looking like a lost foolish soul at the time. This also meant that you had more time to settle in and be as far away from your parents, the ones that just had to pull you from an amazing life you had, not that they had a choice.

The other choice was to move during the new term, which meant spending the last of the holiday with your parents. It would be nice to compose your nerves in a place where you had familiar faces with. Being with people you know and love with your heart before moving to a place where you didn’t know anyone was something to consider.

In the end, you chose the first option, which was the move during the holidays. Upon your request, you parents had asked Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, to consider giving a warm welcome to you by NOT announcing the arrival of a new student in the middle of the school year. Since Dumbledore was someone who loved welcoming students his way, he decided to agree with your request, but adding a simple edit by having the professors lightly introduce you to your classmates in the most nonchalant way they could think of.

As you were sitting alone by one of the carts of Hogwarts Express, you started seeing the famous castle coming by. The nerves that had come out of nowhere had started entering your veins, bringing fear and nervousness as you were trying to think of the many ways of how to seem nonchalant about entering the school.

Obviously you didn’t want to be that one person moving in with countless baggage as if you were a new student, which you were, but you couldn’t do anything! When the express train had finally come to a stop, you were greeted by a boy, about your age wearing a black and green robe, but the platinum blonde color of his hair was the first thing that you had noticed about him. Apart from this, he was standing next to this huge giant with a thick and long beard that could be used to catch food crumbs if he had any.

Stepping out of the train, you slowly took a few steps towards the two people who were awaiting for you.

“Uh, hello there, my name is Y/N Picquely. I’m the new student from Ilvermorny.” you greeted, trying to sound as calm as ever, but the nerves in your voice made that slightly hard for you.

The platinum blonde boy looked at you, up and down, judging you based on your appearance with an emotionless look on his face. He brought out his hand, “Of course you are.” he sarcastically said, “The names Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, and apparently I’ve been assigned to help you around ‘discretely’ since you have been placed Slytherin, which is now your new house, the best house, so I expect that you show great pride in it.”

You extended your hand, shaking him with a confused look as the giant nudged Draco in the shoulder, “Ye shouldn’t be too harsh to the newcomer, Malfoy,” he pleaded. Then he sympathetically turned to you, looking at you with a tired smile, “I’m Hagrid. I’m the grounds keeper of Hogwarts.” He waved.

You gave Hagrid a more calmer look, sensing that he was more comfortable to be around with compared to Draco Malfoy, who was a student in your year. As you were walking side by side with Draco, Hagrid followed from behind, bringing your luggage with him.

“So,” Hargrid spoke again, “You must hear this often but uh, I’m a fan of your father.” he shyly said.

“Wow, thanks,” you replied, “I didn’t know he was popular here in England.” you were surprised.

“Course he is,” Draco heartlessly added, “But don’t think he’s the only beater we praise here. We too, have many excellent beaters that are born and represent England. We have Gwenog Jones of the Holyhead Harpies, Dawn Withey and Indira Choudry from the English National Team, Joey Jenkins from Chudley Cannons, heck even the Broadmoors from the Falmouth Falcons!”

“That’s awesome,” you kindly told Draco, “I bet you have amazing beaters here in school too. I used to play back in Ilvermorny.”

“Well, don’t expect to be treated like a star here as well, Picquery. The slots for our team are full and besides, I doubt you can avail a slot now, we already filled every vacant slot during the first month of the school year, when you weren’t here yet.”

“Malfoy…” Hagrid whispered from the back, warning Draco of his behavior.

Sadly, Hagrid wasn’t the best in keeping things silent, which meant that you too, could hear the tone Hagrid had given towards Draco. Still, this didn’t bother you from trying to be friends with Draco. To you, he seemed like someone you could still try to be friends with. He seemed like the person that just had to thaw out first.

After being uselessly warned, Draco rolled his eyes at himself as he brought his hand up, presenting you Hogwarts as the three of you had arrived at the castle door. “Welcome to your new home, I suppose.”

Draco seemed as if he was about to rush away from you and Hagrid but luckily, you walked towards him as he was about to open the castle doors, “Is this it for you?”

“I’m sorry,” he sarcastically said, “Did you expect me to give you a full tour? I thought you wanted things to be discrete? Besides, I have to attend to better things.”

Stunned, this left Draco scoffing and saying, “That’s what I thought.” then turned around, opening the doors widely and turning right, to make his way wherever, somewhere far away from you.

Hagrid seemed sorry for you and placed a hand on your shoulder, causing you to turn around to see that the giant gave another sympathetic look. “I’d like to apologize on his behalf. He’s always been like that since his first year. He’s just cold that way.”

“That’s alright, Hagrid. It’ll take time for me to get to know him better.”

“You? You want to be friends with Malfoy?”

“I don’t see why not?”

“Look, kiddo. I rather have you not be friends with him. Heck, I rather have Professor Dumbledore change your house. Don’t get me wrong, Slytherin is a fine house, but Malfoy OWNS Slytherin. It’s best if you don’t engage with him, or else he could turn the whole house on ya! I suggest you find some other friends in yer house.”

“He doesn’t scare me, Hagrid. I’d like to think of him as a stone cold ice cube that can be thawed out, showing his true colors once he’s all melted and cooled out.”

“Aye, if that’s what you truly want to believe,” Hagrid shook his head, “I wish ya the best. Now come, let’s get this baggage of yours to your common room.”

With Hagrid guiding you around the castle, you were looking left, right, up, and down as you were observing and analyzing everything around you. The interior and exterior of Hogwarts was quite different but at the same time somehow similar to Ilvermorny.

Ilvermorny was like the tinier version of Hogwarts and growing up in a much smaller school made Hogwarts feel like a big deal to you. The design and structure of everything in this school was much older and felt like it’s been through a lot over the years.

People here were much different compared to your old school. Sure, Ilvermorny was proper too, but it was more lively and laid back in your old school and seeing that these people act more well-maintained and formal made you a little uneasy. Would you have to act the same as them?

It was really hard to think about it, especially when Hagrid finally made a stop in front of a door. You looked at him, expecting him to open the door and keep moving but he seemed like this was his final point. “I suppose you can’t enter here?” you asked, having a hunch.

“Only if necessary but in this case, I’m done for now,” he replied, handing you your luggage carefully, “This is your common room. Inside, you’ll find your dorm. It’s most likely you won’t be alone in there, there’s still some students staying over. Make sure to make friends with ‘em, okay?”

“I sure will try,” you smiled, “See you around, Hagrid.”

Hagrid gave you a warm smile and turned around, leaving you alone in the entrance of the common room. Not one second after that did you realize that you forgot that every common room, whether you’re in Ilvermorny or Hogwarts, had a secret verbal password for each house to use when entering the room.

Hoping that Hagrid was still walking around near you, you turned around, seeing that he surprisingly wasn’t around the halls anymore, as if he took a quick turn to who knows where. You sighed, feeling like the most idiotic person alive in the castle right now.

There was nobody around the halls at the moment and the urge of unpacking and hiding in your dorm for the rest of your winter break was much needed so what you did was bring your luggage with you and walk around the castle, hoping to find a room filled with people to help you.

There were open doors nearby and seeing that there was light and a low volume of voices inside, you rushed forward, praying that you weren’t going insane. As you made it to the entrance of the open doors, a sigh of relief came from your mouth as you faced a good number of students to help you out.

Most of them were either having a meal, playing chess, or simply conversing with each other. You could have gone to any of these people but unfortunately from their body languages, it seemed as if they either wanted to use their time doing anything but help a helpless soul, or from the few looks people would give you, it seemed that they instantly identified you as the Picquery son of Lucas Picquery.

Internally groaning at yourself, you shyly and slowly made your way to your house table, walking forward to someone you could hardly miss as his platinum blonde hair stood out among the many around the room.

Draco Malfoy was having a comfortable time, he seemed to be talking lightly with his fellow friends who seemed to be quite close with each other as there was a girl, clinging onto another girl as if they were best friends, two boys sitting closely together silently and uncomfortably, and a boy, talking to Draco as if he was so tired of him today.

Before even tapping on Draco’s shoulder, all their eyes except Draco’s were on you. It caused Draco to stop talking seeing that his friends brought their attention to someone behind him. Eager to find out who stole his spotlight, he turned around with an irritated look, his eyes now on you.

You stood there, soon to be frozen as Draco and his group gave an unfriendly energy on you as there was nothing but cold looks looking at you. “Forgot to give me a tip on my excellent tour guiding, Picquery? I’ll have you know that I too come from a wealthy family, haven’t you heard?”

His friends started laughing but although some sounded like they were forcing themselves to laugh, you still shyly shook your head, “Uh, no, well yes I mean, I have heard of some good family names here, I didn’t mean to tip you if that’s what you thought.”

“Well then, off you go,” Draco snickered.

“I would love to, but uh, Hagrid seemed to have forgotten to give me the password for the common room and I was hoping you could come with me and show me to my dorm.”

“Don’t need to, the password is Viridi,” he whispered, “Your dorm should be the second room to the left, now off you go,” he waved, motioning for you to leave as his friends started snickering with him.

You gave a faint smile at him and turned around, muttering to yourself how much of an embarrassment you are to the Picquery name. As you were making your way back to the common room, your spirits were still high up in the air as you were still eager to befriend Draco Malfoy.

He was just a very thick ice that you had to use all your efforts in melting.

When you arrived at the common room door, you said, ‘Viridi,’ which you knew meant Green in Latin, then arrived to see a very Slytherin-like common room. The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling, from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in carved chairs.

The common room is a dungeon-like room with greenish lamps and chairs. This dungeon extends partway under the lake, giving the light in the room a green tinge. The common room has lots of low backed black and dark green button-tufted, leather sofas; skulls; and dark wood cupboards. One of the wooden tables has a Wizard's Chess set on it. It is decorated with tapestries featuring the adventures of famous Medieval Slytherins. It has quite a grand atmosphere, but also quite a cold one.

As you were walking across the common room, a girl who was eyeing you from the minute you entered the common room and looked at its interior, stood up from her seat on the couch and rushed, making her way to you as she offered you a wave and smile. “Hello, are you the son of Lucas Picquery?”

“Unfortunately, I am.”

“I honestly don’t know what’s so unfortunate about that but we can get to that later. I’m Astoria Greengrass, a year below you.”

“How do you know that I’m a year above you?”

“Well, I did my research the minute I heard from my father that he was having a new co-worker in the Ministry and I overheard Draco talking about you with my sister and his other friends in the Great Hall before I came up here.”

“He’s hardly a nice fellow to most, isn’t he?”

“Yes, that’s Draco.

“It’s a shame though concerning Draco, I’m quite eager to befriend him.”

“I see,” she said, sounding surprised, “Well, I wish you all the best with that. Come let me show you to your dorm-”

“This is the second time I heard someone wish me the best when it came to befriending Draco,” you stopped her, “Why?”

Astoria looked around, hoping that you had not caught the attention of the few Slytherins around the room and placed a hand on your arm, “Let’s go to your dorm first, shall we?” Then she started leading you to your dorm.

As you arrived, you placed your luggage on the empty and clean bed that was located in the middle as Astoria took a seat on a desk, sitting down properly as she tried giving you a smile. “So,” she said.

“So,” you repeated after her.

“You’ve got a lot of bravery like a Gryffindor for wanting to be friends with Draco Malfoy.”

“Is it because he ‘OWNS’ Slytherin?” you said, remembering what Hagrid told you.

“Possibly, but he’s just all around your typical bad boy. I don’t really see you hanging out with him, to be honest. You seem like such a sweet soul, Y/N. Nice guys don’t hang around guys like Draco Malfoy, I’m being honest with you.”

“I still would like to try though.”

“Why? Why him?”

There was a pause before responding to that question. You could have easily answered this, but you stood up, leaning on the wall near your bed as you sighed, “Because I don’t think he’s a bad guy on the inside. I think there’s good in him, and I wanna be that person to bring it out of him.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, plus he seems pretty.” you joked, earning a surprised laugh from Astoria as she stood up, walking towards you to place a hand on your shoulder.

“You know, your door is open, you’re lucky most of the people here are at the Hall right now.” she laughed, “You know, Y/N, I think I’d love to help you out with this. You seem like a great person and I would like to be on your side.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, “There’s a party at Ravenclaw's later, eight in the evening. Usually Draco’s gang mocks the Ravenclaw’s and their parties, but we’ve been hearing that it’s going to be an actual blast. Why don’t you try inviting him to the party? I can help you mingle with him from there on, yeah?

“Sure,” you said.

Astoria patted you on the back, “It’s getting late, you should probably start unpacking and head out for dinner later, okay?”

Nodding in response, she waved goodbye and went back to her dorm, leaving you all by yourself. As you were unpacking, the excitement of Astoria still lingered on your mind, creating a much more enthusiastic energy in yourself as there was more confidence in you.

You didn’t expect having a friend help you out on this but you were extremely grateful that you had extra help to support you in becoming friends with Draco Malfoy. This was going to be much easier since you had someone on your side.

Later on that night when you were finally done packing, you put on a jumper since it was getting chillier at the time. Seeing that you were ready to go, you left your dorm, making your way out of the common room to the Great Hall.

On your way to the Great Hall, there were some people who were looking at you, whispering to each other as their eyes were on you. You already knew that they were talking about you and how you were the son of the famous Picquery that had come to England all the way from America.

Some couldn’t contain their excitement as three people in red robes, which you assumed were the Gryffindor robes, turned around and walked towards you. Two of them seemed so uncomfortable, not because of you, but their friend in the middle who seemed so excited.

“Blimey, you’re Y/N Picquery! Son of Lucas Picuqery! Could I have your autograph and possibly a hello from your father?” the ginger-haired boy said so quickly that the girl with curly hair smacked him in the head with a newspaper that she was holding and said, “Could you be anymore irritating?” Then she looked at you with a sad smile, “We are very sorry about him, he’s just a big fan of quidditch and all.”

“That’s alright, I’ve dealt with worse before and this is nothing compared to it.” you laughed, causing the three to laugh with you.

“So, may I have your autograph?” the ginger cheekily smiled as he was ignoring the cold stare the girl was giving him.

“I honestly don’t know why you’d like mine when I could give you my dad’s, who’s the real star,” you smiled at the boy who seemed like he was about to explode of happiness.

“Bloody hell, you would do that for me?!”

“Of course, but don’t expect it to come in a jiffy, he’s all the way in the Ministry with my mom.”

“Of course, of course, of course, I’ll wait patiently!” he jumped, “Thank you so so so much!”

“Well, excellent!” the other boy said, trying to end the conversation for his friend. He gave the girl a look, motioning for her to drag their friend away, which she nodded to.

Before anything else happened the girl turned him around and offered you a small nod, “Thank you for tolerating him, see you around Y/N.”

With that, you continued your walk to the Great Hall, ignoring the other whispers and stares that people around the corridors were giving you.

As you arrived at the Great Hall, you immediately saw a hand waving at you from the Slytherin table. It was Astoria Greengrass, the first friend you had made today. She was sitting with a girl who looked like her, it must have been her sister. Sitting with them was Draco and the rest of his gang.

You looked at Astoria with wide eyes, but she still waved at you, giving you an expression that you would be fine. Gulping, you casually yet terrifyingly walked towards the group as they started giving you a much warmer look that the one they gave earlier.

“Ah,” Draco spoke, “I hear we have a guest sitting with us here today.” Then he turned around and looked at you. “Without your little friend Astoria here, you probably wouldn't even be sitting with us, am I correct?”

“Don’t be silly, Draco,” Astoria warned him, “Why don’t we welcome him, afterall, he’s a Slytherin just like us! Not to mention a pureblood, eh?” She tried sounding persuasive but she ended up sounding a little childish.

Nevertheless, Draco coldy motioned you to sit with them, securing a spot beside Astoria, who was beside Draco. You kindly sat beside your friend as Draco looked at you with such snobbiness. “I suppose you’d like a hamburger, or a hotdog, or whatever you Americans eat.” he joked, gaining laughs from his friends except Astoria who had gotten an elf to snap his fingers, giving you a turkey leg and mashed potatoes.

“A turkey would be fine, it’ll be a blast eating your kind of food. And speaking of blast, are you going to the Ravenclaw’s later? I’d really love it if you came.”

His friends looked at you, then at Draco, trying to contain their laughter as they had just witnessed the newcomer invite Draco to a party as if it was Draco’s first party to ever attend. Draco peeked, looking at you with a scoff and said, “Are you a Ravenclaw because you just sounded like you own the party and happened to have just invited me. Pff.”

“No,” you shook your head nervously, “I just thought the party would be a great place for me to get to know you, and everyone else.”

Draco scoffed again, surprised by the audacity you had, “I’ll be there,” and there was happiness in your face only until he said, “Not because of you, but because I already planned on going.” then he pointed at you while you were not looking anymore and mounted, “Is he serious?” to his friends in front of him.

Astoria sympathetically whispered to you, “At least he’s going!” which made you smile back at her.

It was ten minutes to eight in the evening but Astoria had already pounded on your dorm door, asking for you as your two other roommates looked at you, expecting you to open the door. Slightly embarrassed, you rushed to the door to see that Astoria was already prepared while you just buttoned on your dress shirt.

“Come on already, you snail!”

“Is it a British thing to be early or something, because the party doesn’t start for another ten minutes!”

“Not really, you fool, but it would be better to get yourself acquainted with some Ravenclaws first. They are the hosts after all.”

“Mm okay,” you said, putting on your jacket.

Astoria dragged you out of the common room forcefully, bringing you over to a new side of the castle which you have not made yourself familiar with. You and Astoria were at the west side of the castle as she had brought you up to a spiral tower, which she said led to the Ravenclaw common room.

The common room of the Slytherin and the Ravenclaws were much more different. Already speaking about the location, the Slytherins were based in the dungeons, which were underground, compared to the Ravenclaws who were high above the rest of the other rooms in the castle.

Arriving at the common room, there were already people filling up the room. This wasn’t just the Ravenclaws filling up the room, according to Astoria there were already people she knew from Hufflepuff and Gryffindor that already were there before the two of you.

You agreed with that when you saw the same three people that encountered you on your way to the Great Hall. The ginger-haired boy waved at you with a facial expression as if his dream came true and that he had heart eyes all over you. He was brought back to reality when the same girl beside him knocked some sense into him with a book that came from one of the Ravenclaw shelves. The boy beside him just laughed as he gave you a friendly nod which you gave back.

Astoria then led you to a group of Ravenclaws who were hanging by one of their book shelves having an early drink of punch already. “Y/N,” she said nicely, “This is Carol Bletchley, she’s a pure-blood friend of mine and one of the hosts of the party.”

The girl’s hair seemed like it had the same color as the girl who had knocked some sense into the ginger-haired boy, but this girl’s hair was much straighter. She gave a big smile as she extended her hand for a hand-shake. “It’s so nice to meet you Y/N Picquery,” she welcomed you as you shook her hand, “Everyone has been talking about you ever since you arrived.”

“And to think I was hoping for a discrete entrance into this school,” you shyly joked.

“Nonsense!” a boy who looked like her said, “Surely you had somewhat of a discrete entrance but a certain fan of yours apparently couldn’t stop talking about you. Something about getting your father’s autograph.” Which made you look up to see that the ginger-haired boy was bringing up a newspaper about your father being on the headline, it was an old quidditch one, which you do not want to question how he still had that.

“Raphael Bletchley, I’m Carol’s younger brother.”

“Nice to meet you, Raphael.”

His eyes were now drawn to something, or someone behind you as he said, “Oh wow, we have a face we haven’t seen in a long time in our parties.”

Turning around, you saw Draco Malfoy grabbing a glass of punch from the side as he was accompanied by his gang who had started to split up, leaving Draco with his two friends who acted as if they were body-guards.

“I thought Draco usually came to these parties, no?

“Came, yes,” Carol said, “But to actually stay? Hardly.”

“What do you mean?”

“He would usually come to check the party out and tell us how much of a nerdy or boring party we have.”

“Oh,” you said, “Excuse me.” you told them. You looked at Astoria who already knew that you were going straight to Draco. She gave you an encouraging nod and patted you on the back which made you start walking again.

“Hi, Draco.” you cheerfully yet shyly said, “I hear this is a first for you.”

“A first for what, Picquery?” he looked at you with a judging attitude and look.

“I hear you usually mock these parties and leave afterwards. What made you decide to linger around?”

“How are you hearing so much about me and wanting to know more about me? This is only for the first day and you already are going way out of line, Picquery.”

“I don’t think I am, Draco, I just want to be friends with you.”

“Why me of all people? Why don’t you play with little Astoria over there.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being friends with you too, Draco.”

“There is, because I don’t want to be friends with you.”

“Is there a-”

“Can you just FUCK OFF already, Picquery!”

Draco’s snap had gotten the attention of everyone in the entire room, especially the hosts who were about to walk towards you and have Draco escorted out. But Draco wasn’t finished.

“I don’t give a damn if you're the son of Lucas Picquery, alright? Just because you're famous does not mean you can get any friend you want. I don’t think you have half the talent your father has on the field. I am NOT your friend and I will NEVER be, okay? Bloody hell, this is your first day and you’re already making a fool out of yourself and out of me. I suggest you get the hell away from me now or else your puny reputation turns into shambles.”

Raphael rushed to the middle of the scene and grabbed a hold of Draco, whispering that it was time for him to go. As Draco refused to leave, squirming, “I have the right to be here, Bletchley, you don’t want my father to hear about this.”

“He’s right,” you entered their small conversation, “He has the right to be here, Raphael. We don’t want him to cause any more unfortunate events by contacting his father. This whole situation is my fault, everyone, I’ll be the one to leave.”

“Y/N, no, please.” Astoria said, rushing towards you.

“It’s nothing to worry about, Astoria.” then you looked at Draco and everyone else, “Have a great party, I hope this small situation didn’t kill the party. Rock on, guys.” you gave a sad smile as you walked past by Draco and the rest of the party-goers as you exited the common room of the Ravenclaws.

The party was something you didn’t want to think about. It might have ruined a little bit of your reputation but your reputation was something you didn’t care about anyways.

The moment you got back from the party, you headed straight to your dorm because you had nowhere else to go since you didn’t know the way to different parts of the castle yet. It would have been better to see Hagrid if you knew where he stayed so you could just live there forever until everyone else had graduated off from Hogwarts.

Despite having a lot on your mind, you managed to sleep through all your troubles, ignoring the whispers your two roommates were sharing as they had found out what had happened between the son of a famous beater and the Slytherin prince.

You woke up to them already out of their beds, having it made. When they had seen that you had woken up, they gave you a small smile and tried going back to focusing on making their bed. But you wanted to yank the truth out of them.

“You know, don’t you?” you asked.

The two of them looked unsure, hoping the other would be the one to talk but they were still playing their staring game, mentally making each other be the one to reply. You were tired of waiting for a response and waved it away, “It’s alright, of course you do.”

“We’re sorry to hear about it,” they both said at the same time, then looked at each other with a surprise. Then the one to the left of your bed said, “I suppose you haven’t heard about the good news for you?”

“I have good news? What could be good news, my father and mother getting demoted so we could go back to America? Please?” you sarcastically asked.

“Outrageous, you are, Picquery. Americans.” he said.

The one to the right of your bed shook his head, “Vincent Crabbe sprained his arm last night, the night of the party.”

“I don’t know who that is, so why should that be good news for me?” you confusingly asked.

“Because he was a Slytherin beater, well until he sprained his arm.”

“Try-outs for the next Slytherin beater are later this afternoon.” the person to your left added.

“Awesome,” you said, “I guess I could try out.” you shrugged.

“Don’t guess, you WILL, Y/N!” said a feminine voice behind you.

You turned to see Astoria Greengrass who looked at you with a soft smile as she opened her arms for a big hug that she was waiting for. You got out of bed and rushed to hug her and lift her up as she yelped and laughed. “Alright, put me down, Picquery.” she begged and when she was placed down, she looked at you with careful eyes, “I hope you haven’t given up on being friends with him.”

Ah, lovely to bring back some thoughts you thought you could sleep on forever. You sighed, scratching the back of your neck, “You know I’m surprised I didn’t cry or anything, what he said was really hurtful to be honest.”

