#I almost named the sunglasses then I remembered what this website used to do with that

[spockvarietyhour]

Every CGI Terminator Arnold - Ranked

Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines (2003)

Rating: Surprisingly Not Bad.

Oh the Body Horror for sure, and the upside down helps hide some of the uncanny valley. still weirdly plastic in a way, a bit gooey? Squishy. yeah that's the word, Squishy. I could squish that head like a stress ball.

Terminator Salvation

Rating: Not Great Bob

We stuck a CG mold of Arnold's head from OG Terminator (the original SFX team's muold for the full sized prosthetics was still available) onto some random bodybuilder's bod and its not quite right. And the mould face is immovable, unbreathing, might as well put a Jason Mask.

Terminator: Genisys

Rating: Itchy.

I get itchy looking at this one, I don't know why. They wrapped his face onto something that doesn't quite fit. I feel I could stretch out his facial features like Odo's face at the end of a hard day. The texture is wrong. I'd take the Salvation model out before this one.

Terminator: Dark Fate

Rating: Too Veiny

Points I guess for the fit but those arm veins are distracting. This is also the only time I recall the Arnold model ever having stubble. The closer you are to getting it right tho, the wider the uncanny valley chasm gets, but good choice on the sunglasses. I don't want to see those eyes.

[atlafan]

Open Door Policy - One Shot

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

Warnings: angst, fluff, and smut! 

Words: 21.5K 

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

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

“Dr. Styles.” Y/N groans.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

“Miss Y/L/N?”

“Yes.” She smiles back at him.

“Come on in, have a seat.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

“Looks at the exact same.”

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“And I was your professor?”

“Yes, Dr. Styles.”

He plucks his fingers over his lips.

“I feel bad for not remembering you.”

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

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

“Yeah.” She blushes.

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

“It’s alright, I recovered.”

“Clearly.” He smiles.

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

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

“That would be great, thank you.”

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

“You can take that off, you know?”

“What?”

“Your blazer.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

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

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

“It’s fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You work at Bento’s?”

“Yeah.”

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

“I work in the back as a baker.”

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

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

“I did?”

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

“Ah, well, glad I could help.”

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Did he remember you?” Nessa asks.

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

“Why is that embarrassing?” Charlotte asks.

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

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

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

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

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

“You two are the worst.” She groans.

//

“Hey, Y/N!”

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, uh, it was pretty easy.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, shit.”

“What?”

“He’s gonna fuck you.”

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

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

//

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

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

“Morning, Y/N, are you excited?”

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

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

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

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

“Alright.”

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

“Thanks, that’s a really good tip.”

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

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

“Brilliant.” He says to her.

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

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

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

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

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

“Communication.”

“Undecided.”

“IT.”

“Psychology.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When does your next class start?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mm?” She grunts.

“Gotta wake up, love.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you think I’m home more?”

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

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

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

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

“I’m so sorry you had to see that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m so sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not at all.”

“At least let me pay you.”

“No way.”

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

//

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

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

“Oh stop.” Y/N nudges her.

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

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

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

Y/N’s eyes grow wide.

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

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

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

Y/N: of course!

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it okay that I used your Netflix?”

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight, Harry.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Morning.” Harry says.

“Morning.” She pats Max’s head.

“Sleep alright?”

“Mhm, thank you.”

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

“Sure, I could eat.” She smiles.

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

“Eggs and toast alright?”

“Sounds great.”

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

“You working at Bento’s today?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sugar?”

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

“Mm, this is delicious, thank you.”

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

“Do you have to go to campus today?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You were?” He frowns.

“You’re a little intimidating.”

“I don’t mean to be.”

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

“Thanks again for watching him.”

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

“See you, have a good weekend, love.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You got it.”

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

“Opening a tab tonight?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They could be college students.” Louis says.

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s got a point, Har.” Louis says.

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

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

“It’s not happening.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Doing what?” Charlotte asks nervously.

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

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

“Oh, am I? Who is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

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

“Oh, you do?” Louis smirks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi.” He says.

“Hi.”

“Did my friend bother you?”

“Not at all…he was very nice.”

Harry nods and sips from his drink.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

“Really?!”

“Mhm.”

“Should I go talk to him?”

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

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

“Wing-man to the rescue, I’m on it.”

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

“What?”

“Did you do that on purpose?”

“Do what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And then you made me breakfast.”

“As an extra thank you.”

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

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

“Where is he anyways?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yup.” He takes a swig of his beer.

“Why?!”

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

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

“I didn’t say that.”

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

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

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

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

“What did you just say to me?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t talk to me like that, Y/N.”

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He…talks about me?”

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

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

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

“How long have you been waiting out here?”

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

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

“When then?”

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

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

“Depends, what’s on the menu?”

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

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

“Alright, thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did he give you his number?”

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

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

“What?”

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

//

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

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

“Hi.”

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

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

“Come, sit, the food’s ready.”

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

“This looks good, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

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

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

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

“You would have?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

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

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

“We are?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s alright.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Correct.”

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

“Yes.”

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

“What are you saying exactly?”

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

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

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

“Yeah, it was good. You?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, good!”

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

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

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

“Is it based off of Love, Simon?”

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

“Sure, we could watch that.”

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

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

“Mm, this is tasty, what is it?”

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

“It’s perfect, thank you.”

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

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

“S’alright, he keeps me pretty warm.”

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

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

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

“Now who’s being annoying?”

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

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

“Pizza would be perfect, thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mm?” He grunts, clearly out of it.

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

“Get in.” He mumbles.

“Really, are you sure? Because I-“

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I did, didn’t I…”

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

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

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

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

“But you will be again.”

“Because you wanted me to be.”

He looks at her and pouts.

“We’ll see each other more this way.”

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

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

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

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

“We could be discrete.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

“But I could-“

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

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

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

“It’s my house, you don’t need to help.” He throws on a long sleeve shirt and thick socks. He looks at her crossing her arms over her chest. “Here.” He tosses her one of his sweaters. “Come on, Max.”

They all head downstairs. His sweater smelled just like him. She hoped she could keep this too just like with the pj’s he had given her a couple of months ago. He takes Max out quick, and then sets him back inside so he can get to shoveling. Y/N decides she could make him breakfast since he wouldn’t let her help outside.

She goes through his fridge and cupboards to find some different things. She wanted to make something that would take some time so it would be warm for him when he got inside.

“Muffins!” She says to herself as she rifles through his baking supplies.

She whips up a mixture of blueberry muffins and get them popped in the oven. She has the glorious idea to slice them in half and butt them up on his griddle when they’re done, just to give it a little crunch. Next, she cracks some eggs into the pan, and makes them sunny side down because she remembers him making them that way. She even finds some bacon to throw on the griddle.

When he comes inside, his nostrils are hit with everything she’s made. Everything was on plates on the kitchen table, and she was washing everything in the sink. He strips down to his boxers, having been drenched with sweat after digging out their cars. The snow was still falling, but it was good to get ahead of things before it all froze.

“Harry, I made…” She freezes when she looks at him. Seeing his full body in the light was much different than in the hazy darkness of his bedroom.

“I didn’t know I had blueberry muffins.” He says as he looks down at the plates.

“You, um, you didn’t, I made them.”

“From scratch?”

“Well, yeah.”

He picks up the muffin bottom and takes a bite. His eyes close for a second as he gets a good taste. It was buttery and a bit crisp from being on the griddle. It was perfection. He turns to her after he swallows.

“You’re…a literal angel.” He steps closer to her, and he notices her eyes drift down and back up. “I’ll go put some clothes, and then-“

She puts a hand on his chest. Her eyes plead with his. Just kiss me, she silently says to him.  His hands fly up to her jaw, and he pulls her in, lips crashing together, finally. She melts into him immediately. His tongue slides along her bottom lip, and she opens up for him. She can taste the blueberry muffin on him, and it makes her suck on his tongue. He groans against her, and his hands slide down to her ass to get a good squeeze. She wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him even closer.

“Harry.” She breathes against his lips.

He gets a good grip on her and lifts her up to sit her on the counter. He quickly draws the shades for the window above the sink so anyone out shoveling wouldn’t be able to see anything. He tugs at the sweater of his he was wearing and lifts it off her. Her legs open wide for him to stand between. His lips attach to the crook of her neck, sucking, licking, biting. Her hips buck towards his as she tugs at his hair. One of his hands lifts her shirt slightly, and she thinks he’s going to feel her breasts up, but instead his fingers find the band of her pajama pants. He stops to look at her.