“Oh, Draco’s like that. Besides, you’re a Picquery, you have the biggest and strongest heart I know. Trust me, you shouldn’t give up, and you should show everyone your place by earning that beater spot.”

“I guess I could. Besides, it could be a walk in the park.” you joked, only for her to nudge you on the shoulder.

“You’re in the right house, Picquery, you’re in the right house,” she patted you on the shoulder, “Now, get dressed, I have snacks we can devour by the quidditch field. I want you to practice first before the try-outs.”

You nodded, turning around as Astoria closed the dorm and ran back to the common room to grab the snacks and extra quidditch uniform she had gotten a hold of.

Back in the Great Hall, Draco was having a quiet breakfast with his gang. With Crabbe having a sprained ankle, it made his gang look miserable and weak, annoying the hell out of him. But what got him really annoyed was a single thought on his mind, swimming and swimming around his mind. That single thought was you.

He had dealt with many cases of lashing out and snapping at someone, but your case was really different. All you had wanted to do was be friends with him. He was too proud to accept the fact that there was someone who could have been his fresh start. Someone who had not fully known or witnessed the terrible things he has done in order to call him nasty things with or without him being there to hear it.

The many other situations he had placed on himself or stumbled upon never involved something nice or friendly being attempted. He was always used to receiving hate that he wanted to give back the same thing he had received. But this was the first time he had received actual niceness and warmth from a person that he was routined to give back the thing he usually was given, which was hate or negativity.

Draco had screwed up entirely and wondered why he decided to act terribly in front of someone like you. Sure, he was surprised to see that the son of someone famous wasn’t a snob like him, but he still decided to treat you the same way he treats Harry. He had many reasons to treat you badly but now, thinking about it made him ask himself truly why he had done this to you, and there was not a single real reason why. It all led up to nonsense that he was just making up at the moment. He felt like a clown, and didn’t know what to do.

Blaise saw the way he sulked and had a hunch it was about you. He decided to stop reading from his newspaper and settle things straight with Draco. “Malfoy, sulking about him?”

Draco looked at Blaise with a cold stare since Pansy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Daphne had stopped eating and conversing to listen in to the conversation. It was useless to build-up his guard and deny everything. So Draco sighed, and embarrassingly nodded. “So what, Blaise? Do you really give a damn?”

“I do, Draco. You’re my friend.”

“Pff,” Draco scoffed.

“Malfoy, I know you can be vile,” he said, which Draco looked at him with a deadly stare, making Blaise raise his hands up, “But why be so vile to the guy? He’s been nothing but nice to you.”

“I don't know Zabini, alright! Maybe I felt an emotion.” Draco stood up, getting tired of the questions as he knew there would be more after this, “I’m going to support the team and head over to the field. You coming?”

Blaise and the rest stood up, “Course we are mate, bet he’s going to be there so we’re just hoping either of you talk to each other.”

“Merlin’s beard,” Draco muttered as he rolled his eyes.

After a solid practice with Astoria, nothing felt better than going back on the field. Your muscle memory was still intact, giving you the same feeling as if you were back in Ilvermorny, practicing and giving your best in the field.

As people started coming by to watch, you spotted Draco, who had also had his eyes on you. You flew down to the bleachers to walk towards Astoria as she had spotted your uncomfortable look. She looked left, then right, to see that Draco and his gang were making their way to the bleachers as well.

“Apart from being in the same house, why the hell is he here?” you asked her.

“He’s supporting his team. He’s our seeker,” she replied, “But he shouldn’t matter. This is your time, alright?”

You nodded, looking back at Marcus Flint, who Astoria told you was the captain of the team. Great, you thought, if you got in, you’d be training with someone who had hurt your feelings on the first day of your life in Hogwarts.

You flew back to the field, meeting Marcus and the other Slytherins, trying out for beater “Right,” Marcus said, gathering everyone, “There’s three of you, but only one spot, yeah? I expect a good play despite it being only try-outs. You all are familiar with the rules, so I also expect a fair audition. Good luck to you three and may the best beater beat the rest.” Then he flew up high, which got everyone cheering as the rest of the Slytherin quidditch players came out to be part of the game.

You flew up to the side of the field, muttering small prayers as you were trying to get yourself in the game. Draco’s eyes were all on you as he was observing the way you were trying to ready yourself. ‘A true Slytherin,’ he thought when he was watching you.

When Marcus had signalled that the game started, you flew to the center of the field, aiming your bludger to one of the two other beaters that auditioned.

One of them already thought of your idea and surprised the other beater, hitting his bludger with his bat as the beater who was supposed to try and knock you out, got knocked off himself as he fell onto the field.

“Out!” Marcus Flint said, pointing at the boy, “Sorry, mate. Off you go,” he rushed him, getting back the game.

Your team was still in the lead as the chasers helped score some points, helping you out as they knew you needed some time to figure out your next plan.

‘Forget the other beater,’ you thought, ‘and knock out the enemy chasers first, that way the only way they can try scoring is by knocking me out,’ then you flew up, ignoring the other beater that had mocked the beater who fell down.

You spotted an available chaser who was holding a quaffle closely to their side. This was your opportunity, so, before the round had ended, you lifted your bludger and whacked it forcefully towards the enemy chaser.

Just before the chaser could have been knocked off his broom, the beater you had forgotten about for a second illegally flew to the chaser and bumped him, having your bludger aim at the beater who prepared to use his body as shield.

What the beater didn’t know was that the bludger he shielded his chaser from backfired, hitting you in the face which caused you to fall off your broom. It knocked the lights out of you as you fell onto the field, not feeling the pain when your body hit the ground as you were already out the moment the bludger gave an impact on your head.

There were boos towards the other beater and scared voices watching your lifeless body on the ground. Astoria wasn’t even the first to get down from the bleachers as Draco chanted ‘Accio broomstick’ from the broomstick of the beater’s broom, causing him to slip off to the ground. With a grunt, Draco flew quickly to your side even before Marcus could come over.

“Fuck, Y/N, that’s a nasty bump on your head.” Draco muttered to himself as he jumped off the broomstick to lay a hand on the back of your neck, getting your head in an elevated position. After a few seconds, your eyes opened slowly, groaning at the pain as you tried sitting up straight. But a force was stopping you.

“Hold on there, jumpy,” said a voice.

Your eyes darted to the person to your side. It wasn’t Astoria. It was Draco Malfoy. “The hell are you doing here, Malfoy?” you asked, placing a hand on your forehead.

“Are you alright, Piquery? How’s the pain? What’s seven times five? How many fingers can you see? He asked, raising his hand.

“The question is,” you said, holding up a middle finger, “How many fingers can you see?”

“Alright, alright, you’re fine.” Draco let out a small laugh. Marcus finally came by, extending a hand, “Up you go, Picquery. That was quite some show I had. Not to mention your father’s signature hit?” he joked, “That beater? Josiah Blishwick? Definitely out of the audition. You, on the other hand, you got the role.”

“Fantastic,” you admitted, “Thank you, Marcus.”

Marcus gave a small nod and walked away. Josiah Blishwick walked towards you and Draco, giving a small sad look.

Draco looked at him with a deadly glare as he brought his wand up, “Expelliarmus!” he said, causing the boy’s wand to fly away. “The hell, Malfoy! I was only here to apologize.”

“Better apologize some other time, Bitchwick. I’m not in the mood.” Draco growled. Josiah nervously turned around, running off as Draco yelled, “You’re broomstick is in the bleachers, get it a potential house elf you are!” then laughed at himself, looking back at you, who was still not laughing with him.

“I didn’t ask you to do that, anything of this.” you rolled your eyes, walking away. You were completely done with Draco. Why be so nice all of a sudden? Not buying that bullshit.

Before you could get away from Draco completely, he said from behind, “You didn’t have to.”

You turned around, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

Draco jogged towards you, “Look, I’m sorry Picqu- Y/N, alright? I was such a twit. I deserve to rot in Azkaban for giving you such a horrible welcome. All you did was just to be friends with me, but I was just the absolute worse and you may never forgive me, but I just wanted you to hear this, ‘I like you, and if you’re up to still being friends with me still, I’ll be the happiest lad in all of England.’ But if it’s not enough, I suppose I can step into your shoes and go through the agony of what I have done to you, if you were pleased with that.”

You crossed your arms, smirking, “You’d do that?”

“Merlin’s beard, I said that didn’t I?”

“Fine,” you agreed, “Let’s start tomorrow with switching places.”

“So, technically this won’t count, would it?”

Before you could ask what wouldn’t count, Draco walked towards you, cupped your cheeks and planted a quick yet soft kiss on your lips, enjoying the short time he gave himself. A smile grew on his face, then into a smirk when he saw how puzzled and surprised you were.

“N-no,” you shook your head, “I suppose that wouldn’t count.”

“Good, then maybe you can expect to encounter more until we switch places.”

“M-maybe we can practice some switching of places later, hm?” you said, catching him off guard. Your cheeks grew red, so you got a hold of your broom and flew out of the quidditch field, muttering to yourself, “Smooth, Y/N, real smooth.”

So perhaps aside from being a Picquery, dating someone who was a Malfoy would be the talk of the town for more than you could expect.

#draco malfoy x reader

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renaerys · 5 years ago

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21. “Just a boy.” (Boomer & Professor Utonium)

February Fic Prompt #21 originally requested by my indomitable beta, lordmordor. We both have a soft spot for Boomer. <3

Summary: Boomer asks the Professor for help with his science homework.

xxx

Professor Utonium could not remember the last time he’d taken a proper vacation entirely for himself. But with Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup away camping for the three-day weekend with their Girl Scout troop, the Professor had rearranged his schedule at the Townsville University Research Lab such that for the next three days, he had no work to do. Nothing due, no papers to edit, not even a single meeting with his Ph.D. students. For the next three days, he was off the grid and living that bachelor lifestyle.

After a morning run and shower, he retrieved the Saturday morning paper from the porch, ready to relax with a cup of black coffee and enjoy the rare peace and quiet of the house devoid of his exuberant, 12-year-old Super daughters. Perhaps he’d make pancakes! Oh, he hadn’t had a proper flapjack in ages…

He was not even halfway through his cup of coffee when the doorbell rang. Frowning, the Professor set aside his paper and stepped into his slippers to answer the door. He wasn’t expecting anyone as far as he could recall. Briefly pausing to check his reflection in the decorative mirror in the foyer—his salt-and-pepper hair was a bit damp from his earlier shower, and his white T-shirt and sweatpants were well-worn but clean—he opened the front door.

Two large, blue eyes stared up at him through unkempt, blond bangs. Like a deer caught in the headlights, the kid didn’t speak.

“Uh, hello? Can I help you?” The Professor peered down at the kid, trying to place him. There was something familiar about him; perhaps he was a friend from the Girls’ school?

“I-I, uh…” The kid shifted his weight awkwardly. He wore an overstuffed backpack and gripped the shoulder straps so tightly his knuckles were white.

“Yes? Are you here to see my girls? You just missed them. They’re away for the weekend.”

That seemed to spook the kid, and he flinched. “No! I mean, um, I knew they were leavin’, so I waited until they were gone to…”

The Professor frowned. Something about this boy was very familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. “Listen, I don’t know what this is about—”

“I need your help!” the kid blurted out.

Those big, blue eyes rose to meet him. Literally, rose off the ground with the kid until he was eye-level with the Professor. Recognition hit him like lightning. “Wait, I know you. You’re one of those Rowdyruff Boys who give my girls so much trouble. Bomber or something—”

“It’s Boomer, and I’m not here to cause trouble, I swear! I just need your help—”

The Professor tried to close the door, but Boomer stopped it with his Super strength easily, and he stumbled back a little, stunned. Oh god, how could he have been so careless? With the Girls gone for the weekend, he was easy pickings for their enemies! How could he have overlooked something so obvious?

Boomer had opened up his backpack, probably reaching for a weapon.

“You stay back,” the Professor warned, scrambling back through the foyer.

Boomer found what he was looking for and held it up. To the Professor’s horror, there were tears in his eyes. “Please, I swear it won’t take long!”

The Professor froze and stared, bewildered by the tears and the copy of Introduction to Physical Science clutched in Boomer’s grubby fingers. It was the same edition Bubbles and Buttercup had for their seventh grade science class. He had no words.

Boomer sniffled. “Please,” he said again, his voice cracking. “I dunno who else to ask.”

The Professor swallowed hard and tried his best to compose himself. “You want me to help you with your science homework?”

Boomer hugged the book to his chest and slowly floated back to the floor.

“I’m sorry, I don’t quite follow,” the Professor said. Why on earth would a delinquent care about science homework? “Isn’t Mojo Jojo your caretaker—”

Blue energy flared around Boomer and rattled the shoe rack in the foyer. “I can’t ask him,” he said, desperate.

“O-Okay, just calm down.” The Professor showed him his empty palms and took a step closer. His lab and the Antidote X he kept in case of emergencies were too far away; he would have to try to reason with Boomer before he did something dangerous. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you—”

“I can’t ask Mojo, okay?” Boomer cried.

“Yes, of course, I understand. I take it back.” The Professor cautiously reached for the textbook Boomer clutched to him like a talisman. “Why don’t you let me take a look, all right?”

Boomer, still teary-eyed and upset, nonetheless calmed down enough that the furniture no longer shook. Slowly, carefully, the Professor managed to gently pry the textbook from his hands.

“You know, I went to graduate school with one of the authors,” the Professor said in the hopes that conversation might mitigate the tension. “Sir Ebrum. Did you know he was knighted by the Queen of England? Pretty neat, huh?”

Boomer frowned in confusion. “Like in those fairytales?”

“Oh, it’s no fairytale. Lots of people are knighted nowadays if they’ve accomplished something important.”

That seemed to interest him. “…I didn’t know that.”

The Professor considered him. Boomer had a history of antagonizing his daughters. A menace to society, some might say. He briefly took in Boomer’s appearance—a laundry-faded, blue T-shirt, cargo pants with the hem on one leg fraying, scuffed sneakers, even his hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed this morning. There was dirt under his fingernails, and despite possessing the strength to literally break the Professor in half, he looked nervous. Like the Professor was the one with all the power, not him.

“You can learn new things every day,” the Professor said, his tone gentle. “All you have to do is study.”

Boomer opened his mouth to respond, thought better of it, and shook his head. “I can’t.”

“You can’t?”

“I mean I’m not—” Boomer cut himself off and crossed his skinny arms. He looked at his feet like they offended him deeply, but there was a deep, jaded melancholy in his eyes that had no business settling there. “I’m no good at it.”

The Professor’s shoulders fell as he listened to the words unspoken. Here was a boy who caused trouble and had the potential to inflict unspeakable harm. A boy who he knew for a fact had hurt his Bubbles and created problems for the city with the wanton use of his powers. A boy who was messing up the only vacation he’d had to himself in so, so long. A boy who had come to a place he knew he would be most unwelcome because it was somehow better than going to the person who was supposed to look out for him.

Just…a boy.

The Professor laid a tentative hand on Boomer’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “Well, whoever told you that could not be more wrong.”

Boomer looked at him wide-eyed, like the very notion went against everything he’d ever been taught to believe. “How do you know?”

“Because those who ask for help when they’re struggling will always do better than those who give up without ever trying.” He smiled reassuringly. “Listen, I was going to make pancakes for breakfast. Why don’t you come in and eat, and then you can tell me about the homework problems you’re having trouble with?”

Boomer gaped at him like a fish. “Pancakes?”

“With bananas and cinnamon. I’m supposed to be on a diet, but with my girls gone for the weekend, I get to cheat just a little.”

Boomer smiled warily. “Yeah, okay. Sounds dope.”

The Professor stepped aside to let him in and closed the front door. He paused, his hand on the knob, and wondered if this was actually a very bad idea. The textbook was heavy in his hand, the cover shabby and frayed around the edges, likely a loaner passed down over the years to kids who couldn’t afford to buy their own copies.

He followed Boomer into the kitchen, watching as he took in the modern, sleek decor but kept his hands tightly jammed in his pockets. “Why don’t you take a seat? The pancakes won’t take long.”

Boomer was quiet as he did the Professor’s bidding and sat down. He was surprisingly well-behaved as he observed the Professor’s every move—gathering ingredients, mixing the batter, timing the flips for each pancake—each action carefully logged, no matter how mundane.

So much like Bubbles.

That was interesting. He knew Mojo had created the Boys as counterparts to the Girls, but he’d never given much thought to it beyond the superficial similarities. Unlike Bubbles, however, Boomer was not comfortable expressing his feelings. Maybe he’d never had someone willing to listen. The Professor sighed softly. This was not how he’d wanted to spend his Saturday.

And yet.

“All done. I hope you’re hungry.”

Boomer ate like he’d never tasted food before. The Professor plied him with seconds and syrup, and for a good few minutes they both chowed down in comfortable silence. Boomer held his fork and knife in his fists as he stabbed his pancakes. The Professor said nothing as he cut his own food the way he’d been taught by his parents growing up: cut in front of the fork, switch hands, always eat with your right hand. Old, unnecessary habits inherited from his British parents who never let go of their roots even when they emigrated. Boomer had paused his own eating to watch the Professor a moment. He did his best to ignore the blue eyes watching his every move, not wanting to upset or embarrass the boy.

When Boomer began mimicking his table manners, the Professor bit his lip hard so as not to smile.

“Boomer, can I ask you something?”

Boomer shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

“Why do you dislike my girls so much?”

“I don’t.”

That was not the answer the Professor had been expecting. “You don’t?”

Boomer shook his head.

“Then… Then why do you and your brothers, ah…”

Boomer shrugged. “Somethin’ to do, I guess.”

Something to do, you guess.

He must have read something in the Professor’s expression. “They don’t like me, so I, um… I just stay outta their way.” He stared at his empty plate. “I heard they wouldn’t be around this weekend, so…”

The Professor was not sure what to make of him. Here was a boy with more power in his little finger than he had in his entire body, under the tutelage of a diabolical Super villain hell-bent on the destruction of everything good and pure in the world, literally created to sow chaos and destruction, and yet he was so…so…

“I’m not bad,” Boomer said. “I won’t wreck your stuff or whatever.”

So young.

“I didn’t think you would,” the Professor said.

Boomer wrung his hands and kept his eyes down, as though ashamed. And that…

That would not do.

The Professor got up and stacked their empty plates. “Have you ever done the dishes before?”

Boomer looked up, alarmed. He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Great. There’s a dish towel hanging on the oven. I’ll wash, you dry.”

They did the dishes in silence, until Boomer broke it.

“Why’re you bein’ so nice to me?”

The Professor looked down at him, but Boomer was concentrating on drying the spatula the Professor had used to flip the flapjacks.

“I suppose because you’ve been nothing but nice to me.”

“Yeah, but I’m…”

The Professor took the spatula from him and returned it to its proper drawer. “We learn new things every day,” he said gently. “Even at my age.”

Boomer’s smile was as surprising as it was heartwarming, and the Professor couldn’t help but return it.

“Come on, why don’t you show me the problems you’re working on?”

Boomer opened up his textbook, and for the next couple hours, they slowly worked through the homework together.

xxx

When Bubbles and her sisters arrived home after their super fun camping weekend, they were so excited to see the Professor.

“I missed you so much!” Bubbles gushed, launching herself at her father.

“I missed you too, sweetheart.”

“Hey Professor, how was your weekend?” Blossom asked politely.

“Yeah, did you go on a hot date?” Buttercup asked.

Bubbles giggled. “Professor!”

“No, girls, nothing like that,” the Professor said.

“I hope you weren’t lonely while we were gone?” Bubbles asked. Her big, blue eyes studied him, observed his every reaction.

“Not at all,” he said, smiling for her. “I had plenty to do to keep me busy, don’t you worry.”

Buttercup rolled her eyes. “Yeah, lotsa science experiments I bet.”

“Oh, something like that.”

“Did you learn anything new?” Blossom asked.

The Professor looked between his three special little girls, each of them watching him eagerly, their smiles full of love and devotion. “Why yes, Blossom. I certainly did.”

#Boomer #Professor Utonium #Powerpuff Girls #Powerpuff Girls fanfiction #PPG #PPG fic #February Fic Prompts #repost #this is maybe my favorite one tbh

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lovely-van · 5 years ago

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emily (part one)

Of course she had feelings for him. How could she not? Van was fucking perfect. But she didn’t want to tell him that. Emily was so used to being alone mostly, only casually dating guys, cutting things off if it seemed like too much. And she really, really didn’t want to let him in. But Van was doing his best to work his way into her life.

word count: 11k+

warnings: language, some smut, drug use etc

notes: i am so so sorry that it took me this long to post!!! i’ve honestly been just kind of relaxing since finals ended and it took me a while to edit but here is part one! also this isn’t a song fic i just didn’t know what else to name it hahaha and this is def not my fav story but it was the first piece i wrote so here ya go :)

Emily always loved parties. She loved them in high school and even more so now that she was a few years into college. Although she didn’t prefer to be the life of the party per se - she wasn’t quite outgoing enough - she just loved the atmosphere. All of the people drinking too much, dancing, making mistakes and living out their youth. Her mother always gave her the same disappointed look when she went out on a Saturday night in high school. Emily would roll her eyes, grab her jacket, and groan, “Mom, don’t look at me like that.” Emily’s mom would just shake her head and mutter something about how at least she had good grades.

Tonight was no different. It was the last Saturday before fall semester started, the last chance to let loose before classes and endless schoolwork began. Emily sat in front of her bathroom mirror, applying mascara while her friend Mary fumbled around with the speaker. “Mary, I’m dying in this silence. What the fuck are you doing with that thing?”

Mary let out a frustrated groan. “The bluetooth isn’t working. I swear I’m gonna fucking break it!” Suddenly rap music started blasting from the small speaker. Mary let out a little scream which drew a chuckle from Emily. “Finally,” Mary muttered. She slid into the bathroom behind Emily, plugging in her curling iron.

“I can’t believe summer’s over already,” Emily said, finishing up her highlighter. She gave herself one last glance in the mirror and figured she looked good enough. It was still so hot being early September she couldn’t even think about wearing a jacket, especially knowing how hot the frat houses would be.

“Ugh, I know. And we only have one year left after this!” Mary whined. Both Mary and Emily were juniors at their college while their other roommates were all sophomores. This led to them feeling really old and nostalgic often, even though they were really only halfway through their college career. Carson, one of their younger roommates, always teased them about being old women. Mary and Emily would object to this immediately, of course, putting up a fight about how they couldn’t even legally drink yet.

Emily nodded sadly in agreement, spraying on a little perfume. She left the bathroom and ran down the stairs, tightening the little pigtails she had put in for the half-up look she was digging lately.

Carson and Spencer, the other roommates, were all downstairs drinking already. They were playing some video game and occasionally shouting at it. Just as Emily passed the door at the bottom of the steps, it opened. Emily jumped, laughing when she saw it was Spencer’s girlfriend, Sarah. “You scared the shit out of me!” Emily said as Sarah giggled too.

“My bad,” Sarah said. She walked in, taking a seat right next to Spencer who wrapped an arm around her waist, leaning over to kiss her. The two were high school sweethearts and very much in love, which disgusted pretty much everyone else in the apartment. But they were cute and so happy together that the rest of their friends put up with them.

“Hi babe,” Spencer said, kissing her one more time before going back to playing. Emily fixed herself a drink and hoped to get a little buzzed by the time they left.

---

The party was in full force by the time the five of them arrived. Emily did manage to get a decent buzz going which helped when she looked around at the disgusting scene of the party. Frat parties were like no other, people grinding throughout the whole dance floor, couples making out wherever they wanted, and the floor was always sticky. Emily and Mary snagged a couple drinks from the makeshift bar in the kitchen that was really just the island and made their way into the dance floor. The DJ was playing very questionable music which was annoying to Emily since her favorite thing about parties was dancing.

Despite the shitty music that consisted of mostly shitty remixes, Emily and Mary danced hard to every song. After a few minutes, they bumped into a few people they knew who were complaining about the summer ending. They chatted for a bit, trying to discuss their upcoming schedules for the school year when they were interrupted by someone on a microphone. “Alright so clearly, Dylan here sucks as a DJ. This was his tryout and he failed. So my boy Max is gonna take over!” The crowd cheered and Emily almost felt bad for poor Dylan until the new DJ started playing some really good throwback songs. Immediately, Emily and Mary felt much better, dancing way harder and sweating even more. The other thing about frat parties is they were always so fucking hot.