“Can I?”

“Yes.”

His hand dips below, and it’s almost like he’s searching for something else.

“Are you not wearing any knickers?”

“No.” She blinks at him. “I don’t usually wear underwear to bed.”

“Jesus Christ.”

She opens her legs a little wider for him, and he groans when his fingers touch around her folds, and he feels her wetness sticking to him already. His other arm wraps around behind her to hold her close to him. He plays around with her, fingers rubbing all around until his middle finger slides in. She gasps, not having expected so much so soon, but she wasn’t complaining. She clutches at his shoulders when she feels another finger slip inside. He twists them around, just getting a feel for things, and he curls them up, knowing this was what she really wanted.

“Oh! Oh my god.” Her head rolls back. He was make that come here motion right on that sweet spot of her front wall. His lips find her neck again as he continues. His thumb starting to rub on her clit. “Oh fuck, Harry, oh my god.” She didn’t realize how whiney she could sound, but he loved. She was a mess for him.

“Been thinking about this for so long.” He says into her ear.

“Me too.” She was panting now. “It feels so good.”

“Yeah? Like having my fingers buried inside you?”

Her mouth falls open. He was into dirty talk and it made her clench around him.

“Yes, oh my fucking god, yes.” She bites down on his collar bone to try to muffle any louder noises, but he was knuckle deep, fucking her with his fingers, it was no use. “Harry, I’m so close, oh fuck!”

His hand around her waist reaches up to tug at the back of her head. He wanted to watch her go through the motions. He wanted to see just how good he was making her feel. Her eyes rolls into the back of her head as she continues to beck forward. Her release was long, and so very good. She cried out, maybe a little louder than she should have, but he wasn’t telling her to keep it down. Did he want his neighbors to hear? Did he want them to know how good he could fuck someone?

He slows down his motions inside of her, helping her through the aftershocks, and then he slowly retracts his fingers. He sucks them into his mouth and then steps away from her. She was breathless. He kisses her cheeks and then helps her hop down from the counter.

“You made such a nice breakfast, let’s not let it go to waste.”

“Harry…” She watches him sit down.

“What?”

“Don’t you want to-“

“I’m all sweaty, I’d like to take a shower before going further if that’s alright with you.”

“Okay.”

She sits down with him and eats her food that she was now ravenous for.

“You really made this from scratch?”

“Yeah, I’m glad you like it.”

“It’s delicious.”

They finish eating and decide to clean up later. She follows him upstairs to his shower. He helps her out of her clothes and lets her get in first. She throws her hair up into a bun so it doesn’t get soaked. He rids himself of his boxers and gets in behind her. She moves aside so he can wash up. She presses her front to his back, and her hands roam along his long torso.

“You made me feel so good, I think it’s your turn.”

She kisses on his back while she starts to stroke his hardening length. It felt so big in her hand. Harry’s head falls to his chest, and he presses a palm to the tile wall to keep himself grounded. She runs her thumb over his tip and he groans. He grabs her hand and turns around. He backs her up to the opposite wall, cradling the back of her head as he basically slams her against it. His lips are on hers in seconds. Everything felt hot and wet, and just otherworldly. Y/N couldn’t enough. In the back of her head she kept thinking that she couldn’t believe this was happening. It wasn’t often that she got what she wanted.

“Please, fuck me.” She says against his lips.

“I don’t have any condoms.” He kisses down her neck and kneads her breasts.

“I’m on the pill.”

“S’not what I’m worried about.” He pulls his head back to look at her. “Are you clean?”

“I am, actually. I was tested last time I went to the doctor. Are you?”

“I am.” He smiles. “So…you really wanna feel all of me? Just like that?”

“Yes.” She whines. “Please.”

He kisses her and bites on her bottom lip, sucking on it as he pleases. He lifts one of legs up over his hip, and uses his other hand to line himself up. She was still plenty wet, so he’s able to push inside.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He grunts, trying to push further inside her. “So tight.”

“I…Christ, I think you’re just really big.” She gasps once he’s all the way inside.

His head drops to watch himself slowly thrust in and out of her. He bites his bottom lip at the sight. He looks back up at her, watching her features.

“Are you comfortable?”

“Could you maybe just hold my leg up?”

Harry nods and hooks his arm under leg, driving in deeper. Her head rolls back against the tile. Once he knew she was okay, he didn’t let up. He was fucking her hard and fast, only slowing up so he could hear her whimper and beg for more. Her nails were clawing at his back, and it was just egging him on. He uses his other hand to rub at her clit. She was starting to breathe heavier, moan after moan leaving her lips. He could tell she was close.

“Gonna come again for me?”

“Yes, fuck, I’m almost there, Harry!”

He sucks the tender skin of her neck between his teeth, and that’s what pushes her over the edge. Her senses totally overwhelmed. He gasps when he feels how deeply her nails dig into him from going through the motions of her orgasm. He pulls out of her quickly and comes on her stomach. He’s out of breath, pressing kisses to her cheek and neck.

“No going back now.” He says as he caresses her cheek.

“Nope.” She smiles.

He pecks her lips and turns back around to stand in the water again. Her eyes grow wide and he winces once the water cascades over him.

“Harry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize I was hurting you.”

“It didn’t hurt while it was happening, is it bleeding?” He looks over his shoulder trying to see for himself.

“Um…I broke the skin, but it’s not bloody.” She blushes. “Yikes, that’s embarrassing.”

“No it’s not.” He chuckles and moves so she can rinse her stomach off in the water. She turns it off and they both step out to towel off. “I wasn’t hurting you was I?”

“No, oh my god, it felt so good. Feels like I’m still throbbing.”

He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her close. She rests her hands on his chest.

“Do you like ice skating?”

“What?” She laughs. “Yeah, I love it, why?”

“Because once this storm is over, m’taking you on a proper date.” He kisses her forehead and lets her go. “Would you like that?”

“I’d love it.”

Harry was so peculiar, Y/N thought. One second he’s saying they can’t be together and the next he wants to take her out on a date. What she didn’t know was that he had never felt quite so good while having sex. It wasn’t because she felt incredibly tight around him, it had more to do with the trust and natural connect. He felt happy, a feeling he thought would never return.

//

To Y/N’s surprise, Harry was a really good ice skater. The two of them were like a real couple. He would visit her at work, they’d go out to the bar with his friends, and they’d have sleep overs at each other’s places. He quite liked her apartment. Not to mention, he couldn’t keep his hands off her. If they were going for a brisk walk, his hand was in hers. If they were sitting through a move, his arm was around her shoulders, and of course they were having a lot of sex. Even when she had her period, he fucked her.

“Got my red wings years ago, promise it doesn’t gross me out.” He had told her.

And god, when he ate her out. Sometimes they wouldn’t even have full on sex. Sometimes they’d be on the couch, and he’d ask if she would ride her face, and then they would just sixty-nine. Sometimes she would just blow him because she liked the way his come tasted. Harry drank a fuck ton of pineapple juice, even before they started hooking up, he always had a small can of it in his office. He just liked the taste. They were just intimate in all sorts of ways, totally comfortable.

It was when Nessa and Charlotte returned that Harry’s bubbled had to burst. School would be starting in a week, and he needed to make sure his shit was together. He had been to the office a few times, working to make sure his courses were together. He and Y/N were professional and went over the class she would be the TA for.

“This is gonna have to be what it’s like when school starts again, don’t forget.” He would say. It killed her, but she would never do anything to put his job at risk, even if she didn’t think their situation was all that serious. She had to respect his wishes.

“I’d feel more comfortable if you slept over at my place since their home.”

“Harry, they know what’s been going on…Niall and Charlotte still talk, and they-“

“I don’t care, I’d rather you be here…and only on the weekends.”

“What?”

“Saturday nights can be our night. On the weekends, you’re not my TA.”

“What will I be then?”

“My girl.”

They had put the boyfriend/girlfriend label chat on the back burner, but that was all she needed to hear to know that she was really his, and he certainly didn’t want someone else trying to steal her away. He had gotten her a necklace, it was simple, but very much her style. A way of showing her how much she truly meant to him.

“Anytime during the week you’re feeling like I don’t want you because I can’t show my affection, this will be your reminder of how much I care.”

She thought it was incredibly sweet, and it was nice to have the reassurance. When classes started, it was definitely difficult. The one thing getting her through this first week was his birthday party on Saturday. Just a small thing with friends at the bar, but still. They wouldn’t have to hide there, or so she thought. Some other professors were invited to the party, which meant Harry couldn’t touch Y/N. He frowned immediately. He wasn’t in charge of the guest list. He pulls Y/N to the side before they walk into the main area.

“I’m so sorry, I promise when we get back to my place later I’m gonna love on you all night.”

“Harry, it’s okay. It’s your birthday, I’m the one that’ll be doing the loving. Go on, enjoy.”

He gives her a discrete peck on the cheek, and then walks into the main room to say hello to everyone. Y/N invited Charlotte and Nessa, so she had other people to talk to. Niall’s arm was hooked around Charlotte’s waist the entire night. Y/N and Nessa teased her every chance they got.

“I’ve been told to check in on you. Orders from the birthday boy.” Louis says to Y/N.

“Thanks.” She chuckles. “It’s okay. Next year things will be totally different.”

“Really see things lasting then, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

“I think so, yeah. If the person who he said actually retires, I’m hoping to be able to work at the university to start out.”

“That would be great. He raves about you, you know? He’s a simple guy, likes being domestic. I think he said one of his favorite things to do with you is just cook a meal together.”

“Aw, he’s so sweet.” She pouts. “I like doing that too.”

Harry was mingling with everyone that came out for his birthday. Everyone sang to him, a cake was made him too. The second he tasted it he knew Y/N had baked it. He thought at the least they could have their picture taken together, that wouldn’t look weird.

“Harry!” One of the faculty members, Constance, comes over to him, a young woman by her side. “There’s someone I want you to meet, this is my daughter, Angie.”

“Oh! Hi, I’ve heard a lot about you.” He politely shakes her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you too.” She blushes.

“I’ll leave you to it.” Constance winks and walks away.

“I’m so sorry about her. She conned me into coming here, hope I’m not crashing your birthday.”

“You’re not.” He looks back at Y/N and then to Angie. “So, this is a set up then?”

“She seems to think we have a lot in common.”

“And perhaps we might, but…I’m sort of seeing someone. It’s a…long distance thing, so she’s not here tonight, unfortunately.”

“Oh! She could have sworn you were single, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright. I’m sure you’re lovely, I just really like this woman and I don’t want to screw it up.” He smiles and she nods.

Harry finally makes his way over to Y/N and Louis.

“Do me a favor,” He says to Louis, taking out his phone. “Take a picture of us.”

“Are you sure?” Y/N asks.

“Positive.” He smiles and puts an arm around her shoulders. Louis snaps a couple of shots and hands Harry his phone back. “Sorry you won’t be able to post these…”

“Well, I could, my insta is private, but we can talk about it later.”

“Lou, could you drop Y/N off at my place when this is over, we drove together, but I don’t wanna risk anyone seeing us leave in the same car.”

“Course, mate.”

Harry nods and walks away to continue talking to other people.

“He acts like you’re his student. I don’t see anything wrong with you two doing what you’re doing.”

“I don’t either.” She sighs. “But he worked so hard to get where he is, I have to respect doing things his way. It was a long week, but I’m happy to be going back to his place later.”

Y/N’s lips were on Harry’s the second he let her through the door. He made sure to get home before her so they didn’t even leave at the same time. She had him pushed against the wall and his hands were all over her.

“Missed you so fucking much.” He says, walking her back towards the living room. “And I loved the watch you got me, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Wanted to.” She starts unbuttoning his shirt and pushes him down on the couch, straddling him in no time.

“Gonna let me lick it, angel?”

“Is that what you want?”

“You have no idea. You’re as sweet as the cake you made me.”

“How did-“

“Y/N, I know it’s only been a month, but I’d know your baked goods anywhere.” He smirks.

She giggles and stands up to unbutton her jeans. He yanks them down her legs along with her panties and she kicks them to the side. Harry lays down on the couch and Y/N hovers over his face. He liked it better this way. One, he didn’t have to get on his knees and suffer through the pain of being on the hardwood. Two, he liked the way Y/N would just ride his tongue.

Max was upstairs, thanks to the gate. So they didn’t have to worry about him coming down and jumping on them.

“Fuck, Harry.” She moans. “Your tongue feels so good.” She rocks her hips back and forth on him, the stubble from his chin feeling extra delicious. He moans against her, lapping up every drop. “You like that, birthday boy? Like having me on you like this?” She looks down at him and see his eyes rolling into the back of his head. He sucks on her clit harshly, and that pushes her over the edge. “Oh, fuck!”

Once she’s through, she climbs off him. Before she knows it, he’s throwing her over his shoulder to bring her upstairs. He gives her bum a smack and she squeals. Y/N left plenty of scratch marks on Harry that night.

//

Y/N was antsy for every weekend. The weeks dragged on, and the weekends went by in a flash. Then she remembered something wonderful.

“Spring break!” She says, bursting into their shared office.

“What about it?” Harry chuckles.

“Two weeks off without the students!” She leans a little closer to him. “Two weeks of me not being your TA.” She grins and then sits down in her seat.

“We’ll be grading, darling.” He says nonchalantly.

“This is a pet name free zone, remember?”

“Sorry.” He smirks. “Didn’t think ‘darling’ would get your knickers in twist.”

“Fuck off.” She rolls her eyes. “Do we seriously have to grade? Can’t we do fun things? I have time off from school, I don’t wanna do anything.”

“M’surprised you don’t want to go home or go with your friends somewhere.”

“I’ve done the whole go to Florida and get blitzed thing, I’m all set. And I may go home for a couple of days, but I don’t really like being home long. Somehow I get stuck doing chores, and I get aggravated.”

“I’ll tell you what, if we get through enough of the grading, we can do something really fun.”

“Deal.” She smiles.

Sometimes Y/N felt like this was only hard for her, but it killed Harry. He had fantasies of bending Y/N over his desk, or even just kissing her good morning. He even started letting her come over on Friday nights instead of Saturday because he just couldn’t wait any longer. He knew he was being overly careful, but he just couldn’t risk it.

//

Harry stayed true to his word. They got through a lot of the grading so drove them out to the coast for a walk on the pier at a large beach. It was still too chilly for real beach weather, but there were less people around this time of year, and some of the shops were open. Y/N clung to Harry’s arm and they both just enjoyed the fresh air and the scenery. He took her to a nice dinner, and then they walked for a bit to watch the sunset.

“This was the perfect day.” She sighs as they begin their drive back to his place.

“It really was.” His rests his hand on her thigh and gives it a squeeze. “I love you, Y/N.”

She whips her head to look at him. His eyes were focused on the road. Tears start to prick at her eyes. No one ever said that to her before. She had been in relationships, but she never really got to a point for such strong words, and she certainly never felt it back.

“I love you, too.”

“Aw, look at us.” He smiles. “Two people in love.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to say that…” She sniffles.

“Hey, no need to cry, darling.”

“I just…no one’s ever told me they loved me before.”

“What?!” He squeezes her leg tighter. “But there’s so much to love. You’re kind, caring, an incredible baker, witty, funny, brilliant-“

“Harry, please.” She chuckles. “When we get home we’re making love.”

“I’ve made love to you before, just didn’t say anything. Anytime we’re really soft and careful, I’m making love to you.”

“God.” Her face flushes, thinking of the many sensual times he’s touched her. “Well, I can’t wait to do it again.”

//

It was a Tuesday, which meant Y/N wouldn’t be in the office with Harry. She had class and then a shift at Bento’s. He wanted her to be able to nap in between. He saw that the open IDS position had been posted, and he emailed her immediately. He couldn’t wait to work on her resume and cover letter together.

“Harry?” Constance knocks on the outside of his door.

“Hey, Connie! Come on in.” He beams at her. She squints at his collar, seeing just the top of a love bite.

“Did you see that girlfriend of yours this weekend?” She asks, as she sits down.

“Sure did.” He smiles. “I saw her for a while over spring break too, told her I loved her, and she said it back. I’m on cloud nine. M’sorry things didn’t line up with your daughter, she’s a very pretty girl. My friend Lou is single, maybe-“

“Harry, Harry.” She chuckles. “No worries at all, she’s been dating around a bit. I shouldn’t have just assumed you were single, and that’s great that you two are doing so well. I think I thought you weren’t seeing anyone because with your last girlfriend…well…you had pictures of her on your desk, and you gushed about her. We don’t even know this one’s name.”