Emily noticed that Carson seemed to be interested in this really short girl near them, which was pretty funny because Carson was 6’5. She was happy to see him lean down and start talking to her, and within a few minutes she was standing in front of him somehow managing to dance despite the height difference. Looking around, there were definitely a few attractive guys but none that particularly stuck out to Emily. Oh well, the night’s early.

After a few minutes, Emily’s hair started sticking to the side of her face and she knew she needed a break. “Do you wanna take a shot?” Emily shouted at Mary who nodded eagerly. The two trekked through the crowd, weaving their way through all the sweaty people. They reached the bar, passing Spencer and Sarah in the corner, giggling to themselves. “Do you guys have tequila?” Emily shouted at the bartender who nodded. She put up two fingers and smiled, “thanks!” He poured some tequila into two dixie cups and shoved them over.

“Tequila? You’ve got to be out of your mind, love.” Emily nearly choked on the shot in surprise. Love? She managed to swallow again and looked to her right. Leaning against the wall was a tall, almost ridiculously attractive man. His large hand engulfed the red solo cup that he took a sip out of. He pushed his hair back with the other hand, leaving it annoyingly perfectly tousled. He smirked at Emily.

“What’s wrong with tequila?” she questioned, leaning on the bar with one hand.

The guy wrinkled his nose. “Can’t stand the stuff. Got real fucked off it one night and well, y’know.”

“Yeah, that’ll happen. One of my friends took a shot of it once and then threw up all over the dude next to her,” Emily laughed.

The guy chuckled and took another sip. “Glad you didn’t do that to me.” Emily couldn’t help but marvel over his accent. Definitely British - plus the whole ‘love’ thing. She also wondered how the hell he was wearing a button down shirt and jeans with how hot it was in the house.

“Yeah that’d be fucking disgusting,” Emily snorted. More people were trying to come into the kitchen for drinks plus it was obnoxiously loud, which meant she had to move a little closer to the random guy. She realized she could have just left the crowded area but for some reason she didn’t want to.

“I’m gonna go back,” Mary stepped over to say. She had been talking to the bartender but she just shot Emily a smile and headed out.

“So what’s your name then?” The guy asked, bringing Emily’s attention back. She leaned up against the wall next to him.

“Emily.”

“I’m Van,” he stated with a grin. Van? Emily thought, weird name.

“Like Van Morrison or what?” she shot back. He chuckled and nodded.

“Exactly.” Emily wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or if this guy really was that attractive but she knew she didn’t want to leave him yet. His eyes were so mischievous and his smile was so cute she just felt she had to get to know him better.

Van just sipped his drink again and Emily wondered why he’d even been standing here alone in the first place. “Sooo... you wanna take a shot with me?” Emily smirked.

Van scoffed in response. “Oh, of tequila I suppose?” Emily nodded. “Alright then, I guess so. Hey, Ryan could we get two shots of tequila?” he directed at the bartender who nodded.

“Yeah, I got you.” Van pushed off his place from the wall and Emily followed, moving right next to him on the bar. Ryan poured the shots and pushed them across the counter.

“Thanks, mate,” Van said before letting out a sigh. “Why am I doing this again?” he laughed.

Emily shrugged. “For me, I guess?” Van debated this and then nodded.

“Yeah, guess so. Alright, cheers,” he muttered before he and Emily downed their shots. Van cringed, making a nauseated face. “Fucking disgustin’.”

Emily laughed, feeling pleased with herself for being able to drink it so easily. “What’s your drink of choice, then?”

“I dunno, probably just a beer. Or maybe vodka,” Van replied. He caught the bartender’s attention again and motioned for two regular drinks. More people were trying to come into the kitchen, nearly shoving the two out of the way. Emily quickly grabbed the drinks from the bartender. “Shit,” Van mumbled when a guy bumped into him, bringing his hand to the small of Emily’s back and gently pushing her back to the wall so they could lean again.

“So you’re British, right?” Emily questioned, handing him his drink.

“Yeah, I’m from Wales, moved here for school though.” He nodded his head along to the song which was actually quite good. Max was doing much better as the DJ.

“And why’d you come here?”

Van shrugged. “I dunno, I really always wanted to come to the states, I suppose. Actually one of my good mates from back home was close with a guy who came here for uni and he made it sound so amazing I thought, fuck it why not try it out? And course I love it ‘ere,” he rambled then looked down at Emily who was smiling softly up at him. Was it the tequila? Or did he somehow even hotter? Emily wanted to jump him right there. “What about you, where are you from?” Wow, his eyes are so fucking blue. And those eyelashes… Emily felt all squirmy as he stared down at her.

Emily laughed. “You’ll never guess.”

“Oh, bet I will. You’re from… New York.” Was he leaning closer to her?

“Nope.” He definitely was.

“Texas?” Was he?

“Nope.” He smelled so good. How did he smell that good in a grimy, nasty frat party?

“Okay, I give in. Tell me,” Van grinned.

“Minnesota,” Emily replied, letting out a laugh at his raised eyebrows.

“Wow, I never would’ve guessed that. I can’t say I’ve ever met someone from Minnesota, don’t think. The place with all the snow, yeah?”

Emily continued sipping on her drink. “Exactly.” Van shook his head, probably in disbelief.

“And what are you doing in California?” he mused.

Emily couldn’t help but just stare at him. God, he was fucking hot. He kept pushing back his hair or tucking a little bit behind his ear, which of course was golden brown and a little longer like she loved, curling up at the bottom of his neck. “This is a really good school. Plus, it’s always warm and the beaches are just,” she leaned her head back thinking about them, “amazing. And the parties, come on.”

Van chuckled, nodding in agreement. “Makes sense. So what year are you then?”

“I’m a junior. You?”

“Ah, well I’m actually on exchange here. I’m in my second year here, so what a sophomore? And I’ll go back and finish the other two years back in the UK.” So he was younger than her? Surprising.

“Ah so you’re young still,” Emily smiled.

“Yeah, but I love an older woman,” Van smirked and took a drink. Jesus.

The two continued to talk for quite a while, bantering back and forth and refilling their drinks a few times as well. They continued to move closer to each other as well, nearly pressed up against one another until Van shot out the age old question: “Do you wanna dance?” Emily nodded and grabbed his hand, leading him through the kitchen back out to the dance floor which was still lively. By now, even more people were making out and things were somehow even messier.

Emily was solidly drunk by now so she really didn’t care what was going on around her. She shot Van a small smile before turning around and pressing up against him. His hands immediately dropped to her waist, bringing her in closer. He was so warm and so much taller than her and Emily loved it. The alcohol definitely helped as she grinded on Van, him gripping her hips tightly. They danced together so well and they had a lot of fun too, singing along to the music. At one point, Emily felt Van’s breath on her neck and she almost couldn’t take it. She was about to turn around and kiss him, honestly, when he whispered in her ear, “Do you wanna come outside with me?” She nodded and he slipped his hand down to hers, interlocking their fingers and leading her around the kitchen and up the flight of stairs - she didn’t even know there was another floor in this house - past a few stray couples to a balcony. Van pushed open the door. “After you,” he gestured.

Emily stepped out into the balcony, glad to finally be away from the hot, sticky air inside the house. She tilted her head back and breathed, leaning her arms on the edge of the balcony. She heard the door shut and then turned to see Van fishing through his back pocket. She was surprised to see him pull out a pack of cigarettes. He put one in his mouth and then dug around more in the pocket of his black jeans for a lighter. Emily watched him light it so carefully, putting one hand near the end so the wind wouldn’t blow it out. He took a long inhale, his cheekbones sucking in and Emily couldn’t help but look at his lips wrapped around the end. Van kept the cigarette in his mouth, exhaling while he spoke. “Want one?” He asked Emily.

She shook her head. “No, I’m good. I’m kinda surprised you smoke,” she stated, continuing to watch him without really caring. Van looked exponentially hotter while smoking a cigarette, she decided.

He took another long inhale before finally pulling it from his mouth. He blew out a long stream of smoke, making sure it was away from Emily. “I know, it’s a nasty habit. But everyone back home smokes and I just couldn’t bring myself to stop.” Van laughed, looking over at Emily. They were standing really close, sides pressed up against each other. Tingles ran through Emily’s body at every place they touched.

Emily bit her lip. “Could I just actually take a hit of yours?” Nothing wrong with a little drunk cigarette right? Plus, when someone of his caliber was offering… Van nodded, taking one more long drag and to Emily’s surprise, bringing the cigarette right up to her lips. She couldn’t inhale nearly as long as Van so she didn’t try to. She figured if she hadn’t been as drunk as she was, she probably would’ve coughed too. Vans finger grazed her bottom lip as he pulled it away, smirking. Emily felt like her skin was melting off.

He put it back in between his lips and gave it a few more long pulls before finishing it. There was even a spot for cigarette butts and the ends of joints on the balcony so Van tossed it in there. The two looked out on the balcony which had a pretty spectacular view. A few blocks away, they could see the ocean. Some people on the street below were stumbling out of the party and laughing or screaming. It was like something out of a movie. The music could still be heard, though it was muffled. Van sang along to an old Fall Out Boy song quitely, nodding his head to the beat and Emily couldn’t help but be impressed. “You’re like, good,” she mumbled, turning to look at him, resting her head onto one of her hands.

Van chuckled. “Eh, not really but thanks.”

He looked down at her and Emily’s stomach jumped. Without even thinking about it twice, Emily leaned up and kissed him. Van kissed her back immediately, dropping his hands to her waist. Emily wrapped her hands around his neck, curling her fingers into the ends of his hair. She felt a little bit of stubble scratch her face and she wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol or just how attractive he was but fuck, Van was a really good kisser. He tasted like tequila and smoke and bad decisions. Emily nearly melted in his touch as he pulled her even closer. She felt so small as he pressed her against the edge of the balcony, towering over her, his hips digging into her stomach. Emily gently bit his bottom lip and a little noise emerged from Van’s throat, which caused Emily to let out a little giggle.

“What?” Van whispered, pulling away and resting his forehead against hers. She stared up at him, unable to hide her grin. She leaned in and just kissed him again lightly, for a few seconds. His hands moved up to cup her face, moving her hair behind her ear. Their lips moved slowly before Emily pulled away and leaned her head onto his chest. She breathed in - maybe a little too deep - but Van didn’t say anything, just wrapped his arms around her waist. “You wanna go somewhere?”

Emily leaned back and gazed up at him. Her vision was a little clouded but she was mesmerized by the way his eyelashes framed his eyes that were so light blue it wasn’t even fair to the rest of the world. “Yeah,” she replied, biting back a smile. Van shot her a small smile back, revealing the tiniest dimple. He reached down and intertwined their fingers, pulling Emily behind him. He led her down the stairs, through the house, nodding ‘hi’ to a few people all while keeping their hands tight to his back. At one point, someone cut in front of Van causing him to abruptly stop, which meant Emily ran right into his back. “Oof”, she muttered as Van chuckled, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand. They finally reached the back door, a cloud of smoke coming along with them.

“Fuck, think I just got stoned too,” Van laughed as he and Emily stumbled onto the street. Emily giggled, agreeing with him.

“So where are we going?” she questioned, holding his arm and leaning on him. Van slung an arm around Emily’s shoulders, keeping her close as they walked down the sidewalk, narrowly avoiding crying girls and guys who looked like they were about to vomit in the street. Van reached into his pocket and squinted at his phone, then slid it back and exchanged it for another cigarette. He lit it with one hand, keeping the other around Emily.

“You hungry or anything, love?”

Emily debated this. Of course she was hungry. There was nothing better than some drunk food plus she hadn’t eaten in many, many hours. But usually when you leave with a guy he just wants to take you straight to his place, not stop for food. “Yeah, I kinda am. Is that okay?”

Van chuckled, “‘Course, I’m quite hungry as well. Where do ya reckon we should go?”

And that’s how the pair ended up in a McDonalds at 1 AM, stuffing their faces with french fries and chicken nuggets. They were probably too drunk to be in public but honestly, so was everyone else. This McDonalds was notorious for being the place students went to after parties or bars because it was open 24 hours and in the perfect location.

“So ya were pretty hungry then,” Van laughed, nudging Emily’s foot and causing her to giggle. She had barely even spoken to him since she got her Happy Meal.

“Yeah, I guess so. I realize I didn’t eat dinner,” Emily paused and thought about it, “or lunch.”

“That’s terrible.” Van shook his head. He leaned back stretching an arm out on the back of the booth. Emily just shrugged and sipped on her Sprite.

He finished his food almost right away and Emily was kind of impressed. “You know, you don’t really look like a frat boy or anything,” Emily blurted out, leaning forward on her hand.

Van smirked. “Oh you don’t think so do ya?” Emily furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head. “Nah, I’m not in one. My roommate last year pledged and then I became quite close to ‘em all, they’re all pretty good lads. Only thing that sucks is I couldn’t live in the house with ‘em.”

“So where do you live?”

Van motioned his head backwards. “A couple blocks that way, I got one roommate and he’s alright, not real close to him or anything but he stays out of my shit which I like. Plus he’s always willing to share his weed so can’t really go wrong there I s’pose,” Van rambled on, waving his hands around. He was so animated when he spoke. Emily was trying to figure out of it was the alcohol or if he always babbled like this. Either way, she loved listening to him talk, loved the way his account sounded so thick when forming certain words.

“Mhmm. So do you think I should just go back home or…?” Emily was still pretty drunk and so was Van, meaning if one of them didn’t make a move soon they’d probably just pass out in the booth.

“Uh, if you want but I was gonna offer you to come to mine, if you wanted,” Van said seriously, his voice seeming to lower a bit.

Emily nodded, “Yeah, sure.” So the two continued to roam the streets, hand in hand and laughing with each other until Van brought them to an apartment building. He dug around in his pockets to grab his key and once they reached the elevator, Emily couldn’t help but lean up and kiss him. He was slightly surprised but he kissed her back eagerly, only pulling away once the elevator doors opened to reveal an angry looking older guy. Emily and Van tried to stifle their giggles as he rolled his eyes and pushed past them. “Oops, he looked fucking pissed.”

Van fumbled with his keys, trying to unlock the apartment door for a good few seconds. “Christ,” Van mumbled, finally pushing it open and letting Emily go in. His hand rested on her lower back, leading her into the living room first. It was small and a little messy but considering only two college guys were living there, the apartment wasn’t terrible. “Want any water or anything, love?” Van asked, walking into the kitchen and flicking on the light as Emily plopped down on the couch.

“I’m okay, thanks.” She couldn’t help but pull the soft blanket that was on the back of the couch over herself as she stretched out, leaning her head back. She heard some banging in the kitchen and wondered what Van could be doing.

After a few minutes, Van turned the kitchen light off and came back into the living room, chuckling. “You look comfy,” Van mumbled, sitting on the end of the couch a few inches from Emily, his right ankle resting on his left knee. Emily set her phone down and held back a yawn. She nodded, looking at him and waiting to see what he was going to do. Van almost seemed to be avoiding eye contact, picking at his nails. He was nervous. Emily found it adorable.

Emily pondered the situation for a few minutes. She knew she was going to lose her buzz soon - the opposite of what she wanted in this moment. Yeah, she was tired and comfortable under the fuzzy blanket but she was also inside a hot British guy’s apartment, alone with him on the couch. She would be insane to not make a move.

“Come here,” she mumbled, reaching her hands out and motioning for Van. The corners of his mouth lifted up as he scooted closer, Emily moving her legs slightly so he could fit right next to her. Emily bit her bottom lip slightly, smiling.

Van finally leaned in and pressed his lips against hers, ever so slowly. She reached up and put her arms around his neck, tugging at his hair. Van moved the blanket over a little and started rubbing the inside of her thigh gently, his other hand on her waist. Emily tried kissing him faster but Van seemed insistent on keeping it agonizingly slow, his tongue moving into her mouth teasingly. Emily let out a little whine which made him chuckle against her lips. “Hm?”

Emily decided to take matters into her own hands, pulling back and lifting Van’s hands off her, then pushed him back so he was laying on the couch. It wasn’t the easiest thing to do since he was clearly a lot bigger than her but he seemed to like it when she straddled him, putting her hands on his chest. “You’re killing me,” she whispered, leaning down and pressing a kiss on his neck. Van’s eyes fluttered shut, bringing his hands to her waist, rubbing her sides up and down gently. She leaned to the other side, hair brushing along Van’s nose but he didn’t seem bothered as he let out the smallest moan. Emily started kissing down Van’s neck, not hard enough to leave a mark but hard enough to make him squirm. She pressed kisses up his neck and across his jaw and then was about to switch back to the other side when Van leaned forward, pushing her back again and kissing her hard. Fucking finally. Van’s hands were moving everywhere and Emily could tell he was worked up, meaning her plan was successful.

“Should we go to my-”

“Yes,” Emily cut him off immediately. She climbed off him and let Van lead her to his bedroom. He shut the door and quickly pulled some clothes off the bed, tossing them in the corner. Other than that, his bed was made nicely and he even had some cute fairy lights plugged in. Emily wasted no time crawling onto the bed and pulling Van on top of her, pressing her lips to his immediately. Eventually, Emily brought her fingers to the buttons on Van’s shirt, slowly undoing them. Van started edging his hands up Emily’s shirt slowly, nearly leaving burn marks on her skin and she pulled away, tugging her shirt over her head immediately. This drew a slight chuckle from Van as he looked down at her, biting his lip.

“Christ,” Van muttered, leaning back down to kiss Emily again.

---

“Oh my god, Mary turn that fucking thing off,” Emily mumbled, curling up tighter in bed. Of course her alarm would be going off so early even though it was the weekend.

“Sorry, love, forgot to turn it off. ‘M not Mary, though.” Emily opened her eyes and had to think for a second before she remembered where she was. That’s embarrassing. She was currently lying underneath Van, her arms wrapped around his neck as he leaned carefully over her to turn the alarm off on his phone. He shut it off and then laid back on Emily’s shoulder. “But that is me mum’s name.”

Emily snorted, rubbing her eyes carefully. “I must’ve slept like, really hard,” she muttered. Van buried his head closer to her neck, sighing softly. He mumbled something, probably in agreement.

Emily closed her eyes again and replayed the events back in her head. They didn’t end up having sex, which definitely surprised her. There was some hand stuff and whatnot but that was about it before they went to bed - except Van was being exceptionally cuddly and touchy. “What time is it?” She asked.

“‘Round nine,” Van replied, “you have a cute morning voice, y’know. All scratchy.”

“Mm, thanks,” Emily smiled. “I think I have to get going though.”

Van shifted a little bit so he was laying on his side next to her, putting an arm across her stomach and pulling her a little closer. “Why’s that?”

“I work at 11.” He looked almost disappointed.

“Oh, alright. Too bad.” Emily laid next to him for a bit, trying to not make it seem like she was ditching him right away but she felt like she probably should get up soon.

She cleared her throat, “Yeah, I gotta get going.” She snuck out from under Van’s arm and sat on the end of the bed, reaching for her shirt. She slipped it on and scanned for her jeans too. She spotted them hanging off the corner of the bed, so she grabbed them and slipped them on, then grabbed her phone off the bedside table and looked at a few of the notifications. Emily could feel Van’s eyes on her but she tried to play it off. She sighed, shoving her phone in her pocket.

Van moved to sit on the edge of the bed, still only wearing his underwear. He reached forward and grabbed Emily’s hand, tugging her down close to kiss him. She pulled away after a few seconds and looked down, “Well, thanks for the fun night but I really don’t wanna be late,” she said, glancing up into Van’s eyes. His eyebrows were furrowed and he still looked sleepy and cute, which was making this more difficult.

“Um, yeah I had a really nice night with ya. Could I get your phone number or somethin’ then?”

“Oh yeah, here,” Emily murmured, handing him her phone with her Snapchat open so he could type in his username. Van handed it back and stood up, bringing his hand to her lower back.

“I’ll walk you out, love.” Van guided her to his front door before resting an arm against it and leaning down to kiss her. “See you soon, then, Emily.” He gave her a sleepy smile, hair messy and cheeks flushed.

“Bye,” Emily replied, staring at his eyes for a second before slipping out the door.

---

Emily nearly threw up when she walked outside and looked up at the sun. It was way too bright and too nice out for how she was feeling. She realized Van’s apartment was actually really close to hers, so she just decided to walk home rather than pay for an Uber.

She pulled out her phone and ignored the many texts she had missed, instead immediately calling Mary. “Pick up,” she mumbled.

After it rang a few times, Mary’s morning voice came through the speaker. “Oh my god, hey,” she mumbled.

“Hi,” Emily laughed, crossing the street. “I’m on my way home now.”

“Already? I kinda thought you were really into this guy so I thought maybe there’d be a little morning action,” Mary chuckled.

Emily bit her lip. “Yeah, he was cool but I didn’t wanna stay there forever, you know. I told him I had to work at 11.”

“Ah, okay. Well, I’m in bed so just come cuddle with me and you can tell me about it,” Mary replied with a yawn.

Sure enough, about ten minutes later, Emily was climbing the stairs and hopping into Mary’s bed. The shades were still drawn and it was nice and dark. “So what happened to you last night?” Emily started.

Mary buried her head in her pillow. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Mary, you didn’t.”

“I did,” she sighed. Mary had a habit of almost always hooking up with her ex, JJ when she was drunk. Well, and when she was sober too. It always went like this: JJ would text Mary about how he missed her, she’d go to his place, and then he’d text her the next day that he was glad they got to see each other one last time. This had happened probably ten times, at least.

“Why do you do this? He treated you so bad,” Emily replied. Which was true. JJ and Mary met freshman year and dated until about halfway through sophomore year until she found out he had been cheating on her with multiple girls in the sister sorority to his fraternity.

Mary groaned. “I don’t know, I can’t help it. Whatever, let’s stop talking about me and talk about you and this hot British guy.”

Emily tried to hold back a smile. “Um, yeah. So his name is Van, he’s like, an exchange student here. Very nice, funny. And he was hot.” Mary looked so eager to hear more about him. “What?” Emily laughed.

“What, that’s it? Give me details.”

“Okay, okay. So basically last night we ended up dancing and then he took me out on the balcony at the house, we like made out there and then we left and stopped at McDonalds,” Emily laughed, ��and then he invited me to his place which is like very close to here.”

“And?��

“And that was pretty much it. We didn’t have sex, just like other stuff you know.”

Mary raised her eyebrows. “Oh, really? Why not?”

Emily debated this. She wasn’t even sure herself. “Um, I don’t know, he seemed like he didn’t really want to, honestly. Like he was… really into doing other stuff and like never brought it up and I just kind of went with it.”

“Do you think he was a virgin or-”

“No, definitely not,” Emily cut Mary off. “He was way too good at everything. It’s hard to say, I guess.”

“So are you gonna keep talking to him or what?”

Emily shrugged. “Um, I don’t know. I would probably hook up with him again, y’know, but I don’t know. I’m not gonna reach out to him first. He’s cool, but like, you know.”

Mary nodded in agreement. “Yeah, that makes sense. Do you think he’ll message you?”

“Honestly, probably. He was like, very cuddly and stuff which was just weird. Guys are usually so not like that.”

“Yeah, definitely. Well, I’m probably gonna go back to bed for a little bit honestly, I feel like shit,” Mary chuckled, pulling her blankets up to her chin.

Emily laughed, “Yeah, I’m gonna shower and then go back to bed too.”

A few hours later, Emily was still lying in bed when her phone buzzed. She had just woken up from a nap and by now it was around 1 PM. She grabbed her phone off the night stand and almost dropped it when she saw the notification that read “van is typing”. “Shit,” she muttered to herself. After a minute or two, she got a message from Van. Emily tried to ignore it, going and checking her other social media for a while. She eventually decided to text Mary and have her come into her room and help, depending on what Van had said.

“Okay, open it.”