“You will soon enough.” Harry did have pictures of Y/N, they were just discrete. His lock screen was the picture of them at his birthday, and his wallpaper was just a picture of her. He could look at her whenever he wanted. “She’s, uh, finishing up grad school.”

“Oh, good for her! Anyways, I came here to chat with you about my sabbatical. Obviously it’s turned into a full year instead of just the fall semester. We’re going to have a department meeting, but I wanted to see how you’d feel about stepping in as department chair while I’m gone.”

“Are you serious?!” He perks up.

“Yes.” She chuckles.

“That would be a dream! I have so many ideas, and-“

“It would mean you wouldn’t be able to teach as many classes, and you’ll have more responsibilities over winter and summer break.”

“That’s no problem, honestly. I only go to London for a couple of weeks, I’m usually in the area for summer. I’d love to give it a go. I didn’t think I’d be next in line.”

“It’s coming from my own suggestion. I’ve been doing this a long time, and I think you’d be great at it. It would sort of be a trial, and then when I come back we could reflect on the experience.”

Harry was buzzing, absolutely buzzing. He needed to tell Y/N about his good news, so he hops in his car, and zips over to her apartment. She was vegging out in a t-shirt and panties with Nessa and Charlotte, who were both dressed in the same thing. They hear the bell on their door.

“Who the fuck is that? It’s nearly nine.” Nessa says.

“No idea.” Y/N says, getting up to check it out. She sees Harry through the peephole. Her eyebrows raise, but she opens the door. “Dr. Styles, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Y/N, I’m sorry for…” He looks her up and down. “This is how you open the door?!”

“I saw it was you.” She shrugs and steps aside to let him in.

“Hi, Harry.” Charlotte and Nessa say at the same time.

“Hi girls.” He smiles and looks at Y/N. “I got great news today and I just had to see you, can we got to your room?”

“Of course.” Once they’re both in there, they sit on her bed. “So what’s up? I got your email about the job, I’m really excited.”

“Good news for both of us today. Connie, my department chair, came by to see me today, and she wants me to be department chair while she’s on sabbatical next year while she’s gone. It would be like a trial run. Me! Department chair! I have so many ideas, this is the opportunity I’ve been hoping for.”

“Oh, Harry.” She throws her arms around him. “That’s incredible, I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks.” He holds her in his arms for a moment and then lets her go so he can stand up. “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Harry…” She whines.

“Don’t start, I just wanted to see your face when I told you.”

“You could have FaceTimed me.”

“Oh.” He shakes his head. “It’s been a long day.” He chuckles.

“You can stay.”

“No, I can’t.” He caresses one of her cheeks. “I want to, but I can’t. Soon, babe, so soon.”

“Um…” She stands up and looks down. “If I get this job…I mean…the lease for this place is up June first, and…well…the girls are going to be working in schools, and won’t need to live here anymore, and…I mean, I could find new roommate and sign a new lease...”

“Or, you could come move in with me.” He takes her hands in his and kisses her knuckles.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I want you to. I want you around all the time. Being apart from you during the week really fucks with how clingy I naturally am.” He smirks.

“I like it, though. We spend all weekend in your big, comfy bed.”

“Look forward to it every week.” He sighs happily. “Just gotta get through you walking across that stage, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright.” He kisses her cheek. “I love you, sweet dreams.”

“I love you too.”

//

Harry helped Y/N apply for the job, and after two nerve-wracking rounds of interviews, and two weeks of pure stress that even Harry’s cock couldn’t squash, she got the call that she got the job. Harry took Y/N out to celebrate, they both nearly cried when she got the call. She told her parents and they were ecstatic.

“In a few years, if you feel like it, you could get your PhD for free through the university.” He says to her as they’re laying in bed.

“Hm, three degrees from the same place.” She taps her chin. “Doesn’t seem like a great idea.”

“If you can do it for free, you should. It was the smartest thing I ever did. Well that, and giving into you.”

“Giving into me?!” She laughs. “You make it sound like I seduced you.”

“I fell for you so hard. You’re just so wonderful.” He pouts. “Are your parents excited to meet me in a couple of weeks? I’m excited to meet them.”

“They’re definitely curious to see who the guy I’m going to be moving in with is.”

“Are you going to miss the girls?”

“So much! They’ve been great to live with. Nessa’s moving in with Andy. She found a college in the city he works in to teach at. She’s so good at putting productions together, I’m excited for her. Charlotte may be in the area, though. Something tells me the school she’ll be teaching at is close by to Niall.”

“I’ve never seen him so smitten. He takes the more serious part of a relationship slow, but once he’s in he’s in.” He pulls her closer to him. “Everything’s falling into place. I’ve been working with Connie to get prepared for the fall, and I couldn’t be more excited.”

“I’m really proud of you.”

“I’m proud of you too, babe.”

//

The day they had both been waiting for was finally here. The graduate ceremony was in the evening, separate from the undergraduate ceremony. Y/N wouldn’t be able to see Harry until after the ceremony. She was busy with her parents and younger siblings. Harry may have clapped and cheered extra loud when she walked across the stage. Most people around him thought it was just because she had been his TA for an entire year. Literally no one suspected more was going on between them. After today it wouldn’t matter anyways.

There was a champagne reception after the ceremony. Y/N easily found her family.

“We’re so proud of you honey. Another degree, a new job, and you’re moving in with a guy!” Her mom says.

“I’m still not thrilled about the last part. We don’t even know him.” Her dad says.

“But I do, so it’s a good thing I’m the one living with him, not you.”

Harry makes his way through the crowd over to her and her family. He takes a deep breath, and when she spots him she squeals. She runs over and jumps into his arms. They kiss as he swings her around.

“You did it!”

“I did it!” They both jump up and down for a moment. “Come on.” She holds his hand to bring him over to everyone. “Harry, these are my parents, and my two younger siblings. Ellie is going to be a senior in college this fall, and Ryan is going to be a sophomore. He’s actually transferring here in the fall.”

“That’s great! Hi, it’s so nice to meet all of you.” He shakes everyone’s hands.

“Damn, a PhD.” Ellie whispers to her sister and winks. “Nice job.” The girls giggle together.

They all decide to go out to dinner together to get to know each other better. Harry and Y/N would be meeting up with Charlotte, Nessa, and the others at the bar once dinner was over. Y/N explains how they waited a while to make things official because Harry wanted to make sure things remained professional. Harry easily impressed her parents. He was incredibly smart and knew how to work people over. Even her dad was happy with him.

Y/N got pretty drunk at the bar with her friends, and Harry was able to keep his arms around her all night without a care in the world. When he got her inside his place, he couldn’t stop kissing her and telling her much he loved her over and over. She was excited to start her new job in a couple of weeks, and he was excited she genuinely wanted to stay, and wasn’t just doing this for him. They would spend the time before starting her job to get her all moved in. They even talked about getting a larger place at some point.

“I can’t wait to snuggle with Mac every night.” She giggles as she gets into bed.

“Hey, what about me?” He pouts.

“I guess you’re nice to snuggle with too.” She jokes.

“Mhm.” He kisses on her and hovers over her. “My girl’s got her master’s. You’re so fucking smart, it turns me on.”

“Really?”

“When we did those mock interviews in my office I couldn’t stop thinking about fucking you.”

“Does this mean we can get a little sneaky in your office now?” She raises an eyebrow at him. “Or are you staying firm with your open door policy?”

“Think I may have to reconsider it, but only for you.”

[turtle-steverogers]

i was thinking but do you know the unsent project? it is this website where you can write a message to your first love that you never sent to them. now imagine steve writing one (or multiple) to bucky after he came out of the ice after nat told him about it... yeah

hello hi anon this broke me and it was too perfect not to turn into a ficlet klafjldskjfalskf thank you

-

Unsent Letters

To:

Steve’s fingers freeze over the keyboard, the cursor blinking at him. It feels like it’s taunting him-- teasing him with the burden of choking out a name. What should he even say? The sender is anonymous, but how many people are named Bucky out there? Would anyone even care?

To: Bu

Steve huffs and backspaces, his hands trembling as he curls them into fists. He isn’t sure what provoked Natasha to tell him about this website. It’s a cruel tease to everything he wishes he could say-- wished he could say before Bucky slipped through his fingers. And now his only option is yelling into an abyss. The text box is black and daunting. He turns it yellow. No, too happy. Green. Yes, that’s fine. Bucky’s favorite color was always green.

His gaze wanders away from the screen of his hefty Dell laptop and out the window of his apartment. DC’s low rising buildings span out in front of him. His gut aches; he misses New York already. But he knows being there would only mangle his soul further, seeing his already alien home torn to shreds by literal space whales. He huffs, thinking of Bucky’s comics. His stories came to life after all. Bucky would have probably vibrated out of his skin if he knew there was other life out there.

To: My astronaut

How’s space treating you? It’s treating me pretty badly, if I’m being honest. If only you could see what it’s done to Brooklyn. I think you’d be pretty mad at it if you knew…

Steve hesitates, reading back over what he’s typed. It’s stupid as hell, and he cringes, but he doesn’t backspace. His fingers find the keys again.

I miss you something awful. I don’t think that even encompasses how much I’m hurting without you. I feel so lost right now-- space is much bigger and scarier than you’d think. I know you’d love it. I wish you could see bits of it, but god, I just want to go home. I want you to come home.

Steve freezes again and finds the screen blurry where tears have welled in his eyes. His jaw clenches as he pictures the way Bucky would laugh at him-- teasing him for his dramatics and ruffling his hair. He wishes he could be there now, rolling his eyes and nudging Steve’s shoulder.

“What’re you upsetting yourself for?” He’d say, gently closing the laptop and coaxing Steve into his arms. “I’m right here, pal.”

And if Steve closes his eyes, he can almost feel Bucky’s warmth enveloping him. But he’s not there. He’s dead, and Steve’s a goddamn ghost, drifting through a future that doesn’t know him.

He opens his eyes and stares at the text box, then clicks submit.

The screen loads, and his message is gone, his pain forever documented in the abyss.

-

For someone who fought aliens two weeks after waking up from his impromptu seventy year sleep, Steve’s life is pretty monotonous. He contemplates this unfortunate fact as he stands in front of his toaster, hair sticking up on the back of his head as he nurses a mug of coffee and waits for his toast to pop.

It’s 5:45 in the morning and he tries to remember a time when he didn’t rise this early. Before the war, perhaps. Though, he’s always been a bit of an early bird. His home life was sporadic to put it lightly and he’d learned from an early age that the sooner he was awake, the better it was for everyone. Vigilance is not a new concept for Steve.

He hasn’t always stayed up late, though. That’s certainly new, and he feels this fact viscerally as he catches sight of his reflection in the microwave. There are bags under his eyes that will be gone by mid-morning thanks to the serum. Dermatologists hate him, Natasha says. Steve thinks he’s pretty lucky that the serum more or less equipped him with a built-in anti-aging agent. His father had started balding by thirty.

His toast pops and he starts a little, blinking blearily at the slightly burnt bread as he pulls it out of the toaster with his thumb and forefinger. He spreads on the same raspberry jam and butter that he uses every morning and tries not to think of how bland it tastes in his mouth as he eats it standing at the counter. Another routine.

He tries not to look at last night’s dishes in the sink as he stacks his plate and silverware on top and doesn’t bother sorting out his hair before pulling on his sneakers and slipping out of his apartment. The sun hasn’t quite risen yet, only the beginning tendrils of light sneaking over the low tops of the DC buildings, and Steve vaguely regrets not grabbing a sweatshirt before he left. It’s not quite Summer yet and the mornings could still get pretty cool.

He’s about to take off down the street when he freezes. Natasha is sitting on the steps of his complex, wearing a pair of pink tinted sunglasses and tossing up and down the keys to her car. Steve blinks, rubs his eyes, then blinks again. Nope. She’s still there.

“Nat?”

Natasha looks up at him and smiles. “Hello.”

Steve shifts, uncomfortable. “Hi. You need something? Is there a mission?”

“No,” Natasha says lightly, standing. “You’re not running this morning, though. Come on, I’m taking you to Starbucks.”

“What?”

“Starbucks. You’re going to try it.”

“I don’t want--”

“Steve, you do the same thing every day. Step out of your comfort zone a little.”

Steve frowns, but Natasha’s right-- he really doesn’t ever stray from his routine.

“Fine,” he says, and twenty minutes later, they’re strolling into the nearest Starbucks.

He’s only been in one before, and that was to use the restroom while on a run. He’d bought a water bottle in an attempt to not be rude and use their facilities without giving them any business, but he hadn’t even considered the expansive menu. All the fancy names were too daunting.

They’re just as daunting now as he stares up at the board, heart hammering out of his chest as he’s faced with indecision. Natasha takes one look at his face, and reaches out to squeeze his arm.

“I’ll order something for you,” she says. “What kind of coffee do you like?”

Steve gives her a pained look. “Um… just coffee?”

Natasha quirks a smile and orders him something called a caramel macchiato. He’ll take it, he guesses.

The drink is too damn sweet and sugary and he almost gags. Still, he was always told to finish what he was given, so he drinks the whole thing.

-

To: Mr. Sweet Tooth

You’d fucking love it here. Everything is packed with sugar and sweetness-- enough to make even my teeth rot. I had something called a caramel macchiato today and it tasted like someone took your ma’s caramels and condensed them into a cup. I couldn’t stand it, but I know if you were here, you’d want at least twelve. I hope you’re enjoying all the sweets you can up in space.

Love, Mr. Boring

-

Steve’s fingers are stiff and frozen as he works at the straps of his stealth suit. The tangy taste of saltwater still sits heavy on his tongue, and he clenches his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering too harshly as he finally peels off his suit. It’s not much better, being naked, but at least the wet fabric isn’t clinging to him anymore.

The mission had been pretty straightforward until some alien tech managed to blast the quinjet to kingdom come, and they all free-fell straight into the freezing Atlantic.

Steve had managed to keep it together as they took down the goddamn mad scientist that fucked them over, but now that he’s home and alone, he can feel the adrenaline crashing.

He’s shaking from more than just the cold as he draws himself a warm bath, and he pulls his knees up to his chest, trying to breathe through the panic that wants to engulf his entire being.

He loses time for a bit, and comes back to himself lying in his bed, burrowed under several thick layers. He feels so cold, down to his very soul-- a chill that he can never seem to truly shake, even when he’s warm.

Not for the first time, he wishes Bucky were there to hold him. He slips off to sleep thinking old, comforting thoughts of Bucky rubbing his hands between his own, coaxing his head under his chin to engulf him in that natural warmth of his. He always was a fucking furnace.

But when Steve wakes an hour later, shaking hard enough to move the bed with the force of the nightmare he’d dropped into, Bucky is not there to soothe away the ice.

-

To: JB

im so cold and i cant breathe ever and nothing feels right. I dont know what to do, u were always the problem solver between us and i cant think straight right now and i just want you here please. I cant do this anymore, im so tired please come back. I need you please

-

The Winter Soldier file sits in front of Steve-- a horrifying nightmare wrapped up in a neat brown folder. Residual nausea swirls around in his gut as he comes down from the horrible high of reading through the contents. His hands shake where they grasp the thick paper. His heart clenches hard in his chest.

Bucky is alive. Bucky is alive, and he’s been unmade.

Steve doesn’t know where he is-- if he’s escaped, or if Hydra found him again. It’s been three weeks now since the helicarriers, and he’s only just gotten the courage to sit down and wade through the shit that is Bucky’s reality.

He just hopes he’s safe. God, he hopes.

Sam says he’ll help him look, and Steve needs to know he’s at least out of danger, but he barely knows where to start.

And he’s sorry. He’s so fucking sorry.

Blinking out of his reverie, Steve looks at his laptop. He feels strange and detached as he reaches for it and logs in.

To: Bucky

And yes, that feels right. He should use his name, since he suspects no one has for a long, long time.

I’m so sorry for what happened to you. I’m sorry that you’ve been hurting so quietly for so long. I understand if you’re not ready to come home-- I understand if you never are. I just hope that you know that there will always be a place with me that is safe. I love you so much and I’m here, forever and always.

Love, Steve.

He’s not naive. He knows it would be dangerous to submit that particular message, so he doesn’t. But that’s okay. That one’s just for him-- for them.