Mary sat next to Emily on her bed, waiting. “It’s a chat,” Emily said.

hi emily just wanted to let you know i had a really good time last night. glad to have met you and i hope i can see you again soon xx

“Oh shit,” Emily murmured.

Mary nearly snorted. “So he’s definitely into you. I don’t even know what you say back to that.” Emily groaned, flopping back on her bed.

“I don’t know either. The thing is I don’t wanna, like date him, obviously but maybe I should just talk to him a little bit and we could hang out in the future.”

“Yeah, so true.”

Emily began typing her response.

yeah i had a good time too :)

“I’m just gonna leave it at that.” Mary nodded, approving.

A few minutes later, Van replied, asking how work was. Of course, Emily had almost forgotten that she told him she was working, so she had to come up with a fake reply about it being boring. Van continued to respond fairly quickly, asking her questions about her job and then about school, and other things like that. Emily would reply, albeit not super enthusiastically, keeping the conversation going at least.

This went on for a few days. Classes started but Van continued to message Emily, switching over to pictures. Emily would open his Snapchats and bite her lip, because of course he always looked really good in them without even trying. He was really, really attractive. And he was so funny, too. He often made jokes that made Emily giggle while she was alone in bed at night. But she tried not to let this affect her.

It wasn’t until Thursday afternoon that Van hinted he wanted to hang out again. Emily was just about to start getting ready to go out with some friends.

what are you up to tonight? x

Van always ended his messages with an x. Must be a British thing.

i’m going to bars w some friends. are u going out?

Emily bumped her head along to the music Mary was playing as she slipped on her jeans.

think so. where ya heading? x

Emily responded with the names of a few bars she and her friends had discussed they were going to stop at. At around nine o’clock, Van responded with an adorable picture of him smiling, beer in hand.

Emily looked at it for a few moments before replying with a picture of herself drinking her own mixed drink. She wondered if she’d see him out.

---

About two hours later, she didn’t have to wonder anymore. Emily, Mary, and Carson finally got into their favorite bar after having to wait outside a while. The place was packed, so Emily didn’t see Van right away.

“Thought I might see ya here.” Emily was leaning on the bar, credit card in hand and waiting to order. She looked up to see Van next to her, looking ridiculously attractive, of course. His hair was pushed back, looking perfectly messy and he was wearing all black, just like her but he just had on a crew neck sweatshirt with his black jeans. He had a nearly empty cup in his hand and his eye was nearly twinkling as well.

“Yeah, me too,” Emily replied. She was a little drunk by now, already having pregamed and been to one other bar for a few drinks.

“Let me get you a drink, love,” Van said, setting his cup down and reaching into his pocket for his wallet.

“Oh, no you don’t have to.”

Van shook his head immediately. “What are you drinking?”

So Emily was caught in a bit of a tough situation. She had to stand by the bar waiting for the drink which meant she had to talk to Van. It was a little weird, after only texting back and forth for the past week. But she was still extremely attracted to him, of course. After the drinks arrived and they cheersed, Emily said, “I should probably get back to my friends,” she gestured to Mary and Carson who were laughing across the bar, “but I’ll see you later?”

Van looked a little disappointed, his eyebrows furrowed. “Yeah, yeah, sure. I’m probably staying here for a while, so.” Emily smiled and walked away.

“Wait, is that the British guy?” Carson questioned as soon as Emily was near them. She nodded. “Actually, my buddies in Theta Chi have mentioned a dude from England. Bet that’s him.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Now that I’m thinking about it, Lenny and Miller are like, really tight with him. They said he’s like, super funny and a really good guy.”

Emily leaned her head back and groaned. “Don’t say that shit to me.” Carson just laughed, knowing how she was. Emily was never one to get feelings involved with the guys she saw. It was too messy.

“I think he’s slightly attached already,” Mary pointed out. Emily shrugged, trying not to think about him.

But of course, an hour later, Van was all she could think about. Funny what alcohol will do to you. It was after midnight now, and Emily was scanning through the bar for his tall, lanky figure but she couldn’t see him. “I wonder if he left,” she mumbled.

“Who?” Carson mused, smirking.

Emily rolled her eyes. “Van, duh.” Mary and Carson exchanged a look, eyebrows raised.

“Thought you weren’t really into him?” Carson questioned.

Emily shrugged. “I’m not but I’m drunk and he’s hot, so y’know. I’ll just message him.”

She pulled out her phone and squinted at it.

hey you still at jordan’s?

Emily double checked it for spelling errors before she hit send. She responded to a few other messages before she saw he replied.

bathroom. you? xx

Emily messaged him back quickly, describing where she was in the bar and waited for him to show up. Which he did, only a couple minutes later.

“Hey,” Van said as he slid in to stand next to Emily at the table she was at.

“Hi,” she smiled.

“Hello,” Van said with a grin, directing it at Carson and Mary who were almost laughing to themselves.

“Oh yeah, this is Mary and Carson. Two of my roommates.”

Within a few minutes, Van and Carson were nearly best friends. They apparently had a lot in common. They were talking about soccer at the moment, which Emily had little to no interest in. She leaned on the table, sipping her Vodka soda as Mary chattered on about what JJ was texting her. “God, he’s such a dick,” Mary muttered, angrily typing a response. Emily snorted to herself, knowing that she would probably be going to his place later. Emily dragged her gaze over to Van and Carson who were watching some highlight video that Carson had brought up on his phone. Emily debated about what to do in this situation.

She decided to reach out and rub Van’s back gently, making him turn quickly and look at her. He had been laughing at something Carson said so he was still smiling at her, eyes shining bright.

“Another drink?” Emily asked, biting her lip as she touched his arm just for a second.

Van’s whole expression changed. “Yeah, let me get ya one, love,” he said in a low voice, giving her a small smile. Van turned and scooted away towards the bar to order.

“Dude, he’s so funny. I think I’m in love with the guy. I don’t know how you aren’t,” Carson laughed. Emily rolled her eyes but she wasn’t really listening, instead just watching Van as he talked to the bartender and laughed, his charm coming out. He was so good with people. Van returned with two drinks but within twenty minutes, he, Emily, and Carson were heading back to their apartment.

Mary was going over to JJ’s of course, and Emily was walking down the street, hand intertwined with Van’s. Carson was telling the story of how he had just gotten rejected by this girl at the bar he had apparently liked since last year and how he’d be spending the night with a bottle of lotion. “Carson, ew.” Emily laughed, nearly tripping over a curb. Van kept a tight grip on her hand, making sure she wouldn’t fall.

When they got inside the apartment, Emily slipped off her shoes and led Van up the stairs right away. Carson saluted them and headed into his own room for the night, to do God knows what. Emily quickly plugged in her fairy lights and flopped down on her bed, slipping her shoes off.

Van had his hands shoved in his front pockets, looking around at her pictures on the wall and other things. He looked particularly interested in her old record player. “This is class,” he said, carefully inspecting her records.

“Oh, it was my Grandpa’s,” she said, leaning her weight back on her hands. Van was smiling, apparently enjoying the music she had.

“Can I play somethin’?” Emily nodded. He fiddled with the record player for a second and then Emily’s eyes widened when she heard a song by one of her favorite bands ever, Turnover, start playing.

“Holy shit,” she whispered as Van came and sat next to her.

“What’s that?”

“You like Turnover?” Emily questioned, staring at him as he slipped his boots off.

“Oh yeah. Absolutely class. This album is unbelievable,” Van replied, turning to look at her.

At this moment, it was safe to say Emily was mesmerized. Yes, she was drunk again and yes, he clearly felt a lot more for her than she felt for him, but she didn’t care about any of that as she stared at him.

“What?” He whispered, eyebrows furrowing. Emily just leaned forward, grabbed his face with one hand and started kissing him. Van responded immediately, kissing back gently. He put one hand on her waist, sighing into the kiss. The music played quietly in the background but it somehow made everything better. Emily felt even more drunk off the taste of his lips as she shifted, pushing him to move back on the bed and he took the hint, lying down. Emily broke the kiss and straddled him, his hands rubbing along her legs and up to her waist.

Van looked nearly entranced in this moment but honestly, Emily felt the same way. She couldn’t stop staring at him, his eyes were hooded but still sparkling and he kept licking his lips. Eventually, Van leaned up and pressed his lips against hers, cupping her face in his hands. Emily shifted a little, which drew the softest groan from Van. Emily thought she had never heard something so beautiful in her life.

After a few minutes, Emily flipped the two over so Van was hovering over her. He seemed to be intoxicated by her as he leaned down and started kissing down her neck. He switched to the other side, running his hands along her body while biting her neck ever so gently.

“Fuck,” Emily moaned out quietly. Van stopped, biting his lip and then stared at her eyes. He kept staring as his fingers reached down to graze the hem of her shirt, which she helped to pull off right away. He kept staring as his fingers worked down, gripping onto her belt and slowly unbuckling it. Emily felt like she was about to explode as he tugged her pants off. He just kept staring at her while he slipped her underwear off, too. She had both of her hands on the side of his head, running through his hair. Emily almost squeezed her eyes shut but she felt like she had to keep them open, staring at him.

After a few minutes, Emily was a mess. She was sweating and so unbelievably turned on. “Van,” she mumbled, pulling his head up to look at her.

“Hm?” He licked his lips.

“Do you wanna fuck?”

Van shifted, leaning forward to kiss her then pulled away and started, “Love, I...” he let out a small sigh, “Emily,” he whispered. Emily’s eyes had so much want in them, it was driving Van insane. “I, ah, want to, of course I do. But I think maybe we should just wait.”

Emily bit her lip, feeling a little rejected almost. “Oh. We can stop, then.” She started to sit up.

Van gently pushed her back down on the bed. “No, no, I want to keep doing this. Emily, ah, well I fancy you a lot. Really, you’re just fucking...Christ, somethin’ else. Please, don’t think I don’t want this,” he muttered. “Just wanna wait for the whole sex part, yeah?” Emily just nodded, leaning up to kiss him again.

After about an hour, Emily was laying on Van’s chest, his arm around her, thumb rubbing up and down her arm. “Mm, I need a smoke,” Van mumbled, rubbing his eye with his other hand.

Emily’s eyes were closed, her fingers gently tracing across the lines on his stomach. “If you want, you can just open my window and smoke in here,” she murmured.

“You sure?” She nodded. Van slid out from underneath her, carefully. He reached down to slide his underwear back on and then grabbed a cigarette and a lighter out of his pocket. Emily laid on her side, watching as he pulled open the blinds and cracked open the window and lit the end of his cigarette carefully. The window didn’t have a screen so Van just flicked the ashes right outside. Emily stared at him, admiring the way the orange glow from the cigarette highlighted the details of his face. Her eyes trailed over the curve of his shoulder blades, the bend of his elbow, the little dimples at the bottom of his back. Fuck.

Van blew smoke out the window carefully, his eyes focused on something outside. He finished off the cigarette and looked around, clearly unsure of what to do with the butt. “Put it in there,” Emily whispered, gesturing to a cup on her bedside table. Van nodded, dropping it in. He leaned over to the record player and flipped the record over, as it had stopped a while ago. He turned the music down a bit and Emily held the blankets up so Van could slide in next to her. She immediately snuggled up to him, feeling how warm he was and trying to ignore the spark of his skin against hers. Van leaned down and dropped a kiss on her forehead and Emily closed her eyes, needing to remain unaffected by it all.

“Night, love,” Van mumbled, reaching his hands up to stroke her hair slowly. Emily fell asleep within a minute of this.

---

The same thing happened on Friday night. Emily was at a party with Carson - Mary at work, sadly - dancing and enjoying herself when Carson lightly hit her arm. “Hey, there’s Miller. Oh, and Van!” Carson immediately turned and walked over, grinning as they did that weird handshake thing every guy does, the three of them laughing. Emily’s eyes were drawn to Van, him wearing all black once again but she was surprised to see he was wearing a short sleeve shirt with the sleeves rolled up a little. He was rather skinny, and quite pale, honestly, but his arms did have a little outline of muscle.

Emily decided to make her way over to the three, greeting Van with a ‘hi’, who wrapped an arm around her shoulder, bringing her in for a small hug. They ended up all talking, dancing, and drinking for a while. Emily was honestly having a really fun time. Van, Miller, and Carson got along so well but Emily felt like she fit in too.

“Alright, I gotta head out. My girl’s texting me, so,” Miller said, slapping hands again with Van and Carson, nodding at Emily.

“See ya, mate,” Van said as Miller made his way out of the party. Emily realized that Van had probably come with Miller, and now here he was with Carson and Emily only.

So it was down to three. Until Carson started dancing with a girl who was quite tall, way taller than Emily but still shorter than him.

“Oh shit,” Van laughed as Carson and the girl started kissing right next to them a few minutes later. Emily laughed along with him, feeling a little grossed out by the sight. Van shook his head and turned away from the couple, then leaned down by Emily’s ear. “Dance?” he asked quietly. Emily nodded, turning around and standing right in front of Van. His hands slid down her sides, holding her hips tightly. They danced like this for a while, a little slowly, Emily leaning her head back a little onto Van’s chest. At one point, she turned around and reached up to kiss him. Van didn’t even hesitate to kiss her back, bringing his hands from her waist down to her ass. Emily pulled away after a few moments, totally breathless. Van’s hair was sticking to the sides of his face and a little sweat dripped down his neck because of how ridiculously hot the basement was. But Van still looked so good.

A while later, Van, Emily, Carson, and the girl whose name Emily hadn’t learned yet were walking home. Carson was absolutely hammered, stumbling down the street and laughing about something. The girl was trying to hold his hand but he was weaving around aimlessly, and he tripped slightly over the curb. “C’mon, mate,” Van chuckled, letting go of Emily’s hand to put an arm around Carson, helping him stay upright. They eventually made it inside Emily and Carson’s apartment, Carson heading straight to the bathroom. The girl sat awkwardly on the couch in the living room as Van asked Emily where their glasses were to get Carson some water.

“That cupboard, yeah,” Emily murmured, leaning against the counter. Van filled the glass with water from the sink.

“He’ll probably be needing this, yeah? But he’s fine, I think,” Van said with a little smile. Emily watched as he turned and headed up the stairs to take care of Carson who from the sound of it was puking his guts out. It was pretty sweet to see him acting like this, taking care of one of Emily’s friends when he really didn’t have to.

Emily made a disgusted face as she went to sit by the girl on the couch. “Carson’s not usually like this,” Emily said with a laugh.

The girl just smiled, looking a little unsure of herself. Emily heard Van laughing upstairs. “Your boyfriend’s a good guy.”

Emily looked up from her phone, “Oh, no, he’s not my boyfriend. He’s uh, yeah, no,” she laughed awkwardly.

“Oh, really? You guys seem so cute together,” the girl replied.

Emily bit back a smile. “Thanks but no, we’re definitely not together.” She stood up and climbed the stairs as Carson came bursting out the bathroom.

“Is Lauren still here?” he asked, Van standing behind him, trying to hide his laughter. Emily nodded and Carson pushed past her.

“Carson, did you brush your teeth at least?” She whisper-yelled at him as he ran down the stairs.

“He did,” Van said with a chuckle. He flicked off the light and walked out of the bathroom, grabbing Emily’s arm and pulling her close to him. He brought his hands up to her face and just stared at her for a second. “You’re quite beautiful, y’know,” he murmured. His eyes were a little squinty as his cheeks flushed from the alcohol. He was glowing.

Emily smiled, looking away. “Stop.”

Van ran his thumb across her cheek, then tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “No, I’m serious. Absolutely class.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, then leaned up and kissed him.

---

It went on like this for a while. Van got Emily’s actual phone number and started texting her everyday. Almost every weekend, the two met up at a party or bar and then spent a night together, unless they had an exam or work or something else going on. Van tried making other plans quite often, asking Emily if she wanted to go for coffee or dinner or something, but Emily always came up with an excuse. There was a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, growing worse each day. She attempted to get rid of it by ignoring Van’s requests for dates and keeping it strictly sex between them. But it wasn’t easy.

“Emily, you totally like him. Why won’t you just admit it?” Mary questioned Emily on one Saturday night that they actually decided to stay in. All of the roommates were home, watching movies and just relaxing.

They were on the topic of Van and how great he was. This happened quite often. Mary and Spencer had taken a liking to him, almost as much as Carson had. Ever since Van had taken care of him when he was throwing up, Carson basically worshipped the ground Van walked on.

“Yeah, for real. I’m telling you, I have feelings for him. And I don’t even like dudes,” Carson said, shoving popcorn into his mouth.

Emily rolled her eyes. “Guys, stop. I’ve told all of you this. Yeah, he’s cool and whatever but I just like hooking up with him. I don’t like him like that.”

Carson, Mary, and Spencer let out a collective snort. “Yeah, sure,” Spencer said under his breath. Emily shot him a dirty look.

“I’ve never even hung out with him unless we were drinking first so I don’t know where you guys are even getting this from.”

“Oh my God, Emily. Van tells me all the time that he wants to take you out on a real date but you always avoid it. He also told me you haven’t even had sex, so I know that’s not why you keep hanging out with him.”

“Carson!” Emily shouted, feeling a little blood rush to her cheeks. Carson just shrugged, eating more popcorn. “Look, I know he likes me, okay? He’s told me. And yes, he asks me all the time to get dinner and stuff, but I don't know. I just don’t date people, okay? I don’t like the idea of being with just one person. And I don’t believe in relationships.” Spencer rolled his eyes at this, most likely thinking of how much he loved his girlfriend Sarah.

Mary scoffed. “Dude, have you even hooked up with anyone else since you met Van?” Emily didn’t respond. “No. And I know that guys are still hitting you up and wanting to hang out. So what the hell?”

Emily just shook her head. “Stop trying to make me like him! It’s not gonna happen. I haven’t even really been around him when we were sober.”

Carson and Mary exchanged a look. “Okay, so invite him over,” Carson replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I’m not gonna invite him over, we’re having roommate bonding.”

“Jesus Christ, Emily. We’re watching fucking Cars right now. Invite him over, I swear to God, before I get pissed off,” Spencer shouted from the kitchen, grabbing himself a beer.

“Fine. I’ll see what he’s doing. But I’m not inviting him over til later.” Emily rolled her eyes and opened the last text she had gotten from Van.

From: van

what you up to x

From: emily :)

not much, just watching some movies with my friends. hbu?

From: van

i’m at home, just bought some weed off my roommate. you interested?

About an hour later, Emily was in the bathroom, brushing her hair out when she heard a short knock and then the door to her apartment open. She could tell it was Van, him laughing loudly along with her other roommates right away. He could really draw anyone in with that laugh. It was contagious. She sprayed a little more perfume on before shutting the light off and jogging down the stairs.

Van was sitting next to Carson on the couch, who was updating him on what was going on with Lauren, who he seemed to be catching feelings for. Van turned and looked at Emily when she reached the bottom of the stairs. His face lit up and Emily tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach it gave her.

“Hi, love,” he said with a grin, patting the spot next to him on the couch.

“Hey,” Emily replied, sitting next to him. Van squeezed her thigh gently and then kept his hand there as he turned to keep talking to Carson.

“Yeah, we went out to dinner last night. I dunno, I think I do actually like her,” Carson said, shaking his head. “And she’s a freshman! What the hell is wrong with me?”

Van chuckled. “Nothing, mate. Can’t help who ya want.” Emily bit her lip, looking down at Van’s large hand on her leg still, his thumb gently stroking across it.

“So you guys wanna smoke?” Van asked a few minutes later. There was a chorus of ‘yes’s’ and Van smiled, standing up to get his jacket. He pulled out a bag of weed, a few wraps, and his favorite lighter. “Mind if I do it here?” He asked Emily, gesturing to the coffee table.

“That’s fine,” she responded, getting up and heading to the kitchen. She grabbed a piece of paper towel, bringing it to Van.

“Oh, thanks, love.” He got to work, emptying the wraps and sprinkling the bud inside, then rolling. Emily pretended to not watch as he brought each of the blunts up to his lips, licking them to seal them. That’s... hot, she thought to herself. After a few minutes, the windows were cranked open and Van handed a blunt to Emily. “Wanna start it?” Emily nodded, putting it in her mouth and grabbing the lighter off the table. She lit it carefully, sucking in and making sure the end stayed lit. She exhaled and then brought it up to her mouth again, hitting it one more time before passing the blunt over to Van. Emily tried not to stare as he inhaled it for a long time, then blew a couple of o’s. He licked his lip and passed it to Carson.

When the first blunt was finished, Van immediately lit up the second one. By the time the five of them had all finished it, they all seemed decently high. They all had pretty distinct high personalities. Carson and Spencer were laughing so hard no sound was coming out of them. Mary had been staring at the TV for so long, entranced by some dumb show she always liked to watch while high, hand shoved in a bag of Cheetos.

And Van, well, Van was just a more lowkey version of himself while high. He was a little quieter, but he was really, really touchy, and his words a little drawn out, his voice raspier. He was laying on the couch while Emily was getting a drink. When she came back, he held open his arms and made grabby hands. Emily smiled at him, setting her cup down and sitting on the couch by him. They had to adjust a little, Van sitting up more and Emily leaning back on him. Vans eyes were barely open, but that had happened almost immediately after he had started smoking. “Hi,” he said quietly as Emily laid her head on his shoulder.

“Hi, Van.” Van wrapped his arms around her waist, grabbing one of her hands and intertwining their fingers. He stretched his fingers out, highlighting how long they were compared to Emily’s.

“Like when you say my name,” he mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm. But I just like you.” Emily shut her eyes. She could see faint designs dancing behind her closed eyelids. It had been a few weeks since she had smoked, so she was feeling a little different than usual.

“I’m so fucking tired.” Emily opened her eyes to see both Carson and Spencer standing up. “Like, I’m about to sleep so good,” Spencer said.

“Well, goodnight then,” Carson said, yawning. They both headed upstairs leaving only Mary, Emily, and Van downstairs.

“You wanna go up?” Van asked, rubbing Emily’s arm softly. She nodded, not one to speak much while under the influence.

So they got up, hands locked together, said goodnight to Mary, and ended up lying in Emily’s bed. The window was cracked open so sounds of the traffic below filled the room, along with a record Van had put on. Emily was lying on Van’s chest, eyes closed as he sang along to The Killers.

“I don’t mind if you don’t, I don’t shine if you don’t,” he sang quietly. Emily was so impressed.

“You’re so fucking good,” she mumbled against his chest. “You should be in a band or something.”

Van chuckled. “I am in a band, love.”

Emily’s eyes opened wide. She sat up, staring at Van. “Wait, what? You’re in a band?”

Van reached his hand out, tracing his thumb along Emily’s arm. “Mhmm. Didn’t I tell ya that?” Emily shook her head vigorously, clearly in shock. “Yeah, well. We’re not real big or anything. Played at a couple bars, done a couple competitions, that type ‘o thing. I was in one back home too, but obviously that’s kinda on hold.”

Emily’s mouth was still wide open. “I can’t believe this. That’s literally so hot, Van,” she groaned, lying back down on his chest. Van chuckled, pulling her in tight.

“If I would’ve known you’d react like this, I’d ‘ave defo told ya sooner.”

“What’s your band’s name?”

“Catfish and the Bottlemen,” Van replied, his voice so raspy.

“Hmm, cool name. I wanna see you perform sometime,” Emily said.

“Yeah, I’d love that, honestly. How ya feeling?”

Emily shrugged. “Okay, I guess. Starting to come down so I’m getting a little tired.”

“You wanna go to sleep?” Van asked.

She shook her head. “Mm, no not yet.” She leaned her head back to look at Van who was already staring down at her. His eyes flicked down to her lips then back to her eyes, searching them.

“Em?” He asked, licking his lips.

“Hm?”

“How come you never want to do anything normal with me? I, you know, ask you to dinner and stuff but you always say you’re busy. But then I see you every weekend, usually only when we’re drinking or somethin.’” Emily turned her head, laying back on Van’s chest. She let out a small sigh.

“Van, I... uh, I don’t really know.”

“I like you a lot, Emily. I really do. We met, what a month ago? But I think about ya all the time. And I’d really, really like to take ya out sometime on a proper date. I wanna spend more time with you.”

Emily was quiet for a moment. She sat up again, biting her lip. Van sat up a little too, staring at her. “Van, I just… don’t know what to say,” she whispered. She looked into his eyes, which were full of expectation. She could feel her own eyes starting to water just a little so she started blinking quickly, looking at her hands. Van ran his hand up her arm, around to the back of her neck. She shivered slightly at his touch.

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured. Emily chewed on her lip for a second before looking back at him.

“Okay,” she whispered. She felt so vulnerable and she knew why. Of course she had feelings for him. How could she not? Van was fucking perfect. But she didn’t want to tell him that. Emily was so used to being alone mostly, only casually dating guys, cutting things off if it seemed like too much. And she really, really didn’t want to let him in. But Van was doing his best to work his way into her life. He knew she was closed off. He knew that she had slept with a lot more people than he had. He knew that she liked to party maybe a little too much. But he didn’t care. “I’m sorry. I wish I wasn’t like this,” she muttered, quickly wiping a single tear away.

“Come here, love.” Emily crawled up closer to Van so they were only about an inch apart. “‘S okay, honest,” he mumbled before pressing his lips against hers softly. Emily’s eyes fluttered shut, kissing him back. She fell apart under his touch, Van’s hands roaming up and down her body slowly, his fingers finding their way underneath her sweatshirt. Emily was straddling Van now, but letting him be totally in control. He pulled away to tug her sweatshirt over her head. Van stared at her body for a moment, eyes wide in awe, just like he did every time she removed her clothes. It made Emily’s stomach flutter every time, too. “Flip over, hm?”

The two switched positions and Van leaned in to kiss her neck, then down her body slowly. His lips brushed against her stomach and Emily squirmed a little. He looked up at her, eyes hooded, full of want. He tugged her leggings off, tossing them onto the floor, then moved down to press kisses against the inside of her thighs. Emily was shaking as he brought his hands up to tug off her underwear, then pressed her hips down against the bed.

A few minutes later, the two had swapped positions again. Van had just let out a groan that made Emily’s eyes almost roll back into her head. “Love, do you... Should I grab a-” Emily looked up at Van, his lips swollen and hair messy from running his own hands through it.

She nodded. “If you want to, Van.” They hadn’t talked about sex since Emily had asked him the second time they hooked up. Emily never wanted to push anything and she was fine without it. But she would be lying if she said her heart wasn’t pounding right now, her stomach jumping at the possibility.

“I do, yeah.”

A few hours later, they were still awake. The record player had stopped a long time ago but neither of them seemed ready to sleep. Emily was lying on her back, Van on top of her, one arm wrapped around her waist and her arms around his neck, every part of their bodies intertwined. She was running her hands through his hair, him letting out a hum every so often. “I really like ya, Em. I really, really do,” Van mumbled against Emily’s skin. Emily smiled to herself but didn’t say anything back.

#vanfic #van mccann fanfic #catb fanfic #van mccann #my fic #lmk what y'all think #i'll post part two soon

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papermoonloveslucy · 4 years ago

Text

LOOK! TV: TURN ON OR TURN OFF?

September 7, 1971

The September 7, 1971 issue of LOOK Magazine (volume 35, number 18) dedicated their entire issue to the medium of television. Inside, there is a feature titled “Lucille Ball, the Star That Never Sets...” by Laura Bergquist on page 54.

The photograph on the cover is slightly distorted to give it the look of an image through a TV screen. The shot was taken by Douglas Bergquist in January 1971.

The issue presents a variety of viewpoints about the state of television. Is it ‘tired’ or is there an infusion of new energy to take it into the new decade? John Kronenberger writes an article that asks if cable television is the future. Hindsight tells us that it was not only the future, but is now the past.

“Lucille Ball, the Star That Never Sets...” by Laura Bergquist.

Bergquist first interviewed Lucille Ball in 1956 for the Christmas issue of Look.

The photograph is by Douglas Kirkland, a Canadian-born photographer, who not coincidentally, also took the photograph used on the cover. This shot was taken in the garden of Ball’s home in June 1971. At age 24, Kirkland was hired as a staff photographer for Look magazine and became famous for his 1961 photos of Marilyn Monroe taken for Look's 25th anniversary issue. He later joined the staff of Life magazine.

Bergquist launches the article talking about her friend Sally, who is besot with watching Lucille Ball reruns, preferring Lucy over the news. Under the headline, she sums up the purpose of her interview: “Sorry, Sally. But Lucy is a serious, unfunny lady. So how come she’s a top clown of the fickle tube for twenty years, seen at home 11 times weekly and in 77 countries?”

LUCILLE BALL: THE STAR THAT NEVER SETS...

(Lucille Ball’s quotes are in BOLD. Footnote numbers are in parentheses.)

My neighbor Sally, nine, turns out to be a real Lucy freak. Though she likes vintage-house-wife I Love Lucy best, she'll watch Lucille Ball 11 times a week, if permitted. That's how often Madame Comedy Champ of the Tube, come 20 years this October, can be caught on my local box. Ten reruns, plus the current Here's Lucy on Monday night, CBS prime time. Friends, that's 330 weekly minutes of Lucy, which should be rank overexposure. Did you know that even the U.S. man-on-the-moon walkers slipped in ratings, second time around?

Quel mystery. Variety last fall announced that old-fashioned sitcoms and broad slapstick comedy are passé, given today's hip audiences. With one big exception - Lucy. When the third Lucy format went on in '68, reincarnating Miss Ball as a widowed secretary (with her real-life son, Desi Jr., now 18, and Lucie Jr., 20), Women's Wear Daily said not only were the kids no talent, but the show was "treacle." "One giant marshmallow," quoth the Hollywood Reporter, "impeccably professional, violence-free, non-controversial . . . 100% escapism."

Miss Ball: "Listen, that's a good review. I usually get OK personal notices, but the show gets knocked regular."

So why does Sally, like all the kids on my block, love slapstick, non-relevant Lucy? "Because she's always scheming and getting into trouble like I do, and then wriggling her way out of it." A 44-year-old Long Island housewife: "Of course I watch. I should watch the news?" When the British Royal Family finally unbent for a TV documentary, what was the tribe watching come box-time? Lucy, over protests from Prince Philip. (1)

"I've been a baby-sitter for three generations," says Miss Ball briskly. "Kids watch me during the day [she outpulls most kiddy shows]. Women and older men at night. Teen-agers, no. They look at Mod Squad. Intellectuals, they read books or listen to records.... You know I even get fan mail from China?" MAINLAND CHINA? "Hong Kong, isn't that China?" No. "Where is it anyway?"

The Statistics on the Lucy Industry are numbing. In recent years, she has run in 77 countries abroad, including the rich sheikhdom of Kuwait, and Japan, where, dubbed in Japanese yet, she's been a long-distance runner for 12 years. Where are all those funny people of yesteryear - Jackie Gleason, the Smothers Brothers, Sid Caesar, the Beverly Hillbillies - old reliables like Ed Sullivan, Red Skelton? Gone, all gone, form the live tube - except for reruns dumped by sponsors, out of fashion, murdered in the ratings.

Even this interview is a rerun. Fifteen years ago, I sat in Miss Ball's old-timey movie-star mansion in Beverly Hills, wondering how much longer, oh Lord, could Lucy last? She has a different husband, a genial stand-up comic of the fast-gag Milton Berle school, Bronx-born Gary Morton, 49. He replaced Desi Arnaz, her volatile Cuban spouse (and costar and partner) of 20 years, who lives quietly in Mexico's Baja California, alongside a pool shaped like a guitar, with a second redhead wife. "Ever been here before?" asks Gary, now her executive producer, who's brightened the house decor. "Used to be funeral-parlor gray, right?"

Otherwise, the lady, like her show, seems preserved in amber. Though newly 60, she could be Sally's great-grandmother. Of a Saturday, she's unwinding from a murderous four-day workweek. Her pink-orange-fireball hair is up in rollers. Her black-and-blue Rolls-Royce, inherited from her friend, the late Hedda Hopper, is parked in the driveway. But in attitude and opinion, she comes across Madame Middle America, despite the shrewd show-biz exterior. Good egg. Believer in hard work, discipline, Norman Vincent Peale. Deadeye Dickstraight, she talks astonishingly unfunny - about Vietnam, Women's Lib, about which she feels dimly, marriage to Latins, books she toted up to her new condominium hideaway in Snowmass, Colo. "Snow" is her new-old passion, a throwback to her small-town Eastern childhood. For the first time in family memory, this lifelong workhorse actually relaxed in that 9,700-foot altitude for four months this year, learning to ski, reading Pepys, Thoreau, Shirley MacLaine's autobiography, "37 goddamned scripts, and all those Irvings" (Stone, Wallace, etc.). She had scouted for a mountain retreat far away from any gambling. Why? Is she against gambling? "No, I'm a sucker. I can't stay away from the tables."

From yellowing notes, I reel off an analysis by an early scriptwriter. Perhaps she comes by her comic genius because of some "early maladjustment in life, so you see commonplace things as unusual? To get even, to cover the hurt, you play back the unhappy as funny?"

Forget any deep-dish theorizing. "Listen, honey," says Miss B, drilling me with those big blue peepers, "you've been talking to me for four, five hours. Have you heard me say anything funny? I tell you I don't think funny. That's the difference between a wit and a comedian. My daughter Lucie thinks funny. So does Steve Allen, Buddy Hackett, Betty Grable."

BETTY GRABLE THINKS FUNNY? "Yeah. Dean Martin has a curly mind. oh, I can tell a funny story about something that happened to me. But I'm more of a hardworking hack with an instinct for timing, who knows the mechanics of comedy. I picked it up by osmosis, on radio and movie lots [she made 75 flicks] working with Bob Hope, Bert Lahr, the Marx Brothers, the Three Stooges - didn't learn a thing from them except when to duck. Buster Keaton taught me about props. OK, I'm waiting."

Well, I hedge, I caught Miss Ball in a few funny capers on the Universal lot this week. Like one day, in her star bungalow, she throws a quick-energy lunch in the blender - four almonds, wild honey, water, six-year-old Korean ginseng roots, plus her own medicine, liver extract. "AAAGH," she gags, then peers in the mirror at her hair, which is a normal working fright wig, "Gawd," she moans, "it looks as if I'd poked my finger into an electric-light socket!" No boffo line, but her pantomimed horror makes me laugh out loud. Working, she is fearless - dangling from high wires, coping with wild beasts. She talks of animals she's worked with, chimps, bears, lions, tigers. "I love 'em all, especially the chimps, but you can't trust their fright or panic. Like that baby elephant who gave a press job to a guest actress." (2) What's a press job? "Honey, once an elephant puts his head down, he keeps marching, right through walls." Miss Ball puts her own head down, crooks an arm for a trunk, and voila, is an elephant. Funny as hell. So off-camera she's no great wit, but then is Chaplin?

Four days a week, through the Thursday night filming before a live audience, she labors like some hungry Depression starlet. Monday a.m., she sits at the head of a conference table, lined by 12 staffers, editing the script. Madame Executive Tycoon in charge of everything, overseeing things Desi used to do. Also the haus-frau, constantly opening windows for fresh air and emptying ashtrays. She wears black horn-rims, three packs of ciggies are at the ready. "Do I have to ask for a raise again?" she impatiently drills the writers, "I've done that 400 times." "QUIET!" she yells during rehearsal, perching in a high director's chair, a la Cecil B. DeMille. "Isn't somebody around here supposed to yell quiet?" She frets about the new set. "Those aisles - they're a mile and a half wide. What for?" The audience is too far away, she won't get the feedback from their laughs are her life's blood. (Once I hear Gary Morton on the phone, in his British-antiqued executive office, saying: "We need your laugh, honey. Go down to the set and laugh; that's an order.")

That physical quality about her comedy, a la the old silent movies or vaudeville - which were the big amusements of her youth - seems to transcend any language. (A Moscow acting school, I was told, shows old Lucy clips as lessons in comic timing.) So what did she learn from that great Buster Keaton?

"At Metro, I kept being held back by show-girl-glamour typing. I always wanted to do comedy. Buster Keaton, a friend of director Eddy Sedgwick, spotted something in me when I was doing a movie called DuBarry - what the hell was the name? - and kept nagging the moguls about what I could do. Now a great forte of mine is props. He taught me all about 'em. Attention to detail, that's all it is. He was around when I went out on a vaudeville tour with Desi with a loaded prop." What's that? "Real Rube Goldberg stuff. A cello loaded with the whole act - a seat to perch on, a violin bow, a plunger, a whistle, a horn. Honey, if you noodge it, you've lost the act. Keaton taught me your prop is your jewel case. Never entrust it to a stagehand. Never let it out of your sight when you travel, rehearse with it all week." Ever noodge it? "Gawd, yes. Happened at the old Roxy in New York. I was supposed to run down that seven-mile aisle when some maniac sprang my prop by leaping out and yelling 'I'm that woman's mother! She's letting me starve.'" What did you do? "Ad-libbed it, and I am one lousy ad-libber."

After 20 years, isn't she weary of playing the Lucy character? "No, I'm a rooter, I look for ruts. My cousin Cleo [now producer of Here's Lucy] is always prodding me to move. She once said Lucy was my security blanket. Maybe. I'm not erudite in any way, like Cleo. But why should I change? Last year was big TV relevant year, and I made sure my show wasn't relevant. Lucy deals in fundamental, everyday things exaggerated, with a happy ending. She has a basic childishness that hopefully most of us never lose. That's why she cries a lot like a kid - the WAAH act - instead of getting drunk."

Aha! Is Lucy the guileful child-woman, conniving forever against male authority - whether husband or nagging boss - particularly FEMALE? ("None of us watch the show," sniffed a Women's Libber I know, "but she must be an Aunt Tom." Still, I ponder, hasn't that always been the essence of comedy, the little poor-soul man - or woman - up against the biggies?)

"I certainly hope so. You trying to con me into talking about Women's Lib? I don't know the meaning of it. I never had anything to squawk about. I don't know what they're asking for that I don't have already. Equal pay for equal work, that's OK. The suffragettes rightly pressed a hard case - and when roles like Carry Nation come along, they ask me to play them, perhaps because I have the physical vitality. But they're kind of a laughingstock, aren't they? Like that girl who gave her parents 40 whacks with an ax? Didn't Carry Nation ax things, was she a Prohibitionist or what?" (3)

She'd just said nix to playing Sabina, in the movie of Thornton Wilder's The Skin of Our Teeth. Why? "I didn't understand it." She turned down The Manchurian Candidate for the same reason. "Got that Oh Dad, Poor Dad script the same week and thought I'd gone loony." If she makes another movie, she'll play Lillian Russell in Diamond Jim with Jackie Gleason, "a nice, nostalgic courtship story that won't tax anyone's nerves." (4)

Is Miss Ball warmed by the comeback of old stars in non-taxing Broadway nostalgia shows like No, No, Nanette? (5)

"Listen, I studied that audience. I saw people in their 60's and 70's enjoying themselves. That had to be nostalgia. The 30's and 40's smiled indulgently, that Ruby Keeler is up there on the stage alive, not dead. For the below 30's, it's pure camp. I don't put it down, but it’s not warm, working nostalgia, but the feeling 'Ye gods, anything but today'

"Maybe I'm more concerned about things that I realize. I told you politics is definitely not on my agenda - I got burned bad, back in the '40's signing a damned petition as a favor. (6) Just say the word 'politician,' and I think of chicanery. Too many subversive angles today. But I must be one of millions who are so fed up, depressed, sobbing inside, about the news...the atrocities, the dead, the running down of America. You can't obliterate the news, but the baddest dream is that you feels so helpless.

"I was sitting in this very chair one night, flipping the dial, and came to Combat! There were soldiers crouching in bushes, a helicopter hovering overhead. Nothing happening, so I make like a director, yelling, 'Move it! This take is too LONG!' It turned out to be a news show from Vietnam. That shook me. There I was criticizing the director, and real blood was dripping off my screen... That drug scene bugs me. It's ridiculous, self-indulgent. We're supposed to be grateful if the kids aren't on drugs. They're destroying us from within, getting at our youth in the colleges. OK, kids have to protest, but how can they accomplish anything if they're physically shot?

"One of the reasons I'm still working is that people seem grateful that Lucy is there, the same character and unchanging view. There's so much chaos in this world, that's important. Many people, not only shut-ins, depend on the tube, too much so - they look for favorites they can count on. Older people loved Lawrence Welk. They associated his music with their youth. Now he's gone. It's not fair. (7) They shouldn't have taken off those bucolic comedies; that left a big dent in some folks' lives. Maybe we're not getting messages anymore from the clergy, the politicians, so TV does the preaching. But as an entertainer, I don't believe in messages.

"Some Mr. Jones is always asking why am I still working - as if it were some crime or neurotic. OK, I'll say it's for my kids. But I like a routine life, I like to work. I come from an old New England family in which everyone worked. My grandparents were homesteaders in New York and Ohio. My mother worked all her life - during the Depression in a factory."

What does she think of the new "relevant" comedy like All in the Family? "I don't know... It's good to bring prejudice out in the open. People do think that way, but why glorify it? Those not necessarily young may not catch the moral. That show doesn't go full circle for me."

Full circle?

"You have to suffer a little when you do wrong. That prejudiced character doesn't pay a penance. Does he ever reverse a feeling? I'm for believability, but I'm tired of hearing 'pig,' 'wop,' 'Polack' said unkindly. Me, I have to have an on-the-nose moral. Years ago, the Romans let humans be eaten by lions, while they laughed and drank - that was entertainment. But I’m tired of the ugly. Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers dancing, that's my idea of entertainment. Anything Richard Burton does is heaven. Easy Rider scared me at first because I knew how it could influence kids. But at least that movie came full circle. They led a life of nothing and they got nothing. Doris Day, I believe in her. Elaine May? A kook, but a great talent. Barbra Streisand? A brilliant technician."

On her old ten-minute daily interview radio show, (8) she once asked Barbra, like any star-struck civilian: How does it feel to be only 21, a big recording artist and star of the Broadway hit Funny Girl? "Not much," said Barbra. "That cool really flustered Lucille. It violated everything she believes in," says cousin Cleo Smith, who grew up with Miss B in small-town Celoron, N.Y. "For her, nothing ever came easy. She didn't marry until she was 30, or become a really big star until she was 40. She's still so hard on herself, sets such rigorous standards for herself as an actress and parent. She honestly believes in all the old maxims, that a stitch in time saves nine, etc. She's literal-minded, a bit like Scarlett O'Hara. Does what needs doing today, and to hell with tomorrow."

Her self-made wealth a few years ago was reckoned at $50 to $100 million. After her divorce, she reluctantly took over the presidency of the Desilu studio and sold it six years later to the conglomerate Gulf & Western for nearly $18 million. Does that make her the biggest lady tycoon in Hollywood? (The 179 original I Love Lucy reruns now belong, incidentally, to a CBS syndicate; her second Lucy Show, to Paramount. She owns only the current Here's Lucy - OK, go that straight?)

"Hah! Like Sinatra, I owe about three and a half million bucks all the time. That figure is ridiculous. All my money is working. I lost a helluva lot in the stock market last year and haven't recouped it. It's an illusion that people in show biz are really rich. The really filthy rich are the little old ladies in Boston, the old folks in Pasadena, who've had dough for years and haven't been seen since."

The divorce from Desi Arnaz can still set her brooding. "It was the worst period of my life. I really hit the bottom of despair - anything form there on had to be up. Neither Desi nor I has been the same since, physically or mentally, though we're very friendly, ridiculously so. Nobody knows how hard I tried to make that marriage work, thinking all the trouble must be my fault. I did everything I could to right that ship, trotting to psychiatrists. I hate failure, and that divorce was a Number One failure in my eyes... Anything in excess drives me crazy. He'd build a home anyplace he was, and then never be around to enjoy it. I was so idealistic, I thought that with two beautiful babies, and a beautiful business, what more could any man want? Freedom, he said, but he had that. People don't know what a job he did building that Desilu empire, what a great director and brilliant executive he was yet he let it all go....Maybe Latins have an instinct for self-destruction..."

Was that the conflict, a Latin temperament married to an old-fashioned American female? "It has a helluva lot to do with getting into it and getting out. The charm. But they keep up a big facade and don't follow through. No, the machismo didn't bother me, I like to play games too.

"Desi and I had made an agreement that if either of us wanted to pull out of Desilu, the other could buy. I wanted to go to Switzerland with the kids, anywhere to run away, but he wanted out. The I found out that for five years, our empire had taken a nose dive, and if I wanted to get my money back, I had to rebuild it first. For the first time in my life, I was absolutely terrified - I'd never run any show or a big studio. When I came back from doing the musical Wildcat on Broadway, I was so sick, so beat, I just sat in that backyard, numb, for a year. I'd had pneumonia, mononucleosis, staph, osteomyletis. Lost 22 pounds. Friends told me the best thing I could do physically, psychologically, was go back to work, but could I revive Lucy without Desi, my old writers, the old crew?"

You didn't like being a woman executive? "I hated it. I used to cry so much - and I'm not a crier - because I had to let someone go or make decisions I didn't understand. There were always two sides to every question, and trouble was I could see both sides. No one realizes how run-down Desilu was. The finks and sycophants making $70,000 a year, they were easy to clean out. Then during the CBS Jim Aubrey regime, I couldn't sell the new pilots we made - Dan Dailey, Donald O'Connor, Ethel Merman. I couldn't sell anything but me." (9)

Was it tough to be a woman bossing men? "Yeah. It puts men in a bad spot. I could read their minds, unfortunately, wondering who is this female making this decision, not realizing that maybe I'd consulted six experts first. I'm all wrong as an executive, I feel out of place. I have too many antennae out, I'm too easily hurt and intimidated. But I can make quick surgical incisions. I've learned that much about authority - give people enough rope to hand themselves, stand back, let them work, but warm them first. Creative people you have to give special leeway to, and often it doesn't pay off. Me, I'm workative, not creative. I can fix - what I call 'naturalize.' I'm a good editor, I can naturalize dialogue, find an easier way to do a show mechanically.

But I didn't make the same marriage mistake twice. Gary digs what my life is, why I have to work. We have tranquility. We want the same things, take care of what we have."

She shows me Gary's dressing room, closets hung with shirts and jackets - by the dozen. "My husband is a clothes and car nut, but it's a harmless vice. Better than booze or chasing women, right?" (His cars include a 1927 Model T Ford, a Mercedes-Benz 300 SL, an Astin Martin, a Rolls-Royce convertible.)

"Anyone married to me has an uphill climb. Gary and I coped by anticipating. We knew we should be separated eight, nine months a year, so he tapered off his act, found other thing to do - making investments, building things. He plays the golf circuit, Palm Springs, Pebble Beach, and tolerantly lets me stay at Snowmass for weeks. Sun just doesn't agree with me. He didn't come into the business for five years. I didn't want to put him in a position in which he would be ridiculed. I could tell that he was grasping things - casting, story line. I said, 'You've been a big help to me. You should be paid for it.' "

On a Friday night, I dine with the Mortons. Dinner is served around 6:30, just like in my Midwest hometown. Lucille is still fretting about this week's show - "over-rehearsed; because there were so many props, the fun had gone out of it." Gary, just home from unwinding his own way - golfing with Milton Berle, Joey Bishop - asks if I'd like something to drink with dinner? Coke or ginger ale? "No? I think we have wine." No high living in this house, but the spareribs are superb. "Laura asked me an interesting question," he tells his wife. "Like isn't there a conflict when a husband in the same business - comedy - marries a superstar? I told her I'd never thought of it before."

They met the summer when Lucille was rehearsing Wildcat, and he was a stand-up comic at Radio City Music Hall, seven days a week. "We both came up the hard way," he says. "I got started in World War II, clowning for USO shows. I've been in show biz for 30 years and can appreciate what she goes through. Lucy can't run company by herself. Maybe with me around, when she walks on the set, her mind is at peace. I pop in from time to time, on conferences, rehearsals. I can tell from her if things are going well, if the laughter is there. She's a thoroughbred, very honest with me, a friend to whom I can talk about anything. She never leaves me out of her life; that's important for a man. Do you know how many bets were lost about our marriage lasting? It's been nearly ten years now, and I've slept on the couch only once."