-

“Steve? What is the… Unsent Project?”

Steve frowns and pokes his head out of the kitchen. Bucky is sitting on the couch in the living room, using his laptop, because his own is having storage issues.

Bucky looks at him. “It’s one of your saved tabs. What is it?”

And oh, fuck. Steve had forgotten to remove that from his homepage-- it really wasn’t needed anymore. He blushes all the way to his ears.

“Oh, it’s-- nothing. Not anything important--”

But Bucky has already clicked on the tab.

“The Unsent Project,” he reads aloud. “A collection of unsent text messages to… first… loves…”

He trails off as he processes what he’s looking at, and Steve can’t quite read his expression when he looks at him again. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he’s looking at Steve like he’s some sort of kicked puppy. Steve shifts, uncomfortable.

“Were you sending me… messages? While I was dead?”

Steve swallows. “Um…” and now that Bucky says it out loud, it really does sound quite sad. He shrugs. “It’s Natasha’s fault?”

Bucky shakes his head, clicking on the search bar. He starts to type his name, but Steve shakes his head.

“I didn’t use your name.”

“Oh,” Bucky says, then frowns at him again. “What did you use?”

Steve blushes harder, sitting next to Bucky and taking the laptop from him.

“Um…” he hesitates, then types what he was sure he used as his first alias.

My astronaut

The screen buffers and loads, then fifty or so messages pop up. Steve scrolls down-- it doesn’t take long to find his.

They’re both quiet as they read, and Steve cringes. Jeez, he really had been pretty dramatic. Next to him, Bucky makes a hurt noise.

“Oh, honey,” he murmurs, taking the laptop back from Steve. He reads the message again, then once more, and reaches out for Steve. “Aw, I’m here now.”

Steve huffs, embarrassed. “I know,” he says. “That was way back, like, three weeks after I woke up.”

Bucky stills. “You fought aliens three weeks after you woke up?”

“... More like two.”

Bucky hums. “Are there others?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, reaching out to type on Bucky’s lap, because Bucky is holding him now and he’s quite reluctant to move. He thinks for a moment, then types in the next one he remembers.

Mr. Sweet Tooth

Bucky laughs, and Steve finds himself smiling.

“I find this funny,” Bucky says. “Because caramel macchiatos are definitely one of my favorites now.”

Steve laughs, too, and butts his head against Bucky’s shoulder.

“If only I could tell that to myself back then-- he’d be thrilled.”

“I’m sure,” Bucky says. “Any more?”

Steve hesitates, thinking of the one he’d sent after that nightmare-- when he was low and hurting. Incoherent. He isn’t sure he wants Bucky to see that particular side of his soul, but Bucky has been more than generous in letting him in on his pains nowaday, and it’s not like Bucky hasn’t witnessed Steve’s own current nightmares.

He bites his lip and types in JB. That seems to yield a lot more results, and it takes a while for Steve to find the message.

He hides his face in Bucky’s neck as he reads. Bucky’s arms gradually tighten around him, and a moment later, he feels him kiss the top of his head.

“Honey, I hate that you were hurting so bad,” Bucky mutters against his hair.

Steve shrugs. “We both were,” he says, and it’s true. There’s something to be said about the guilt they both feel for not being able to save the other person at their lowest, but life hasn’t been kind to them. The vitriol, Steve thinks, should be directed at the goddamn universe for keeping them apart, not themselves for fucking dying. They’re working on it.

Bucky’s quiet for a long time. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he says. “Is that it?”

Steve shakes his head. “But I never sent the last one.”

“Why not?”

“I wrote it after DC.”

He feels Bucky squeeze him again, and he squeezes back.

“Oh.”

“I just-- I wanted you to know that you didn’t have to come home. That I just wanted you to be safe; needed to know you were safe, but it was up to you. I just needed you to know I was here, if you needed me.”

Bucky pulls back then and cups his face, kissing him soundly. Steve’s surprised for only a moment before he’s kissing back.

“I did know that,” Bucky says against his lips. “I needed time-- I was lost-- but the first thing I knew when I remembered who you were was that you were a safe person, because you’d never force me anywhere.”

Steve kisses him again, then pulls him into a hug. “I’m glad you knew that.” It’s warm, where their chests meet, and Bucky is solid beneath him. Real. He isn’t speaking into an abyss anymore.

-

There’s a sticky note on Bucky’s pillow next to his head when he wakes up the next morning. Steve’s side of the bed is already vacant, and he can’t hear him downstairs. He must have already left for a run.

Propping himself on an elbow, Bucky plucks up the sticky note.

To: My Bucky

Thank you for choosing me to be your home, and thank you forever, for being mine.

I love you with everything I have.

Love, your Steve

Bucky smiles, heart light as he folds the notes. He’ll keep that one with him, he thinks. A little bit of home to bring wherever he goes.

-

anyway yeah fslkjflaskjfls i-- ouch. anything to do with letters w these two hurts me immensely

[dcforts]

[week #1: summer solstice]

1.9k, deancas, established relationship, night out.

Dean killed the engine in the parking lot and looked across the street.

The huge neon sign on the door said Summer Solstice in yellow and orange and was decorated with palms and flamingos. It was flashy and intimidating.

“Is this the place?” asked Cas from the passenger seat. Dean looked over at him. He was wearing that baby blue shirt Sam had gotten him for Christmas and had styled his hair in a cute way – at least before Dean had gotten it all messed it up in the garage before they even left. Now there were some locks doing what they wanted in the back. Dean liked it anyway.

“Yeah,” he said, looking towards the entrance again. “That’s what Google says.”

“Mh,” said Cas. He didn’t sound convinced.

“We don’t have to go in,” said Dean, a little nervous.

A couple of young girls were disappearing behind the door right then. They seemed happy and relaxed and Dean was feeling uneasy.

He was too old for this. Had too much trauma, a too complicated history. This was more of a place for Claire. Or maybe not. Maybe she was too cool for it and she’d make fun of him if she knew where he was.

He and Cas didn’t belong there.

They should have stayed at the bunker, kissing on the couch, like the did every Friday night. Dean liked that.

They could still just drive away, pull over in the middle of nowhere and sit on the hood. But they did that all the time. This was supposed to be them trying new things – being out in the world, proud and all. They thought this Summer Solstice's Rainbow Friday could be a good start.

It had taken them all afternoon to find something they liked, driven an hour and a half. Cas had read him the place's entire website and now they were there and Dean was thinking of chickening out. He couldn’t believe himself sometimes.

Dean sighed. “We don’t have to go in, man,” he repeated like a broken record.

Cas was looking at a group of people coming out of the bar. They looked like they were having a good time. Behind them was a couple of guys walking hand in hand. The couple crossed the street to get into the parking lot and stopped to kiss all sweet and soft right in front of their car.

Fuck, alright, Dean was feeling really old and not at all okay.

He wasn’t even sure if he ever kissed Cas in public like that. Actually, that was a lie. He remembered every single kiss they ever shared, he just didn’t know if “no one around for miles” counted as public.

“I think we should go in.” Cas said but then looked over at him and his expression changed. “Are you feeling okay?”

Dean gulped, overheating all of the sudden even if he didn't have his usual jacket on. “Yeah, yeah.”

He rolled down his window, and now he could hear the bubbly pop song that was playing in the bar. That didn’t help.

“Dean, are you sure?”

Yeah. Yeah, sure. He was okay. He was. He could go to a damn bar with his boyfriend. That's what people did. He could do that.

“We can just see if we like it,” Cas said. “We don’t have to stay if we don’t.”

“You said you wanted to try their cocktails.”

Cas looked like he was trying very hard not to roll his eyes at him, “I think I’ll survive if I don’t.”

“It’s just – I’m not used to this kind of –" he couldn’t finish the sentence.

“I know,” Cas said anyway and Dean felt like he really did. He sighed and slumped against the seat. He caught Cas’ eyes. “We don’t have to like it,” he said once more. “It’s just something that we’re trying.”

Dean was watching his eyes and hearing his voice and he was feeling calmer already. He kept saying we and that was really helping for some reason. He couldn’t believe he'd just been freaking out about going into a bar.

“Okay, yeah,” he said, and this time he meant it. Kind of. He looked over at the place again. “So. What’s with that name anyway? Summer solstice?”

He was stalling.