Past dinner, we adjourn promptly to the living room, and a private showing of Little Murders. It's not a pretty movie of urban American life, and Lucy talks back indignantly to the screen. (10) The flick she rally like was George Plimpton's Paper Lion, with the Detroit Lions, which she booked under the illusion it was an animal picture. "At the end, 12 of us here stood up and cheered, and I wrote every last Lion a fan note. You know that picture hardly made a dime?"

On a house tout, I'd noted the Norman Rockwell and Andrew Wyeth albums in the living room, and a memo scotch-taped to her bathroom wall: "Get Smart with N.V.P."

N.V.P. Is that Norman Vincent Peale, her old friend and spiritual mentor? "Yes. He marred me and Gary. I still adhere to his way of thinking because he preaches a day-to-day religion that I can understand. Something workable, not allegory. Like how do you get up in the morning and just get through the day?

"Dr. Peale taught me the art of selfishness. All it means is doing what's right for you, not being a burden to others. When I was in Wildcat, he dropped around one night saying, 'I hear you're very ill, and working too hard.' 'Work never hurt anybody,' I protested. But he reminded me I had two beautiful children to bring up, and if I was in bad shape, how could I do it? I've learned you don't rake more leaves than you can get into the wheelbarrow. I've always been moderate, but I was too spread around, trying to please too many people. You don't become callous, but you conserve your energies."

What about her kids? Passing a newsstand, I'd noted a rash of fan mags blazoned with headlines about Desi Jr., something of a teen-age idol, and at 18 a spitting image of old pop. (A rock star at 12, he'd recently garnered very good notices indeed for a movie role in Red Sky at Morning.) "Why Lucille Ball's Son Is So Bitter About His Own Mother," read the El Trasho covers. "Patty Duke Begs Desi Jr. To Believe Her: 'You Made Me Pregnant.' " Does the imbroglio bother this on-the-nose moralist?

"I worked for years for a quiet personal life and to have to personally impinged on, with no recourse, is hard. I brought Patty to the house, feeling very maternal about her, saying look at this clever girl, what a big talent she is. Now, I can thank her for useless notoriety. She's living in some fantastic dreamworld, and we're the victims of it. Desi being the tender age of 17 when they met, she used him. She hasn't proved or asked for anything. I asked Desi if he wanted to marry her and he said no. My daughter helped outfit the baby, which Patty brought to the house, but did she ever say thank you?

"Desi's going to CIA this fall." Not the CIA? No, the new California Institute of the Arts, where he'll study music. "Yes, he's very much like his father, too much sometimes - I just hope he has Desi's business acumen. I'm glad he didn't choose UCLA or Berkeley or a school full of nonconformists. Lucie just now wants marriage and babies - maybe she'll go on to college later.

"I took the kids out of school deliberately. Desi was at Beverly Hills High, Lucie at Immaculate Heart."

Why? "I didn't like the scene - it was the usual - pregnant girls, drugs." That goes on at Immaculate Heart? Sure. "A lot of girls who boarded there were unhappy misfits, and Lucie was already working in the nunnery. All the friends she brought home were the rejected. I'm that way myself."

Did they mind, well, your stage-managing their lives? "No, they were as sick of that weird high school scene as I was. I made them a proposition - told them to think it over for a month, while I was in Monaco. Do you want to be on the show? I told them the salary would be scale, that most would be put in trust. They'd be tutored and not able to graduate with their classes. They both thought they were going to the coast, but working with a tutor, they really got turned on by books for the first time. They wanted to be in show business, and I wanted to keep an eye on them."

Of course her show is nepotism, she grants. "Cleo thought a long time before becoming the producer, wondering if it wasn’t overdoing family. Nobody seems to be suffering from it, I told her." Thursday night show time is like a tense Broadway opening night. Gary Morton, in stylish crested blazer, warms up the audience, heavy with out-of-town tourists. "Lucy started out with another fellow, can't remember his name.... What is home without a mother? A place to bring girls." Lucille bursts out onstage, exuding the old MGM glamour, fireball hair ablaze, eyelashes inches long, in aquamarine-cum-rhinestone kaftan. "For God's sake," she implores, "laugh it up! We want to hear from you... Gary, have you introduced my mom?" Indeed he has. Loyal, durable, 79-year-old Desiree "DeDe" Ball, her hair pink as Lucille's, has missed few of the 409 Lucy shows filmed to date, and is on hand as usual with 19 personal guests. Gary also asks for big hands for Cleo, and her husband Cecil Smith, TV critic for the LA Times, who has also appeared on the show. (11)

One day Desi Jr. wanders on the set, just back from visiting his father in Mexico. He'd gone with Patty Duke and the baby. The young man does have Latin charm, and apparently talent. I ask him a fan-mag query: Is it rough to be the spin-off of such famous show-biz parents?

"Well, I grew up with kids like Dean Martin, Jr., and Tony Martin, Jr., and we had a lot in common." What? "We all had houses in Palm Springs." Any generational problem with Mom? "She's found the thing she's best at, and sticks to it. As long as she has Snowmass, she has an escape, some reality. I realize she lives half in a man's world, and that must be tough on a woman. My father - he worked hard for years, and then he'd had it. This is silly, weird, he felt. He aged more in ten years than he had in 40. I'm like him. I feel life is very short. He's had major operations recently, and he's changed a lot."

Patty Duke is six years older than Desi Jr., paralleling the six-year age gap that separated parents Lucy and Desi. "Patty is a lot like my mother, the same drive, and strong will, a perfectionist...But I'm never going to get married. Marriage is unrealistic, expecting you to devote a whole life unselfishly to just one person. Do you know people age unbelievably when they marry? From what I've seen, 85 percent of married couples are miserable; 14 percent, just average; one percent, happy." (12)

His mother's own childhood, in little Celoron, an outspring of Jamestown, N.Y., was oh-so-different from her kids'. "She was always a wild, tempestuous, exciting child," say Cleo, "doing things that worried people, plotting and scheming, though she knew she'd get in trouble." Interesting, because that's one basic of the Lucy format, Miss B forever finagling second bananas like Vivian Vance into co-trouble. "One summer, she conned me into running away. It was only to nearby Fredonia, but in her sneaky way she really wanted to catch up to a groovy high school principal who was teaching there. He played it very cool, calling Mom and telling her we were staying overnight in a boarding house. On his advice, when we got home, DeDe acted as if we hadn't been away. That devastated Lucille, no reaction, nothing."

The classic Lucy story line also has her conniving against male authority, whether husband or boss, now played by Gale Gordon. "I need a strong father or husband figure as catalyst. I have to be an inadequate somebody, because I don't want the authority for Lucy. Every damned movie script sent me seems to cast me as a lady with authority, like Eve Arden or Roz Russell, but that's not me.

"No, I don't remember my own father," says Miss Ball. "He was a telephone lineman who died of typhoid at 25, when I was about three. I do remember everything that day, though. Hanging out the window, begging to play with the kids next door who had measles... The doctor coming, my mother weeping. I remember a bird that flew in the window, a picture that fell off the wall.

"My brother Fred [who was born after her father's death] was always very, very good. He never did anything wrong - he was too much to bear. I was always in trouble, a real pain in the ass. I suppose I wasn't much fun to be around." To this day, says Cleo, Lucille suspects Fred is her mother's favorite, even though DeDe has devoted her whole life to this daughter.

Family ties were always fierce-strong. After her father's death, "We lived with my mother's parents, for a while. Grandpa Hunt was a marvelous jack-of-all-trades, a woodturner, eye doctor, mailman, bon vivant, hotel owner. [And also an old-fashioned Populist-Socialist.] He met my grandmother, Flora Belle, a real pioneer woman and pillar of the family, when she was a maid in his hotel. She was a nurse and midwife, an orphan who brought up four pairs of twin sisters and brothers all by herself. He took us to vaudeville every Saturday and to the local amusement park. When Grandma died at 51, all us kids had to pitch in, making beds, cooking.

"Yeah, I guess I am real mid-America, growing up as a mix of French-Scotch-Irish-English, living on credit like everyone else, paying $1.25 a week to the insurance man, buying furniture on time. But it was a good, full life. Grandpa took us camping, fishing, picking mushrooms, made us bobsleds. We always had goodies. I had the first boyish bob in town and the first open galoshes.

"My mother then married Ed Peterson, a handsome-ugly man, very well-read. He was good to me and Freddy but he drank too much. He was the first to point out the magic of the stage. A monologist came to town on the Chautauqua circuit. He just sat onstage with a pitcher of water and light bulb and made us laugh and cry for two hours. For me, this was pure magic. When I was about seven, Ed and mother moved to Detroit, leaving me with his old-fashioned Swedish parents, who were very strict. I had to be in bed at 6:30, hearing all the other kids playing outside in the summer daylight. Maybe it wasn't that traumatic, but I realize now it was a bad time for me. I felt as if I'd been deserted. I got my imagination to working, and read trillions of books."

The adult Lucille, talking to interviewers, used to go on and on about her "unhappy" childhood, little realizing that she was reflecting on her mother, to whom she is passionately devoted. "Just how long do you think you lived with the Petersons?" asked DeDe one day in a confrontation. "Three YEARS? Well I tell you it was more like three weeks."

"I left home at 15, much too early, desperate to break into the big wide world. Looking for work in New York show biz was ugly, without any leads or friends or training other than high school operettas and plays and Sunday school pageants. I was very shy and reticent, believe it or not, and I kept running home every five minutes. I got thrown in with older Shubert and Ziegfeld dollies and, believe me, they were a mean, closed corporation. I don't understand kids today who get easily discouraged and yap about doing their own thing. Don't they know what hard work is? Where are their morals? I always knew when I did wrong, and paid penance."

Yet she was venturesome enough to sit in on some recent Synanon group-therapy sessions for drug addicts. "They wanted me to raise some money, and I wanted to find out what it was about. The games were fascinating, wonderful, until I couldn't take it any more. The other participants kept bugging me: What are you here for? Are your children drug addicts? I had to start making up problems."

For two decades, she's been risking her neck in those murderous ratings, outlasting long-ago competitors like Fulton Sheen, and now up against such pleasers as pro football and Rowan and Martin. (13)

Suppose the ratings drop, what would she do?

No idea. "Might take a trip on the Inland Waterway form Boston to Florida. In my deal with Universal, I can make specials, other movies, TV pilots. I wouldn't have to ski 'spooked' at Snowmass." What's that? "Honey, I have to be careful. If I break a leg 500 people are out of work. (14) I'd be happy in some branch of acting with some modicum of appreciation. Listen, it never occurred to me, in life that I'd fail ever, because I always appreciated small successes. I never had a big fixed goal. When I was running Desilu, it drove me wild when people asked, 'Aren't you proud to own the old RKO studio where you once worked as a starlet?' What $50-a-week starlet ever walked around a lot saying, 'I want to own this studio'?

"I don't know what you've been driving at, what's your story line? But it's been interesting, talking."

FOOTNOTES: HINDSIGHT IS 20/20

(1) This refers to a rare 1969 BBC documentary about Britain’s royal family that gave the public an inside look at the life of the Windsors. In one scene, the family was watching television, and on the screen was “I Love Lucy”, much to the chagrin of Prince Philip. Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip were mentioned on the series, especially in the episode “Lucy Meets the Queen” (ILL S5;E15).

(2) Lucy is referring to a 1967 episode of “The Lucy Show” titled “Lucy The Babysitter” (TLS S5;E16) in which Lucy Carmichael babysits three rambunctious chimps for their parents, played by Jonathan Hole and Mary Wickes. In the final moments of the show, Wickes reveals a fourth sibling - a baby elephant! The animal went wild and pushed Wickes (what Ball described as a “press job”) into one of the prop trees. The trainer had to physically subdue the elephant to get it away from Wickes, who injured her arm. The final cut ends with the entrance of the baby elephant.

(3) Lucy is conflating (probably intentionally) the stories of real-life prohibitionist Carrie Nation (1846-1911), who famously hacked up bars and whisky barrels with an axe, and Lizzie Bordon (1860-1927), who famously hacked up her parents with an axe. (Photo from the 1962 TV special “The Good Years” starring Lucille Ball and Henry Fonda.)

(4) There was never a film version of Thornton Wilder’s play Skin Of Our Teeth which was on Broadway in 1942 starring Tallulah Bankhead as Sabina, the role offered to Ball. There were several television adaptations; one in Australia in 1959; one in England the same year starring Vivian Leigh as Sabina; one in the USA in 1955 starring Mary Martin (above) as Sabina; and a filmed version of a stage production starring Blair Brown as Sabina in 1983. Although it is possible that Lucille Ball might have been considered for the role of the sexy housemaid Sabina in 1955, the article says that the role was “just” offered to her, so it probably refers to a 1971 project that never materialized. Wilder’s story tracks a typical American family from New Jersey from the ice age through the apocalypse.

(5) In 1971, there was a popular revival of the 1925 musical comedy No, No, Nanette on Broadway. The cast featured veteran screen star Ruby Keeler and included Helen Gallagher (playing a character named Lucille, coincidentally), Bobby Van, Jack Gilford, Patsy Kelly and Susan Watson. Busby Berkeley, nearing the end of his career, was credited as supervising the production, although his name was his primary contribution to the show. The 1971 production was well-reviewed and ran for 861 performances. It sparked interest in the revival of similar musicals from the 1920s and 1930s. The original 1925 cast featured Charles Winninger, who played Barney Kurtz, Fred’s old vaudeville partner on “I Love Lucy.” In that same episode (above), they sing a song from the musical, "Peach on the Beach” by Vincent Youmans and Otto Harbach. Like the revue in the episode, the musical is set in Atlantic City, New Jersey.

(6) Lucy is referring to her 1936 affidavit of registration to join the Communist Party. Lucille said she signed it to appease her elderly grandfather. The cavalier act caught up with Ball in 1953, when zealous red-hunting Senator Joe McCarthy tried to purge America of suspected Communists. Although many careers were ruined, Ball escaped virtually unscathed.

(7) The popular big band music series “The Lawrence Welk Show” (1955) was unceremoniously canceled in 1971 by ABC, in an attempt to attract younger audiences. What Lucy doesn’t mention is that four days after this magazine was published, the show began running brand new shows in syndication, which continued until 1982. Welk, despite not being much of an actor, played himself on “Here’s Lucy” (above) in January 1970.

(8) “Let’s Talk To Lucy” was a short daily radio program aired on CBS Radio from September 1964 to June 1964. Most interviews (including Streisand’s) were spread over multiple installments.

(9) To showcase possible new series (pilots) Desilu and CBS aired “Vacation Playhouse” (1963-67) during the summer when “The Lucy Show” was on hiatus. This would often be the only airing of Lucy’s passion projects. “Papa GI” with Dan Dailey as an army sergeant in Korea who has his hands full with two orphans who want him to adopt them. The pilot was aired in June 1964 but it was not picked up for production. “Maggie Brown” had Ethel Merman playing a widow trying to raise a daughter and run a nightclub which is next to a Marine Corps base. The pilot aired in September 1963, but went unsold. “The Hoofer” starring Donald O’Connor and Soupy Sales as former vaudevillians aired its pilot in August 1966. No sale!

(10) Little Murders (1971) was a black comedy based on the play of the same name by Jules Feiffer. The film is about a young nihilistic New Yorker (Elliott Gould) coping with pervasive urban violence, obscene phone calls, rusty water pipes, electrical blackouts, paranoia and ethnic-racial conflict during a typical summer of the 1970s. Definitely not Lucille Ball’s style of comedy! Paper Lion (1968) was a sports comedy about George Plimpton (Alan Alda) pretending to be a member of the Detroit Lions football team for a Sports Illustrated article.

(11) Cecil Smith appeared in “Lucy Meets the Burtons” (HL S3;E1) in 1970 playing himself, a member of the Hollywood Press with a dozen other real-life writers. The casting was a way to get better coverage of the episode (featuring power couple Dick Burton, Liz Taylor, and her remarkable diamond ring). The gambit worked and the episode was the most viewed of the entire series.

(12) Desi Jr.’s 1971 views on marriage did not last. He married actress Linda Purl in 1980, but they divorced in 1981. In October 1987, Arnaz married dancer Amy Laura Bargiel. Ten years later they purchased the Boulder Theatre in Boulder City, Nevada and restored it. They lived in Boulder with their daughter, Haley. Amy died of cancer in 2015, at the age of 63.

(13) From 1952 to 1957, Catholic Bishop Fulton J. Sheen hosted the inspirational program “Life Is Worth Living”, winning an Emmy Award in 1953, alongside winners Lucille Ball and “I Love Lucy.” “Here’s Lucy” was programmed up against “Monday Night Football” on ABC and “Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In” on NBC. Instead of ignoring her competition, Ball embraced them by featuring stories about football and incorporating many of the catch phrases and guest stars from “Laugh-In.”

(14) Lucy spoke too soon! Just a few months after this interview was published Ball did indeed have a skiing accident in Snowmass and broke her leg. With season five’s first shooting date approaching, Ball was faced with either ending the series or re-write the scripts so that Lucy Carter would be in a leg cast. She chose the latter, even incorporating actual footage of herself on the Snowmass slopes (above) into "Lucy’s Big Break” (HL S5;E1).

Elsewhere in the Issue...

“This Was Our Life” by Gene Shalit includes images of Lucille Ball in the collage illustration.

A week after this issue of Look hit the stands, the fourth season of “Here’s Lucy” kicked off with guest star Flip Wilson and a parody of Gone With the Wind. Three days later, Ball guest-starred on his show.

Not to be outdone, LOOK’s rival LIFE also devoted an entire issue to television, on news stands just three days later.

Naturally, “I Love Lucy” didn’t escape mention! I’m not sure why the show’s run is bifurcated: 1952-55, 1956-57. Actually, the show began in 1951 and ran continually until 1957.

Click here for more about Look, Life and Time!

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azwriting · 5 years ago

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A Jealous Tango (The Writer and The Photographer, Harry Holland x Reader) - Chapter Five

Hi everyone! Here is chapter five sorry it took so long, but nonetheless I hope you enjoy! Also the lack of Harry gifs is disturbing... Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Summary: Harry and (Y/N) go to the mall where much to Harry’s dismay a pretty girl catches a lot of unwanted attention.

Warning(s): Language, Not edited

Word Count: 2004

Kingston, England was on the verge of June, the warmth of the summer months beginning to stick, and Harry was happy? He felt like the word did little to sum up how he felt but everything was going well, he did not feel that gaping hole in his chest anymore. The vast black hole had seemed to vanish and the British boy had a sneaking suspicion on why.

Knocking on the dark blue door beforehand, Harry let himself into the neighbor’s flat. It had become a regular occurence, for the curly haired boy to let himself in over the past few weeks, his knocks were always drowned out by the blaring tunes. Kicking off his converse Harry tiptoed into the oddly silent house searching for any signs of life. At the white dining room table sat Hayley in a pair of sweatpants and what looked to be an old high school t-shirt, editing a book cover on her laptop. “Hey” She greeted her eyes barely lifting from the brightly lit screen.

“Hey” Harry responded, scratching the back of his head as his eyes scanned the downstairs for a particular brunette. It’s not that he did not like the twin girls, in fact he got along with them quite well, many of the days and nights of the month of May spent over here. Harry had practically become their fourth roommate and first official British friend. It was just he had plans with one in particular today.

“She’s upstairs.” Hayley laughed watching Harry’s roaming eyes.

The boy spun back to face her, “Wha- I didn’t even ask where she was?” The one twin only remained silent, lifting her eyebrows into a ‘seriously’ look, a look which caused a faint blush to appear on Harry’s neck and cheeks.

“She’s ‘writing’” Hayley added, her hands lifting from the keyboard to do air quotes as she said “writing.”

Furrowing his eyebrows, Harry gave her a questioning look, “What does that mean?” He mimicked her air quotes. And as if on queue loud thumping was heard from ceiling, Hayley only snickering too herself. “Oh you’ll see.”

Trekking up the stairs Harry heard the faint sound of the thumping again and what he believed to be singing. At the top of the stairs were three white doors, one door to his right was cracked open slightly. He approached the door, the door that led to her room, knocking slightly before poking his head in. The humorous sight on display in front of him had Harry covering his mouth to hide his laughter. (Y/N) clad in black pjs, which to his luck included a pair of shorts, was dancing around her room wildly. Her headphones were in as she twirled and jumped around singing along to the song.

“Ob la di, ob-la-da, life goes on, bra. La-la, how the life goes on. Ob-la di, ob-la-da, life goes on, bra. La-la, how the life goes on!” She shouted into her imaginary fist of a microphone, eyes closed and completely oblivious to the other person now in her bedroom. A malicious smile worked its way onto Harry’s face, she was practically asking for it. Quietly sneaking up behind her, Harry outstretched his hands ready to attack. (Y/N) continued on in her blissful ignorance, still shouting out the words to the song.

Her arms shot up as the chorus came giving Harry the perfect opportunity to quickly grab her sides. A loud shriek escaped (Y/N)’s lips, eyes wide in horror as she spun to find Harry laughing and clutching at his chest. “You fucker!” She screamed, ripping off her headphones, Harry only staggering back to fall onto her neatly made bed. (Y/N) only stood there trying to rein in her racing heartbeat, giving Harry a look that could kill.

“The Beatles really?”

“I hate you.” She deadpanned, ignoring his question, and lightly punching his arm.

“I’m sorry, it was too perfect of an opportunity to give up!” (Y/N) rolled her eyes setting her headphones down onto her desk, still a bit startled. Propping himself up on her bed, Harry eyed her pajamas once again, “Did you forget we are going out today?” For the second time this morning, (Y/N)’s eyes widened.

“Um..No?” (Y/N) grinned sheepishly at the boy, she had been attempting to get into the writing mood, but had gotten sidetracked. Harry rolled his eyes feigning annoyance but, his large smile betrayed him.

“Hurry up and get dressed!” (Y/N) gave him a quick innocent smile before rushing into her bathroom with a pile of clothes tucked into her arms.

The Westfield Mall was… overwhelming. Sure (Y/N) had been to the Mall of America, but that was familiar places. As she walked around Westfield, eyes scanning the stores, she realized hadn’t even heard of half of them. Harry had been showing her around, introducing her to new stores for the past hour. The two were quite simply just having fun and enjoying each other’s company.

“So did you always write or was it something you just stumbled upon?” Harry pondered as he took a large sip from his drink. (Y/N) peeled her eyes away from the patterns on the tile floor, her eyes falling onto his. Both of their hearts leaping just a tiny bit.

“I think I was always meant to tell stories in some way or another. When I was little, before I could even write full sentences, I would create these little books of just drawings and I would tell stories based on the images to my classmates.” Harry laughed at that, earning him that shy smile of hers that was always destroying his heart piece by piece. “When I got into my early teens, I started writing fanfiction.” Harry lifted an eyebrow at that. “Don’t you say a word!” (Y/N) giggled into the palm of her hand before continuing. “So yes, I guess writing, storytelling, was always in the works for me.” Harry nodded imagining a little (Y/N), pigtails and wide eyes telling stories to the other toothless children in her classroom.

“Is there a music store in here?” (Y/N) questioned as she swung her bags back and forth, in between her and Harry. “Ye-” Harry’s response was cut off by a high pitched squeal, piercing through the mall nearby. (Y/N) and Harry shared a concerned look before identifying the source, two teenage girls in their school uniforms. The two girls were wide eyed gawking at them from the other side of the hall.

“Uh-Oh.”

Harry muttered bracing himself for the ambush. Ever since Tom had risen to fame, Harry started getting noticed just for being Spiderman’s brother. He even had his own fanbase… The girls rushed over, shoes clacking heavily against the white tile.

“Oh my god, it’s you!” One girl gushed her cheeks burning.

Harry went to speak up when the second girl interrupted him, “I, well we absolutely love your book!” Harry’s jaw snapped back up in surprise, looking over to a grinning (Y/N). Sometimes he forgot she was famous.

“Awe thank you!” (Y/N) responded making the girl’s giggle at the difference in accents.

“Your book really helped me to embrace myself and my inner crazy. It helped me realize that it's okay to be different.” The first girl added. (Y/N)’s eyes shone in admiration, she would never get over hearing how her book had helped others. The book that had taught her to heal was now helping others, it was beautiful.

“I’m so glad, would you like a picture?” The two girls nodded rapidly, the second retrieving her phone from her purse. “Well perhaps my trusty photographer can take the photo?”

The girls finally looked over to Harry, eyes widening even more. “Harry Holland!” The girl handed him her phone, both of their eyes flickering back and forth between the Harry and (Y/N). “Are you two friends?” The girls both smirked.

(Y/N) moved to stand in between the two girls, a large smile on her face. “Yeah, It’s a pretty small world isn’t it?”

(Y/N) and Harry continued on heading towards the music store, conveniently located on the other side of the shopping center. “You know it’s really nice meeting fans…” (Y/N) sighed, trailing off.

“Yeah?” Harry pushed, of course he knew how amazing it was, but he sensed there was more to her statement.

“I-I always felt like an outsider growing up, didn’t really fit in with the crowds. Things got better after I met the twins in high school, but I was still different. It warms my heart hearing from people that I, little ol’ me, helped them accept their differences and appreciate it.” Harry offered her a small smile.

“I know what you mean, I still struggle with feeling on the outside, especially after Tom. Everyone does a great job of making sure my brothers and I don’t feel that way, but sometimes you can’t help feeling like your standing in his shadow. But I don’t feel that with you.” Harry would never admit it, but he felt like he was standing in the blistering hot sun when he was with her, no shadows to be found.

The two split up once they were inside the music store, (Y/N) hunting down a John Williams record while Harry sorted through the CD’s. He did not pay much mind to her until he heard a deep “Hi” echo throughout the store. Harry’s head instinctively lifted searching for the origin of the greeting, finding something much to his dismay. A tall brunette worker stood in front of (Y/N), grinning down at her. Harry stood up straight, the CD’s he was ransaking through now forgotten. He watched as the guy flirted shamelessly with (Y/N), who in return only smiled back. Maybe she was just being polite or maybe she thought he was cute. Whatever the case, Harry’s stomach dropped as he continued to watch the events unfold.

“You’re American? That’s so cool!” He could not handle it anymore, he could not allow for it to get out of hand. What if he asked for her number? Harry quickly zigzagged through the aisles of music, stopping once he was in front of (Y/N).

“Hey,” Harry pushed himself in between the tall brunette and his favorite American, “Um… your… Aunt… Jemima called she needs our help!” And with that, Harry wooshed (Y/N) out of the music store, her record hunt being abandoned.

“Harry!” (Y/N) called in protest, but he only continued to guide her out into the main hall of the mall. “My Aunt Jemima? The syrup lady? What the hell was that about?” (Y/N) demanded once they were far enough from the store. She could almost laugh at his excuse, but she was not sure as to why he felt the need to use it.

“I was saving you from that asshole back there.” Harry simply stated as they walked towards the exit.

“What? Harry he was only helping me find my record!”

He rolled his eyes at that, “Oh please! Helping my ass!” (Y/N) scoffed crossing her arms, her bags whacking Harry slightly.

“Oh so what about the girl at the burrito place? Was she just helping make your burrito?” Harry’s head whipped over to look at her, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“This is different, she was just doing her job.” (Y/N) laughed at that, head dropping back for dramatics.

“Oh did her job include being all over you and not so subtle winks?” That silenced Harry, he did not recall the girl being over the top like that. His attention had been elsewhere…

“I didn’t notice.”

(Y/N) sighed once again, uncrossing her arms. “I swear on everything, I’m going to kick your ass when we get home.” Harry smirked, nudging his shoulder into hers.

“Oh… I’m getting a little excited!” (Y/N) bit back a laugh, both of the friends returning to their previous calm and joyful moods. Neither one wanting to admit that there bickering had been about the jealousy growing inside them.

“Stop or else I’ll have to call Aunt Jemima.”

Taglist:

@aloneinherroom

@ineedabifriend

@with-my-soul-and-heart

#Harry Holland #harry holland imagine #harry holland x reader #harry holland x you #Harry holland x y/n

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mercurysnitch · 5 years ago

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Living In The 70s

Summary: Tallulah finds herself in a decade she’s never visited before. It’s a significant visit for Roger too.

A/N: Yes, the Tallulah oneshot is finally here. My christmas present to you all. Probably no one’s gonna read it cos it’s Christmas, but whatever, it’s done now so here you go. I was planning to have a new Ben x reader oneshot up for Christmas but as usual it’s not finished yet. Maybe it’ll be my New Years post. And I have no idea when Mother Mercury part 3 will appear, it’s taking me longer than I was expecting (as usual). I am working on it though.

Anyway, some background to this oneshot: I mentioned this incident in the “epilogue” of Though You’re Many Years Away (at the end of Part 6) without thinking much of it, but then I was inspired to write it. So this is 12-year-old Tallulah seeing Roger in 1978 (aka the beginning of the short hair era). I’m not convinced she actually sounds like a 12-year-old here (it’s been a long time since I was that age, alright?) but hey, I tried. At this point she would have been living in NYC for a few years but I imagine her still speaking with her natural British (London) accent when she’s around Roger. I think I mentioned this somewhere in TYMYA but just to be clear: Roger essentially loses his memories of Tallulah (and Y/N) after she goes back to her present - not straight away, but by the time he wakes up the next morning they’ll all be gone. So he’s never told anyone about Tallulah, because he never remembers her for long enough. Present Roger has gotten most of his memories back though. As always, don’t worry about how the time travel works, it’s a mystery.

This has only been lightly edited, so sorry if I’ve missed any typos. It took me a long time to work out the ending, but I think it all flows ok. But anyway, I decided I might as well put this out and stop agonising over it, so here you are.

Title is from the Skyhooks song. (If you’re not familiar, Skyhooks were about the closest thing Australia had to a home-grown glam rock band back in the early 70s. Incidentally, they played the Sunbury Festival in 1974... alongside Queen, whose set allegedly did not go well, though it might have just been the roadies causing trouble rather than the audience) The story has nothing to do with the song lyrics, I just thought it was a catchy title.

Warnings: Light swearing, inaccurate twelve-year-old, weird tone shifts.

*******************************************************************************************

Tallulah's phone buzzed. The screen showed a single word: Dad. Weird, she thought, he wouldn't normally ring this early. She answered the call with an attempt at a cheery "Morning, Dad." "Afternoon, Loolie" Roger replied automatically. "How are you, love?" "Awake" Tallulah grumbled. "I'm sorry to wake you so early, sweetheart," her father told her, "but I needed to talk to you. Your mum told me you travelled again yesterday, but she said this time was… different?" "It was" Tallulah agreed, annoyed that her mother had immediately told her father what had happened. "How was it different?" Roger asked. "I went to the 70s" his daughter responded. "What year?" he probed. "1978. You don't remember?" Tallulah replied incredulously. "Strangely enough, no" Roger explained. Suddenly he realised what his daughter's question was implying. "Did something… memorable happen in 1978?" he asked gently. "I think… I think it was the first time you'd ever seen me travel" Tallulah said quietly. "Well, you'd think I'd remember that" Roger commented. "So, tell me what happened." "Well, I left from my bed…" Tallulah began.

Tallulah found herself on a chair in an unfamiliar room. She groaned as she took in her surroundings. When her head cleared, she realised she was in a dressing room of some kind. Must be backstage somewhere. Ooh, I wonder if it's Live Aid? I'd love to go there one day. She stood up gingerly, trying to decide whether it would be safe to leave the room. She was still looking around, trying to work out roughly when she'd ended up, when the door suddenly opened, and her father's voice flowed into the room. "I'm sure it's in here Fred, just give me a minute, alright?" Roger called over his shoulder, not paying attention to the room in front of him. He looks young. Very young. The door was almost fully closed before he noticed the blonde girl standing next to the vanity desk.

"What the fuck? Who the hell are y-wait, how old are you? What are you doing in here?" he asked, angry and very confused. "Dad?" Tallulah breathed, still trying to guess how old he was. Roger hastily pushed the door all the way shut. "Alright, what's going on?" he asked crossly. "Dad, don't you remember?" Tallulah pleaded, suddenly very scared. Does he not know who I am? Is this the first time for him? "Remember wh-?" Roger started to question her again, but stopped abruptly as a flood of memories suddenly came rushing back. "Tallulah?” He breathed. “Are you Tallulah?" She nodded, still near tears. "But… but…you're only three… how?" he asked, struggling to process the revelation. "Actually, right now, I'm twelve. I'm time travelling from the future" Tallulah explained, matter-of-factly. Then Roger’s shocked comment registered properly. "Wait a minute, did you say I'm three? What year is this?" He was still travelling when I was three. "It's 1978, love" Roger said gently. 1978. 78. I'm in the seventies. Holy shitballs. "You alright?" he asked softly, seeing the shock on his daughter's face. "Yeah, it's just that… this is the first time you've seen me travel, isn't it?" she asked. "This isn't the first time for you?" he replied. "God no," Tallulah laughed, "I've been travelling since I was little." More than half my life, actually.

Suddenly the blood drained from her face. Shit. I shouldn't have said that. I can't tell him about his future, it's the rules. Crap. Despite the massive revelations he was grappling with, Roger couldn't help noticing the abrupt change in his daughter's expression. "Are you ok, love?" he asked gently. "You look scared. Why are you- hang on." He stopped abruptly as the implications of Tallulah's statement finally registered. "If this isn't the first time for you, but it is for me, that means… I'm going to see you again, aren't I?" "Yes" Tallulah nodded. "When?" Roger asked simply. "I can't tell you Dad, I'm sorry. It's against the rules" she said sadly. "Rules?" he questioned. "Yeah, I'm not allowed to tell you about your future cause you might try and change it and, like, that would be bad" she explained. All Roger could say to that was a flabbergasted, "Oh. Right."

"So anyway," Tallulah said casually, "how long since you last saw me, Dad?" Roger thought for a moment. "Four months. I think it's been four months" he said eventually. "You know, I have that same conversation every time I see your mother" he commented suddenly, chuckling slightly. "We do that every time too" his daughter replied sadly. “Something to look forward to, then” Roger murmured, smiling wryly. "Yeah" Tallulah agreed. "So, Dad, is this the News of the World T-" She stopped abruptly at the unmistakable sound of Freddie Mercury's dulcet tones emanating from the other side of the door. Shit, he's gonna see me. Shit. Should I hide?

"Honestly, Roger, how long does it take to find a fucking…" Freddie called out as he swept into Roger's dressing room. His voice trailed off at the sight of two identical pairs of big blue eyes staring back at him. Oh shit. Freddie's seen me now. Shit. "Roger, who is this?" Freddie asked suspiciously. The drummer glanced at his daughter, who flashed him a quick, reassuring, smile. "Fred, this is my daughter, Tallulah" Roger explained calmly. His friend smiled. "I thought so.” “You what? How?” Roger spluttered. Freddie snorted. “Roger dear, if she looked any more like you she would be you.” Turning to Tallulah, he smiled kindly. “How old are you, dear?" he asked gently. "Twelve" she replied unthinkingly. Oh shit. Freddie's eyes widened. "You've been hiding this delightful child from me for the entire time we've known each other?" he accused Roger, looking scandalised. "No, Fred, it's not like that…" Roger attempted to soothe his friend. "Well then what is it like?" Freddie asked, unconvinced. The drummer glanced at Tallulah. "Just tell him the truth, Dad, he won't remember anything tomorrow" she assured him. Roger looked surprised. "He won't?" "Well you never did" she explained. "Oh. Right" He mused. "Roger, what on earth is going on?" Freddie cried, thoroughly confused. "It's… complicated" Roger explained.

Roger took a moment to collect his thoughts while he locked the dressing room door to prevent further unwelcome interruptions. “Look Fred, no-one else knows about Tallulah here. No-one knows what I’m about to tell you either, and I’d like to keep it that way, alright?” Freddie nodded. He understood the need for secrecy in one’s personal life, possibly more than Roger knew. “Alright then. Now what I’m about to say is going to sound completely bonkers, but it really is the truth, I swear” Roger went on. “The fact is, Tallulah’s a time traveller. Like her mother. She’s actually visiting from-” “Her mother?” Freddie questioned, cutting off his friend. “Actually, who is her mother? Do I know her?” “As a matter of fact you do” Roger replied calmly. “Do you remember Y/N?” “Y/N…” Freddie mused. “Oh, the one who visited the studio when we were doing the third album? Seemed like she dropped off the face of the earth after that, what happened to her?” he asked pleasantly. “She went back to the future and had Tallulah” Roger deadpanned. Freddie’s eyes went wide. “She had- But Roger, that was only four years ago” he pointed out, shocked. “This darling child is much older than that.” Roger smiled calmly. “I know Fred, that’s what I’m telling you. Y/N was only visiting from the future back then, like Tallulah is now” he explained matter-of-factly. “But surely time travel isn’t real?” Freddie protested, though Roger could tell he was wavering on the brink of believing everything. “It’s real Fred” Roger said quietly. “I know it’s real because I’ve done it.” Freddie's eyes widened, but he seemed shocked beyond words. "You do believe me, don't you?" Roger asked, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. Suddenly Freddie smiled. "You know I always believe you, dear" he reassured Roger, much to the latter's relief.

Freddie turned to Tallulah with a kind smile. "Are you staying for the show tonight?" he asked. "I'll try," she replied casually. "Good. You must come and watch from the wings, you'll get the best view" he told her. "Fred, no, someone could see her" Roger protested frantically. "No-one will notice her while we're on stage, darling" Freddie quipped, totally unconcerned. "What about the roadies though?" Roger countered. "They'll be busy" Freddie replied airily. "And if they're not?" Roger remained unconvinced. "Oh, just say she's your cousin or something, they won't care, dear" Freddie assured him. "My cousin?" Roger questioned. "Any idiot could see she's related to you, darling. The resemblance is frankly staggering." Roger sighed, defeated. "Fine. But if anything happens to her it's on your head." Freddie just smiled happily. "Alright then. I'd better get back, they'll be wondering what I'm up to. You'd better hurry back too, we've got a show in half an hour." Freddie bustled to the door. "Don't tell them about her. Please" Roger begged him as he reached it. Freddie turned back for a moment, smiling kindly. "It'll be our secret, dear" he assured his friend, sweeping out of the room.

"Wait, you met Freddie? Why don't I remember that?" Roger questioned, somewhat shocked at the lost memory. "I don't know, Dad" Tallulah sighed. "Maybe because you were still travelling yourself back then? Maybe whatever you remembered got wiped the next time you travelled or something…" she suggested, not really sure herself. "Yeah maybe. 'S weird though. Well, weirder than usual" Roger chuckled. “So anyway, did you stay for the concert?” “I did” Tallulah confirmed. “You weren’t that happy about it though…”

Roger stared grumpily at the door his friend had just passed through. “I can’t believe he’s talked me into this. Does he not care what could happen to you in the wings…” he trailed off, muttering darkly. “Dad, relax. I’ve been hanging out backstage at your concerts since I was little, I’ll be fine” Tallulah reassured him. Roger was shocked. “Really? Have people seen you before?” Tallulah thought for a moment. “A couple of the roadies have, but they think I’m your cousin.” For some reason this revelation seemed to calm Roger. “Well I suppose you’ll be ok then.” “Should be” Tallulah grinned. “I’ll try and stay out of sight though, then I won’t have explain anything.” This possibility pleased Roger. “Good. As soon as the show’s over I’ll take you back to the hotel. We can hang out there without anyone seeing us. Until then, stay out of trouble. Please.” Tallulah smiled reassuringly. “Of course.” Roger turned to leave. “One other thing” he added suddenly. “Make sure no-one sees you leave here. There’s a few reporters about and I don’t want to know what they might say if they spotted you coming out of my dressing room.” Tallulah barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Yes Dad” she sighed. Roger was incensed. “Don’t get smart with m-” Tallulah cut him off with a smile. “I’m not Dad, I just think it’s funny that you think this is my first time sneaking around your dressing rooms.” “It’s not?” Roger wasn’t sure if he was actually surprised or not at this point. “I told you, I’ve been running around at your concerts forever” Tallulah explained. “I know what I’m doing, don’t worry.” Roger grinned cheekily. “Alright then. I’ve got to go back in there now, but I’ll see you after the show.”

It was a good show that night. Freddie was in excellent form, and the crowd lapped it up. Fortunately Freddie was so transfixing on stage that no one noticed Roger looking a lot less worked up than usual. Roger himself was simply amazed his own child was watching him play. Tallulah enjoyed herself immensely, but then Queen concerts were always enjoyable. Watching from side of stage was a bit special though. As she’d expected, there was so much going on backstage that no one payed her much attention. Besides, special guests in the wings weren’t anything unusual at Queen concerts.

Freddie caught Tallulah's eye as the band came off stage, and she took that as her cue to scurry out of sight until they were safely in their shared cool down area. The stream of roadies, assistants and assorted visitors that followed the band took an almost unbearably long time to pass, but finally the coast was clear for Tallulah to dash into Roger's currently empty dressing room. As she shut the door she silently gave thanks for whatever force of the universe had sent the inevitable queue of pretty ladies to the band's shared space tonight instead of individual dressing room doors. Tallulah settled in to wait for her dad, assuming it would be a while before he could make his escape. She could hear snatches of conversation from the next room, and it sounded like they were getting ready for a party. Freddie declared the band "simply must celebrate tonight, dears" to general approval, though there were a few dissenters. Tallulah thought she recognised Brian's voice among those who were less than enthused. Good old Uncle Bri. He was never a party animal, even though he was a rock star. She didn't know many of the voices babbling away on the other side of the wall, but amongst the throng she could hear her dad grumbling about something she couldn't quite make out. She expected the conversation to continue for a long time, but within minutes there was a lull, quickly followed by the sound of footsteps at the dressing room door. Tallulah was attempting to press herself into a corner when the door opened to reveal Roger, back in street clothes and probably in need of a shower, but nonetheless glad to see his daughter. "Good, you're still here" he observed, smiling. "Did you like the show?" Tallulah beamed. "It was great, Dad! Freddie's amazing, and you sang so well, and…" Roger's face lit up at her praise, and he was so pleased he lost track of what she was saying as she babbled on enthusiastically. She was still smiling when she finally quieted. "Glad you enjoyed it" Roger commented, grinning. "Freddie's distracting everyone for a few minutes so we can get out of here" he explained. "I thought we could go back to the hotel, get room service, just hang out together." Tallulah smiled gently. "Whatever you want, Dad."

Half an hour later found Roger and Tallulah sprawled on the enormous bed in his hotel room, Roger now ensconced in a fluffy white bathrobe. "I have… really quite a lot of questions about this whole… situation" Roger mused. Tallulah smiled. “Ask me then.” “You said there were rules though” Roger pointed out. “There’s some things I’m not allowed to tell you” Tallulah explained. “Such as…?” “The future” Tallulah said simply. “I can’t tell you anything about your future.” “Why not?” At this point Roger was curious rather than annoyed. “Because you might try to change it, and accidentally change history and that could, like, destroy the world, or something” Tallulah explained. According to Mum, anyway.

Roger looked baffled until he remembered something and suddenly grinned. Tallulah was very confused. “What?” “I just remembered having almost this exact conversation with your mother once” Roger explained. “God this situation is weird.” “What’s weird?” Tallulah asked. Probably the time travel. I’m so used to it I always forget how weird it is to everyone else. “Well, the time travel’s quite odd, but I’m nearly used to that” Roger clarified. “But the last time I saw you, you were only three years old, and now it’s only been a few months but you’re nearly a teenager.” Tallulah nodded. “Yeah, I guess that’s not really normal, is it?”

“Not even a little bit” Roger quipped. “But I s’pose it’s basically your normal these days.” “Well I don’t do it every day” Tallulah explained. “But I’ve been doing it for so long it’s just… another part of my life now.” Roger looked thoughtfully at his daughter. “It’s going to be my life, too, isn’t it?” he mused. “What is?” Tallulah asked, not quite following his thoughts. “You turning up randomly like this” he clarified. She smiled. “I guess it is” she agreed.

Roger welcomed this information with a smile. “So, when will I see you again?” he asked casually. Tallulah shrugged. “I don’t know.” Roger was baffled. “But it's all in the past. How can you not know?” "It's not the past for me" she explained. "And the next time I see you probably won't be the next time you see me." Roger was quiet as he pondered the implications of her statement. "So does that mean... you're not visiting me in order?" "Pretty much" Tallulah agreed. "I mean, I did when I was little, but I don't any more." "When you were little?" Roger echoed. Tallulah nodded. "At first you were older every time I saw you. But then one day I ended up at a time way before the last time I'd been to." "We fell out of sync" Roger murmured wonderingly. Suddenly his jaw dropped. "Wait, if you're... And that's all in my future, then..." His rambling was cut off when he broke into a huge grin. Tallulah was confused. "What?" "I'm actually going to get to see you grow up!" Roger cried joyfully.

"Well, I wasn’t wrong" Roger quipped, chuckling. Tallulah murmured her agreement, contemplating the meaning of young Roger’s comment. “You were… why were you so happy about seeing me grow up?” She finally asked. Roger sighed. “Well, sweetheart, back then I was still visiting you. Of course I never knew when I might go, and as you got bigger I started to wonder when it might stop.” “When what might stop?” “The visits” Roger explained. “They were getting shorter, with more time in between. It didn’t feel like a good sign.” “Mum said she felt the same” Tallulah commented. Roger wasn’t surprised. “She’s a clever woman, your mum.” He paused. “Anyway,” he went on, “I thought, back then, that when the visits eventually stopped I’d never see you again.” Finally Tallulah was starting to understand. “And that made you sad.” “Exactly” Roger agreed. “But then you told me I was wrong.”

"You know," Tallulah mused, "I always thought you'd just accepted the weirdness of me travelling, I didn't think you were all that happy about it." Roger sighed. "I wasn't, actually, but if the alternative was never seeing you or being in your life, I was quite happy to deal with the occasional weirdness." "But you are in my life" Tallulah commented, confused. "I am now" Roger pointed out. "But back then I didn't know that would happen." "Oh yeah" Tallulah agreed.

Tallulah was quiet for a moment, considering the other implications of yesterday's adventure. "So I guess we know something now" she commented. "I'm not going to end any earlier than 1978." "Not necessarily" Roger replied. Tallulah was confused. "But you'd never seen me before?" "I know" Roger responded. "But just because I didn't see you it doesn't mean you weren't there." "So you mean… I might go back to the 70s again but not end up near you?" Tallulah said slowly, trying to understand what this revelation might mean. "But what will I do?" she fretted. "You'll be ok" Roger soothed. "I'll teach you a few useful things, just in case."

Suddenly he sighed. "You'll have to be careful though. Especially if you end up in ’74." "What happened in 1974?" Tallulah asked, confused. Roger smiled. "You did." Tallulah did know that, she thought, but she also knew she was born in 2014, and honestly it was hard enough keeping track of which years she’d visited, let alone other vaguely important years in her personal history. And besides, who bothered to take note of when they’d been conceived? Although, for most people it wasn’t four decades before their birth. Then again, Tallulah was definitely not most people. And she wouldn't want to change that for the world.

*******************************************************************************************

A/N 2: A couple of quick explanations: Tallulah’s being deliberately vague so Roger doesn’t find out when she’s likely to visit him again, but until this point she’d only seen him at various points in the early eighties (up to 1985). She’s definitely going to visit him in the 70s again though. And she’s going to keep travelling at least into her early 20s (she has the ability to stop herself going if she really needs to, but it’s quite tiring so she doesn’t like doing it much when she’s young.) Also, something I always envisioned but never quite managed to show anywhere is that Tallulah is quite close to present Brian, who is of course absolutely fascinated by her abilities and has been sort of studying her experiences since she was a child. And present Roger likes to talk through Tallulah’s visits to the past with her after the fact, though Tallulah isn’t always in the mood.