Cas let him, “The longest day of the year,” he said, like a professor. Dean liked when he used that voice and didn’t say that he knew that already. “It signs the start of a new season.”

“What’s that – what’s that cocktail you wanted to try?”

“I think one was called Heatwave Sweet Heatwave,” he said and Dean couldn’t help but huff a laugh, “Oh, God”.

“And another was – Feeling Beachy.”

“Alright, stop, you’re killing me.”

Cas smiled at him. He knew Cas wouldn’t be let down if he said he wanted to go home. But Dean didn’t want to go home. He’d chosen his outfit and all, even ironed his shirt.

He didn't even know what was holding him back. He sighed, took one last look at the neon sign, then rolled the window up and took the keys out.

“Alright, come on, let’s do it,” he said opening his door.

Cas got out, rounded the car as Dean locked it and grabbed his hand.

Crossing the street felt like a huge deal, but being pulled by Cas' strong grip made it easier and Dean felt lighter and lighter. He kind of held his breath when he passed under the rainbow flag by the entrance, but nothing happened, no cold shower, no electrocution. And once they got in, he just felt – normal.

It was a long room, bustling with people, crowding the bar and the dancefloor on the far end. They were of different ages and wearing all kinds of different clothes - not the usual patrons of the hunter bars Dean was used to, but no one turned to stare at him like he'd thought would happen. They were all just chatting away and dancing and minding their business.

Cas squeezed his hand. Dean started to relax.

The bartender was half his age, had an hawaiian shirt on and sunglasses on top of his head. He was wearing one of those flag pins, but Dean couldn’t remember what it meant. He took one look at them and said, “First time?” and Dean thought he must have looked like grade-A idiot.

Not even the time to open and close his mouth like a fish that the guy had slammed two shots on the counter in front of them and winked, “On the house. Welcome.”

So that was a good start.

Then Dean got addicted real quick to a concotion called Tropic Like It’s Hot and went back for seconds and thirds on the mini sandwich platter on the buffet table, all while saying sandwich with fruit should be made illegal worldwide.

They played really terrible remixed songs that Dean didn’t know but got the crowd going, but then they played a bunch of his girl's Taylor and a bunch of the ones Cas liked. Cas said he wasn’t gonna dance but still followed him onto the dancefloor and kind of moved his head and feet a bit while working through his second Feeling Beachy and Dean got to dance all stupid around him and make him laugh so that was nice.

He went to the bathroom for two seconds and when he came out, Cas was at the bar again and someone was chatting him up. Dean prepared for the worst, but when he got closer the guy smiled all bright and said, “Hey, you’re Dean, right?”

He looked a little like Benny, which was weird, and was wearing very short shorts ,which Benny wouldn’t have worn, even if he could’ve totally pulled them off in Dean’s opinion.

Anyway, the fact that it looked a little like Benny made Dean feel instantly comfortable around him and he felt only moderately scrutinized when they were joined by a couple of his friends who asked about their whole life story – even the damn bartender from before leaned over the counter to listen in. Apparently they were all regulars of their Friday events and they all knew each other.

Dean almost doubled over in laughter when Cas said he was an exterminator and that got him thinking that he should definitely stop drinking Tropics, because apparently they were pretty strong under all the sugar. He was glad to let Cas handle the conversation and they were nice to them, even said they hoped to see them back before they left with their drinks.

Dean realized it was the first time he was being seen for who he was by total strangers and not feeling worried about it at all. It felt good, it felt exciting.

Dean looked at Not-Benny walking away with his short shorts and wondered if he could pull them off too.

“Yes, of course,” said Cas all serious, and Dean realized he’d asked that out loud.

Yeah, he should have stopped drinking like a drink ago.

Cas got suddenly very close to his face and said “Is everything okay? Do you wanna go?” and Dean leaned forward to kiss him, because everything was okay, and it was Friday night after all, and that was still his favourite thing to do on a Friday night.

Not-Benny found them again and gave them flower garlands to wear for being newbies and Dean only itched to get rid of his for the first ten minutes, but then he didn’t and the itch disappeared. Also, Cas kept pulling him around with it and that felt especially nice.

They came out of there two hours later and Cas stopped him by the car to kiss him all sweet and soft right there in the parking lot.

Dean felt dizzy and happy and not at all too old.

They got breakfast at a diner on the way to the bunker and although Dean longed for his bed, the sight of Cas sitting across from him sipping on his coffee, his left side lighted by the rising sun was so nice that he also kind of wished he could stay there forever.

“We should get something for Sam,” said Cas in the end, so they got up, went back to the car and drove the rest of the way, speeding with the windows rolled down, humming those catchy songs that got stuck in their head.

Sam was yawning in the kitchen, waiting for his coffee to brew, when they appeared on the door. He had an amused expression on his face in two seconds when he saw them, “You guys are just coming in?”

Dean gave him his donut. Sam smiled at him and said, “Really nice garland, man. Cas sent a pic.”

Dean regretted giving him his donut. He scowled at Cas, “How do you even do that?” He hadn't even seen him using his phone.

Cas was stealing Sam’s coffee and pretended not to hear him, his back turned, doing the worst impression of the Invisible Man ever.

He also put a cup in Dean's hand though, so Dean stopped scowling at him. They got out of the kitchen right before Sam started lamenting, “Guys, you drank all my coffee!”

They collapsed in bed without undressing and Dean got to unbutton Cas’ baby blue shirt and slip a hand in to touch his skin, then bury his nose in his neck. He smelled of pineapple and coffee and still somehow of that cologne he’d sprayed himself with the night before.

"In my defence, you look very good in that picture," whispered Cas, sounding like he was one moment away from falling asleep.

Dean stayed awake for a while longer, basking in an unfamiliar state of quiet euphoria. He was smiling.

He was okay. He was.

@bend-me-shape-me said #deancassummerprompts21 and I said YES

[theasstour]

𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟏𝟎.𝟒𝐊 𝐍𝐁: 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞

A/N: IT’S FINALLY HERE 🐚🌊✨ Lightkeeper!Harry is here and I’m BEYOND excited to show you lot this concept I’ve been thinking about quite literally everyday for MONTHS now! I love this story with my entire heart, and I really hope it resonates with some of you and that you fall completely in love with lightkeeper!harry and ST like I have 🥺 Love you! Enjoy! x

Thursday, 11 June

The universe would always balance itself out, Y/N McKay was aware of this. She was aware that if she had faith and believed everything happens for a reason, it would make the tough times of her life easier to mentally handle. If she did good, the universe would work to give it back to her in some other form. However, that didn’t mean that when something dreadful did happen it wouldn’t affect her, and she wouldn’t feel hopeless. Because she did. Very much so.

Most of her life she had lived in a constant state of harmony. She was neither displeased nor satisfied with the life she was leading because it kept her out of trouble; it kept her safe. Her entire life she had lived in peace in Winchester, a fairly prissy town in the middle of Hampshire county in England. Her father owned a business of sorts, Y/N had never gotten the details of it or how he’d gotten where he was, but all she knew was he inherited it from his father and it was expected to be handed down generation after generation in the McKay family. However, Y/N was an only child and neither her mum nor her dad thought she’d be fit to run the business when the time came.

“Nothing personal, darling,” her mother had said when it was brought up during a dinner when Y/N was still in sixth form. “You just don’t have the brains for it.”

“What your mother means to say,” Y/N’s father went on. “You’re so intelligent in your own way, running the business won’t make you happy.”

They always called it that. The business. They never told her what it was about or explained when she asked questions about it. Not that she expected her dad to be a drug lord, but it would’ve been nice to be let in on something. It would’ve been nice to be given the opportunity to feel of enough importance to someone to know special things.

Y/N looked out the window of the train, the Cornish coast stretching out as far as the eye could see, the sun not yet hanging high enough on the sky to make it dreadful to walk outside in her black oversized smock dress. The book in her lap was still open, though she’d read the same page over and over and over again, not being able to concentrate for long enough to remember what happened at the top of the piece of paper. Everything was fuzzy and she had too much to think about; too much to consider.

The last 24 hours had been the worst of her life. Yesterday had turned everything upside down and she hated it. However, thinking the universe would balance itself out and work in her favour, she was also aware that the reason her life needed help to be smoothed out by higher powers in the first place, was because it was in imbalance. Something was off. Something had thrown it off. But she forced herself to stay hopeful, knowing that if she lost that little flicker of hope in what seemed like an endless night, it’d be next to impossible to find her way back to peacefulness.