Universal Taglist: @wandering-at-midnight @fruityfreddie @trumanjo @ohmygoditsanthonyedwardstark @itsametaphorbriansblog @theedwardscollection @simplyvictoria-93 @kotoamor @j1224 @florenceivy @jennyggggrrr @mercurycrowley @xstrawverrymilktaex

#roger taylor x reader #reader x roger taylor #roger taylor x oc #freddie mercury imagine #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor fic #queen fic #queen imagines #bohemian rhapsody imagine #bohemian rhapsody imagines #roger taylor #freddie mercury #brian may

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coffeestainsandcashmere · 4 years ago

Text

‘All that’s best of dark and bright’ - a Draco x Hermione x Theo story - Chapter Six

Summary:

Hermione's birthday starts inauspiciously and ends... well. You'll see for yourself how it ends.

Notes:

Warnings for some PTSD and nightmares right off the bat. And finally here’s that ‘Mature’ tag too, right at the end of the chapter :)

Note: does the Wizarding world have birthday cards??? They do in this story, and like wizardy photographs, they move. If I goofed up and this isn’t a thing, please just accept it as another AU element :). There’s also a reference to an old British store chain in there, so kudos to you if you spot it.

I hope this chapter is ok - I’ve actually got a retinal migraine at the moment and have lost the sight in most of my central field of vision, so editing it one last time was a bit… hit and miss, let’s say. Anyway, thank you for your feedback on previous chapters too! Looking forward to your reactions to this one for sure…

Chapter One here: Tumblr | Ao3

Chapter Two here: Tumblr | Ao3

Chapter Three here: Tumblr | Ao3

Chapter Four here: Tumblr | Ao3

Chapter Five here: Tumblr | Ao3

Hermione woke in the early hours of her birthday with a scream.

The snatchers had her. Hands all over her, couldn’t break free, thrashing, struggling, writhing.

Sweating, she twisted and sheared their grasp away from her arm for a second and ran, lungs burning, legs trembling. One fall over an unseen root and that would be it. The war could be lost if they got caught now.

He would win.

And Harry would die. Oh God, they couldn’t lose. Not now. Not after everything.

The forest was closing in.

She had only seconds to think, to disguise Harry, to keep them from snatching him and knowing who he was. “I’m sorry,” she hissed as the stinging jinx took hold of his face and it began to swell.

More hands on her. Unrelenting this time. There was no escape.

Darkness.

Rushing darkness of forced apparition.

Yew hedges and an iron gate that thrummed with wards and enchantments.

Bellatrix’s awful, gleeful face.

Then pain.

Fear and pain unending.

Silver eyes staring, wide and horrified.

Screaming.

Screaming, screaming, screaming…

Jerking awake violently, with sweat running down between her breasts and tracking down her torso, hair a damp, tangled nest, and throat raw, she thanked all her magical forebears, starting with Merlin and Morgana, that she’d had the sense the previous night to cast a silencing enchantment again between the four posts of her bed. The rest of the dorm slept on. Ginny was even snoring.

Her heart was still pounding and she looked over at the window, the dawn still a good hour away at least.

The faint grey light filtering through the leaded window beside her bed reminded her of Draco’s eyes from her dream.

He’d been there that night and had been forced to watch his own aunt carve that word into her forearm after god-knows-how-long of cruciatus torture. Had he always looked as revolted by it all as he had just then in her dream? She’d had it so many times now that she could no longer distinguish memory from nightmare. Her skin itched and burned but she refused to look down and stare at the word ‘mudblood’ engraved into her skin.

“Happy birthday,” she muttered under her breath before getting out of bed and inhaling deeply. The air in the room was cold, and goosebumps prickled along her skin as she reached for her Gryffindor red dressing-gown that had been a present from her parents on a birthday a few years ago.

She stood and went to the window, opening the casement which squeaked like an affronted gnome, but still no one stirred or complained. Damp, autumn air flooded in, sweeping around her and cooling the sweat on the exposed skin of her collarbones til she shivered, but it slowly helped to calm her heartbeat. Her eyes roved along the lines of the mountains that surrounded the school. “Nineteen,” she mused with a sigh. “Nineteen years old, and my parents no longer have any idea that I’ve ever existed.”

Kingsley had said there was still a chance that the memory-altering spell could be reversed, but it had been so powerful that it risked destroying their minds altogether, and she hadn’t had the courage to give him the okay to try. They were happy and safe as Wendell and Monica Wilkins, and would probably stay that way forever thanks to the strength of the charm she’d used. She couldn’t regret protecting her parents, but the necessity of it brought tears to her eyes every time.

She didn’t feel nineteen. What was it supposed to feel like anyway? Besides, what normal nineteen year old was still at Hogwarts? Most of the rest of her year was out there, beyond those mountains. Seamus was in Auror training with Harry, and Dean was apparently working in the Goblin Liaison Office after his surprising and enduring friendship with Griphook, while a number of others were in a similar line of work, patching up holes where Death Eaters had exposed their world to the muggles, or training with magical creatures, or working in bars, or travelling the world — Blaise Zabini was rumoured to be in Portugal working with the authorities there, and she’d even heard a rumour that he was engaged to Pansy Parkinson, though she found it hard to believe. Blaise had always seemed the type not to be interested in romantic attachments. Perhaps it was a pureblood thing?

With an enormous sigh, she abandoned thoughts of purebloods, and turned away from the window to find a small parcel sitting by the little fireplace in their dorm, with two envelopes beside it. She frowned and stepped closer, her heart leaping for joy when she recognised both Harry’s minuscule writing and Ron’s untidy scribble.

Sitting cross legged by the empty hearth, she ripped Harry’s envelope open first and discovered, to her delight, a muggle birthday card with a hideously gaudy badge on it, sporting a cartoon birthday cake. She carefully unpinned it from the front and set it to one side to attach to the drapes of her four-poster. Inside it read:

‘Dear Hermione,

I’m sorry I haven’t written to you! I’ve been so busy and I can’t really tell you about any of it yet. I loved your letters though, and I’m not surprised you’re so busy. Please remember to stop every now and again, won’t you? Hope you have a great day full of surprises!

Love,

Harry x’

She narrowed her eyes at the ‘full of surprises’ bit, hoping that he hadn’t told Ginny to do something very Weasley-esque and embarrassing, and then opened Ron’s card. Their friendship had been somewhat strained since they broke up, and Fred’s death had understandably brought out his more morose side in the last few months, but she was pleased that he’d remembered. His had a silly cartoon of a dragon lighting a birthday cupcake with a gout of flame that incinerated the whole thing before the dragon looked out at the viewer and shrugged before the image looped around again. She was honestly just relieved that it wasn’t some kind of new exploding card from the joke shop.

‘Dear Mione’ it began. She squinted and peered at the next lines. Gods, he could have worked for the Ministry in their Department of Mysteries, encrypting messages for them.

‘Dear Mione,

Happy Birthday! Sorry I haven’t come to see you yet but hopefully it won’t be too long. Promise not to bring any skiving snack-boxes for you…

Love,

Ron’

In the quiet of the four-person dorm, with only the soft whisper of three sleepers and the whisper of the wind outside, Hermione smiled. They might have been terrible at keeping in touch, but her friends did still care after all. It wasn’t that she’d doubted them necessarily, but the silence had still stung.

She picked up the parcel next and unwrapped a small box of sherbet lemons from Harry with a label bearing his tiny handwriting that said: ‘Got these for you from Woolworths pick ‘n’ mix. Thought you’d like them. H x’.

Tears filled her eyes and the bright yellow sweets swam before her. She thought back to her very muggle childhood - a fact she shared with Harry, though hers had been a little happier on the domestic front - and also thought of Dumbledore, who had famously had a great penchant for the sour boiled sweets. Despite having dentists for parents, she had always loved these, but even now as she guiltily unwrapped one, she felt like a child sneakily opening a present on Christmas Eve instead of Christmas Day. It tasted amazing, and it brought back so many memories.

Hours later, turning another sweet over between her tongue and teeth, she dressed and headed down to breakfast without waking Ginny or the other two seventh years and breakfasted alone at the Gryffindor table well before the post owls arrived. She didn’t fancy advertising that it was her birthday, drawing attention to the fact that she was older than almost any other student ever had been in the entire history of Hogwarts. Probably. That was one she’d have to look up in Hogwarts: A History when she got back upstairs.

Thoughts of the book, and whereabouts she could look in the various chapters for such a reference, evaporated as she left the hall after breakfast, and spotted Theo and Draco eating together at one end of the table. Ahead of the Slytherin tryouts that morning, Draco was dressed in his quidditch gear, and - damn him - and he looked… he looked regal. His white hair gleamed, the soft wave to it making him look much less harsh now, and as he and Theo shared a conversation, he even managed a brief laugh that lit up his silver eyes and lifted the tiredness from his sharp features. He’d grown into that pinched, pointy face, she realised, and he now looked strikingly handsome when he smiled.

While she continued to stare at them, Theo held up a grape and Draco rolled his eyes but let Theo pop it into his mouth.

Hermione walked right into the stone doorway of the entrance arch and rebounded with a soft grunt, face burning and mind reeling. Burning with shame, she scuttled across the entrance hall and had just set foot to the first tread of the Great Staircase when a familiar voice echoed off the stonework.

“Granger!”

She froze and then turned around. Malfoy was standing in the archway to the Great Hall, and the full sight of him in his quidditch kit nearly knocked her breathless. How had she not appreciated just how tall he’d grown or how good he looked in that rich, dark Slytherin green before? It complemented the silver of his hair and the paleness of his skin so perfectly that she almost forgot that he’d spoken and called her name.

“Yes?” she croaked.

He swallowed and crossed towards her, holding two small envelopes in his left hand. He proffered them to her between index and middle fingers, and swallowed again. “Happy Birthday, Granger,” he said in a soft, slightly husky voice.

She stared at them envelopes stupidly for a second and then gingerly took them from him. “They’re not howlers, are they?” she asked, aiming for a light tone.

He shook his head and a section of his silver hair fell into his eyes before he brushed it back. “No, Granger. No tricks. Just two birthday cards.”

“Thank you, Malfoy,” she said, oddly choked. She saw Theo’s writing on the front of the top one, and assumed the other was from Malfoy. “That’s… That’s really sweet of you.”

He rolled his eyes and turned away, shaking his head. “I’ll pass on your thanks to Theo,” was all he said as he retreated. She watched him go, eyeing his narrow hips and long legs, and she gulped. That was the closest she’d come to getting an apology from him, and she could recognise it for the white flag it was. He was clearly trying.

She smiled and turned them over in her hand. ��

Her fingers trembled as she broke the green wax seal, blank and un-stamped, she noted, and opened the first one then and there in the liminal entrance hall. It might have felt somehow symbolic if she’d paused to give it any thought.

Draco’s card bore a moving image of a set of floor-to-ceiling library shelves, a few of the books sliding in and out at irregular intervals, as if drawn out for examination by invisible fingers, and a ginger kneazel’s tail flickered into view in the bottom corner every so often. He’d noticed Crookshanks then? Not only that, but he’d noticed Crookshanks from years ago and had remembered him? Surely it wasn’t a coincidence. Malfoy never did anything without a purpose. His message inside was simple, but it was his handwriting that made her eyebrows rise.

It was terrible; almost illegible. Even worse than Ron’s.

For some reason she’d always expected that he would have the curling, looping handwriting of a prince or something, but this was a barely-discernible chicken scratch, and was even a little smudged over his signature.

‘Hermione,

I hope today brings you every joy you deserve.

Yours,

Draco Malfoy’

She re-read it three times before she really saw it though, still shocked at receiving a birthday card from Draco Malfoy of all people. Another white flag.

Taking a deep breath and deciding not to ponder it too long, lest she run into the danger of over thinking again, she moved to Theo’s which was written in a tidier and much more ornate hand. The script on this envelope was a perfect, fluid, graceful, English roundhand, like the kind she’d only seen on old parchment documents, and the ink was, surprisingly, purple. She recalled the smudges on his fingers from the other day and wondered if that was the Slytherin’s favourite colour.

Theo’s card was also book-themed, but it bore an image of a battered old copy of ‘Advanced Potion Making’ beside a softly-steaming pewter cauldron. She smiled, reminded instantly of their last potions session and all the revelations it had carried with it, but she set that aside for the time being and read his message. She could almost hear him saying it, and she laughed aloud as she read it.

‘To the most perfect of prefectorial and potions partners,

I hope you have a wonderful day and that, should you wish it, your friends get you very, very drunk up in Gryffindor tower. Whatever you do, you deserve to have fun, Hermione, and I hope today of all days is full of it.

Love,

Theo.’

The difference between the two was striking. Malfoy’s was reserved and his writing seemed almost shy and awkward, whereas Theo’s reflected his usual, outgoing, charming self. Plus, he’d signed it ‘love’, though again, she tried not to read too much into it.

She glanced up to find that both of them were looking at her from their distant seats at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. Theo grinned and waved, but Malfoy just continued to stare at her with his expression carefully veiled.

“Thank you,” she mouthed at them and Theo bowed his head rather theatrically.

Before she could decide to go over them at strike up a conversation, Ginny bounded down the grand staircase behind her and barrelled into her, along with half the Gryffindor team at her heels, all buoyed up with excitement about tryouts, and the head girl tackle-hugged her almost into a headlock. “Happy birthday!” she screeched, setting Hermione’s ears ringing and the few students in the hall staring. “Did the owls come already then?” she asked when she saw the cards in her hand.

She shook her head but didn’t elaborate. Ginny was too excited about the tryouts anyway. “Please come and watch us later,” she said. “Just for a bit? Oh, and I’ve got Harry’s and Ron’s cards for you! I put them out by the fireplace in our dorm…”

“I found them already,” she smiled. “Thank you. But why didn’t they just owl them straight to me?”

“They wanted to make sure they got here on time so they sent them together a few days ago with Harry’s new eagle owl. She’s huge! Anyway, please come?” she wheedled. “Pleasepleaseplease?”

Taking a deep breath, she glanced over at Theo and Malfoy, who were apparently just finishing up with their breakfast. Gone was the tender grape-sharing, to be replaced by a muttered conversation. Her brain rather unhelpfully supplied that she might get to see Malfoy in his uniform again if she showed up.

“Fine,” she grunted through gritted teeth. “I’ll come for a bit. But literally just twenty minutes or so, ok?”

“Yes!” Ginny yelled, fist pumping and then hugging her again. “Thank you! I’ll have to tell Ron.”

“Why?”

“He nearly bet me five galleons that you wouldn’t go to a quidditch practice on your birthday.”

“Nearly?” she asked archly. “Well, I’d hate to be predictable…”

“I wouldn’t let him lay a bet on what you did on your birthday,” she said and Hermione blessed her silently with her eyes. Someone yelled Ginny’s name from the Gryffindor table and she nodded. “I’m gonna go grab something to eat. We’re heading out early to watch the Slytherins first and see what the competition is, but we start at one thirty, ok?”

Hermione showed up at the quidditch pitch at quarter past one and found that a few Slytherins were still there, though clearly most of their tryouts had finished. Those who remained were flying for fun now. A few of them were still running drills under the watchful eye of the Slytherin captain, and somewhere on the absolute opposite side of the stands she could see a few Slytherin supporters, but mostly, the place was oddly deserted and quiet.

The weather had also turned absolutely bloody miserable, with a fine sheet of mizzle wafting down around them, drenching everything and reducing visibility to almost nothing. She huddled deeper into her cloak and cursed, hair expanding steadily with the damp conditions. She really, really hated quidditch.

“How in Godric’s name did I let myself get talked into this?” she growled to herself after just ten minutes of sitting in the freezing stands, wishing she at least had a book to distract her from her chattering teeth. “Ginny, I’m sorry. I can’t. I’m freezing my arse off. I’m going back.”

“What? You haven’t even seen us fly!” Ginny laughed, though clearly not upset in the slightest. “I’m surprised you even showed up without Ron and Harry to cheer at. Have fun in the library. Until your party that is…” Ginny added ominously. “Don’t forget. I’ve got a surprise for you. Don’t worry; you’ll love it,” she added when Hermione balked visibly. “Fucking shit,” Ginny hissed, her gaze sliding past Hermione to the pitch behind. “Malfoy is really bloody good. I hate him, but look at that… It’s… It’s poetry, Hermione. Bloody poetry.”

She turned and watched as a blur that was presumably Malfoy did an eye-wateringly fast swan-dive, rocketing straight out of the clouds right down to barely half an inch from the turf below, before barrel rolling upwards with the grace of a swallow to avoid a bludger. He pulled out of the roll and peeled right, drifting in a lazy arc and coming to a halt in front of the stands on the far side. He seemed to be holding a conversation with someone for a moment or two before he peeled away into a lazy backwards dive and then looped up into the air to begin soaring around the far end. The fluidity of his movements was mesmeric, and even Hermione had to admit that he was an absolute pleasure to watch.

And then the wind blew raindrops down her neck and she shivered.

“Nope,” she said. “I don’t care how beautiful he looks on a broomstick, I’m going in. See you later, Ginny. Good luck getting a better team than Slytherin!” and she disappeared before she lost her fingers and toes to frostbite on her nineteenth birthday.

It took her well over an hour to warm up by the fire in the Gryffindor common room, but just when she’d contemplated going to the prefects’ bathroom to take a long soak to drive the residual chill from her bones, she found that she was actually nearly thawed out. It was only the lingering stiffness in her muscles after being locked in a tight ball in the armchair that remained. Deciding that a spot of exercise would probably finish the job, she grabbed her notebook and quill, and made her way towards the library.

Predictably, it was almost completely deserted at nearly three in the afternoon on a Saturday, and she wove her way through to her favourite corner in the Charms section, settling her books down and thinking about what to start first. She had one Transfiguration essay that was admittedly optional, and one Ancient Studies translation to crack on with for Monday. Deciding to tackle that first, given that it would probably take her half an hour at most, she moved with familiar ease through the shelves until she drew closer to the restricted section. The book of runic verb tables was not held there, but the Ancient Studies section was visited so infrequently that it was tucked away near the restricted section all the same.

As she approached, on the point of rounding the final corner of a bookshelf and entering the small, square alcove created by two bookshelves set perpendicular to the stone wall, she heard a gasp and a deep, guttural grunt, and froze.

It wouldn’t be the first time she’d stumbled on someone doing something illicit in the library, but there was something about the timbre of that voice that made her pause and her heart race. Usually, people had the grace to conceal themselves or put up a befuddlement charm to distract other library users until they were done, but she was not so lucky this time.

“Oh fuck,” she heard a breathy, male voice snarl and her eyes widened.

It was Theodore Nott. She was sure of it.

As she slid behind the bookcase that separated her from that small, secluded alcove, she peered through the books on the shelf and inhaled sharply in surprise, immediately holding her breath in case she’d given herself away. She needn’t have worried - the two engaged in something a tad racier than a quickly-stolen kiss or two were in no danger of hearing her one tiny gasp of surprise.

Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott were pressed up against the far side of the bookshelves, mercifully on the other side of the square alcove from her hiding spot, and Theo had his jeans round his ankles, black boxer-briefs yanked down as well, while Draco had his own dark trousers undone and merely hanging around his narrow hips. Malfoy was wearing a long-sleeved, smart-looking white shirt which was now rumpled and untucked, and he had his left hand between the two of them, hidden from sight for the moment by his own body.

She might have though it jarring to see them in more casual clothes, were it not for the incredibly distracting activity in which they were currently and rather shockingly engaged.

Theo looked… debauched.

His curly hair was mussed up and thoroughly ruffled, his cheeks were flushed to the point that his freckles had vanished completely, and his wine-dark Henley had a distinctly fist-shaped crumple at the shoulder. His thin lips were also puffy and red, kiss-swollen and still wet. Meanwhile, he barely seemed to be keeping himself upright, with one hand gripping the stone wall nearby, his other clutched on the bookshelf behind him, and his dark blue eyes kept fluttering closed.

Hermione stared, utterly transfixed.

Draco had an enormous hickey on the side of his neck, angrily standing out in stark relief against the white of his skin.

She couldn’t have looked away from them if a dragon had entered the library and begun to breathe fire amongst the books. They looked so beautiful together, chests heaving, muscles straining and clenching in their exposed biceps and necks, the tendons pulled taut and straining as they ground against each other, breathless and gasping.

“Fuck, Draco, fuck...” Theo snarled as Malfoy worked them closer and closer. The slick sounds of their efforts began to fill the small corner of the library and it was all she could focus on. They’d obviously been in such a rush that they’d neglected to throw up a concealment charm, or they thought that no one would be there on a weekend. Or… Or they liked the risk.

“Fuck!” Theo’s knees buckled as he yelped, and Draco’s right hand flew to cover Theo’s mouth.

As his long fingers wrapped around Theo’s face, little finger just below Theo’s nose, she caught the silver flash of his signet ring. The sight of it pressed against Theo’s skin, the bone-pale colour of Draco’s body contrasting with the warmer tones of the taller boy, made her suddenly wet and hot all over. They turned a little bit as Draco applied a little pressure to Theo’s jaw with that hand and tipped Theo’s head to one side so that he could mouth and kiss at his exposed neck for a moment, and she saw that he had both of their cocks in one hand. His pace was quick and brutal, perhaps trying to finish them both off as rapidly as possible and send them tumbling over the edge of orgasm before they were discovered.

The sight of Draco Malfoy’s hand around both his and Theo’s cocks together nearly undid her and she had to bite her lips together to keep from making a noise. Not once had she ever fantasised about anything like this. Even though she’d entertained the brief idea that the two boys could be together, it had never encompassed a sight like this, with Theo unravelling in a series of muffled groans and stifled gasps while Malfoy jerked him off with relentless focus.

She knew she shouldn’t be watching, but before she could turn away and flee, Theo’s muffled words dissolved into a long, deep, guttural groan, his blue eyes rolling shut, as Malfoy paused and swiped a thumb over the weeping tip of his cock and Theo’s knees caved again.

“Quiet,” Malfoy snarled, tightening his grip and causing Theo to throw his head back with another broken moan. He seemed incapable of keeping quiet, and he thunked the back of his head on the bookshelf but barely seemed to notice. Malfoy’s hand had been dislodged from his mouth by the movement, fingertips dragging obscenely at Theo’s lips for a second, and now his long fingers lay splayed and tense over his exposed throat, middle and ring fingers on either side of his sharp Adam’s apple. “This is a library, Theo,” he purred. “Quiet.”

“Fuck… No one… comes to this… to this section anyway,” he panted, thrusting his hips weakly into Malfoy’s hand. “Oh fuck, there, like that. I’m so close. I’m so fucking close, Draco. Well… no one except…” he paused before managing to open his eyes and grinning wickedly. “Granger…”

“Fuck! Don’t mention Granger now!” Malfoy practically yowled, fingers tightening in an involuntary spasm around Theo’s neck, and Hermione tried not to be hurt. Presumably though if they were there, doing this with each other, she wouldn’t have been of any interest to them anyway.

Or… not…?

Malfoy came almost immediately with a choked-off growl, as if the full force of his sudden orgasm took him by surprise, and he came hard. His head bowed forwards to rest against Theo’s collarbone as his back heaved and his hips jerked. He spilled into his hand and all over Theo’s hard, slick cock as well.

Theo crashed into his release only a second or two later, one hand clinging to Malfoy’s shoulder, the other on the wall beside him, and then they both slouched against the bookshelves looking dazed and weak for a moment or two before Malfoy straightened and scourgified them both clean with a wandless wave of his hand. Talented and beautiful. Not many people would have had the presence of mind to do that kind of magic in the aftershocks of an orgasm like that.

Hermione was breathless, still staring at them with eyes wide and heart pounding. She’d soaked through and ruined her underwear, she was sure of it.

“Fuck, Draco,” Theo hissed, tucking himself back into his trousers and leaning shakily against the bookshelf. “I know it’s my fault, but we’ve got to stop doing this… It’s… It’s not fair…”

Draco didn’t speak, and other than the vibrant, blotchy flush that crept up his white neck and onto his cheeks, there was no outward sign that he’d just come his brains out in the library, with Hermione Granger’s name fresh on his lips.

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To be continued.

If you enjoyed, please reblog and share! I’m new to the fandom on here and appreciate all the help I can get!

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writing masterlist | Ao3

#dramione #draco malfoy x hermione granger #draco x hermione #draco x theodore #draco x theo #draco malfoy x theodore nott x hermione granger #draco x theo x hermione #draco x hermione x theo #harry potter fanfic #hp fanfic

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