She glanced down at the book in her lap and was about to start reading again, not liking it when she had to put the book away in the middle of a chapter. She wasn’t given the opportunity as the overhead speakers sounded their soft alarm, and next second, a woman was speaking.

“Next stop is St Ives. Doors will open on the right-hand side.”

The nerves Y/N had felt in the pit of her stomach came back again, this time with more intensity than the last few. Though she realised what she was doing that morning when she boarded her train for Reading, and then again when she stepped on the train for St Erth, and yet again when she sat down on the train towards St Ives, this time it felt worse than all those times before. This was it. She was here.

She had no idea why she chose St Ives out of all places in Cornwall – in the world even –, why here of all places? Even years later, she could never seem to remember the exact moment when she chose that coastal town, or why it had appealed to her at all. Maybe it was the fact that it had a beach, or that it wasn’t particularly populated, or that there was no way anyone she had ever known would be there. The most important part however, and maybe the only reason why she chose St Ives, was because it was far away from Winchester. It was far away from her family, from her ex, and everything she associated with that town and everyone living in it.

She put The Well of Loneliness by Radclyffe Hall away in her purse, slinging her purse over her head to rest across her chest before she reached up and took her old leather bag down from the overhead compartment.  This was the only one she would risk bringing as it used to be her father’s back in the day, but he never used it anymore and wouldn’t suspect it being gone. Placing the strap on her shoulder, she walked off to the closest door, apologising when she jabbed someone with her bag on the way out.

Stepping off, Y/N instantly regretted wearing a long-sleeved dress. Though she was under the protection of the roof above the platform, the heat was still almost insufferable. It got her wondering if this was just a normal day in the very South of England or if it was an exceptionally hot one. She prayed for the latter.

She walked out of the station, staying in the cool shade for a few minutes longer as she typed in the address of the inn she was staying at. Not really knowing how public transit worked here yet, she didn’t want to risk taking the wrong bus or asking a tourist for directions to a place they’d never heard of. Instead, she put her EarPods in and went on her merry way. The second she stepped out into the sun, she was once again reminded of why she’d never wear that black dress again that summer.

The Roaming Crab Inn was on The Terrace, the road along the coast of St Ives, holding dozens of hotels and other places to stay during a visit. Y/N didn’t know why she’d chosen this exact inn, or how she’d even happened upon it. It might’ve had something to do with the picture of the old lady grinning from ear to ear on the inn’s website. A picture that was so lovely and so warm that, in the midst of everything Y/N was going through right then, it made her tear up.

She stepped into the inn, placing her sunglasses on the top of her head, and made sure her hair looked alright before walking a bit further inside. Cherry wooden panels lined the floors, walls, and ceiling, a reception desk in the same style attached to the wall to the right. Pictures of all kinds of people hung on the walls. Y/N suspected it might be locals as well as dear guests who had come and gone over the years. No lights were on as the sharp afternoon sun was sufficient in keeping the lobby just bright enough o that electricity wasn’t needed. Fake green vines hung along the ceiling and walls, as well as from different pots on the fireplace to the right that didn’t seem to be in use. Still, two old recliners stood beside it, tempting to sit down and drown in, to escape a turbulent life.

To the left was a staircase leading up to the other landings, and though Y/N hadn’t stepped foot on it yet, she already knew it creaked. This entire house seemed more like a cottage you’d find in the middle of the country, not on the coast of South England. She slowly started making her way over to the reception, and that was when she noticed the back door. Behind the desk was an old, white windowed door, a little smaller in height but a little wider in breadth than normal doors – like the entrance. It was open, leading the way out into a back garden that seemed to be both small and surrounded by the neighbouring houses on all sides. The wooden fence was covered in vines, flowers of all kinds poking out amongst them and on the ground around. The stone paved patio seemed to be old and uneven, there was a set of bistro metal chairs in all the colours of the rainbow along with a white table to match them.

A gang of old ladies sat around the table, chattering amongst themselves and occasionally laughing, all holding a different knitting project each. Y/N hated the thought of disturbing them, but she also just wanted to check in and go up to her room; maybe even go for a walk to take a look around the place she’d be in for the next few weeks.

She reached for the bell, hitting it lightly as to not make it sound urgent and intrusive. A small yelp was heard from the back garden and then the sound of the metal chair scraping against the stone patio. As she heard the footsteps get closer, Y/N glanced around, taking in the interior of the inn undisturbed one more. As someone appeared in the doorway and their eyes met, the old lady who stood there gave Y/N that warm smile of hers she’d seen online the night before.

“Hello, dear!” she chirped, placing her glasses on the bridge of her nose and walking over to the computer on her side of the desk. “How are you?”

“I’m good, thank you. And yourself?”

The old lady smiled, her eyes almost disappearing behind her high cheekbones. Her long white hair was fastened in a bun at the back of her head, the rest of her dressed in a pair of white trousers and a tunic with some bird print on it.

“I’m wonderful. What’s your name then, lovely?”

“Y/N McKay.”

“Ahh,” she said. “You’re the one who booked your stay last night.”

“That’s me, yeah,” Y/N chuckled, brushing some hair behind her ear.

“Till August 10th.”

“Yes.”

“Right then, Y/N,” the lady said, taking a key hanging from the wall beside her and taking her glasses off, smiling the entire time. “Let me show you to your room.”

The two walked up to the second floor, taking a right as they arrived and the inn-keeper unlocked the door. The innkeeper kept the door open for Y/N, letting her walk in first. Though the floor and ceiling were similar to the wooden panels of the lobby, the walls were white. Against the same wall that the door came to rest against stood an old blue dresser, and a fake flower in an elegant vase that seemed to be just one of the many flowers in the room. The double bed stood to the far left wall, white sheets covering it and looking so lush that it took everything in Y/N not to sprint over and throw herself onto it. There was a desk as well as a recliner, and a window on the opposite wall overlooking the ocean that was just about a minute’s walk from here.

“The bathroom is over there,” the innkeeper said, pointing at a door beside the staircase. “You share it with the other guests on the same floor as you, alright?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” Y/N admitted, genuinely meaning it as well. She didn’t see the problem with that in the least.

“I’m mostly downstairs or in the next house over, which is mine,” she continued. “So if there’s ever anything you think I could help you with, do pop by.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, my goodness,” she suddenly exclaimed, walking over to Y/N. “I’ve completely forgotten to introduce myself. I’m Bessie.” Bessie smiled at Y/N again, making the latter almost want to cry for the umpteenth time that day. “And I really hope you enjoy your stay here in St Ives.”

With that, the innkeeper left Y/N to herself. Y/N let her bag and purse fall to the floor before she dragged the chair by the desk over to the window. She opened it and just stared out across the beach and sea outside. Seagulls were howling overhead, waves were crashing against shore, and the familiar salty scent of the presence of the ocean lingered in the air constantly. It was like one of those trips she’d taken with her parents every summer, a new place every year, always by the coast. Her favourite might’ve been their vacation in Bali. It was gorgeous beyond comprehension, in a way no other place she’d ever been could come close to. But she was aware she’d never go on another trip with her parents again. Not after everything that happened the night before.

Now she couldn’t rely on them any longer. She was on her own. She had no idea what she was going to do, no idea what lay ahead of her. As she at on the chair looking out over St Ives, the town she’d spend her summer in, she realised she’d never felt more forlorn.

St Ives is a coastal town located in the very south-west of the southernmost county in England, Cornwall. It is known for its surf beaches – most well-known being Porthmeor – and its many art galleries and restaurants. Tate St Ives is a gallery at the seafront and has rotating modern art exhibitions, focusing primarily on British artists. The Barbara Hepworth Museum and Sculpture Garden is located in the modernist artist’s former studio, displaying her bronzes and other works.Y/N, having grown up in a fairly posh family with exquisite and particular taste, knew a thing or two about art. 

She always had her purse on her, and in it she’d keep all the essentials for going out and about. Hand sanitiser, Kleenex, band-aids, pads, keys, a portable charger, and the book she was currently reading. The Well of Loneliness lay in her purse as she strolled around, a St Ives guide book in her hand that she’d bought at one of the local stores on what must’ve been their high street.

First and foremost, she wanted to do some sightseeing. She’d be here for a long time, so she might as well get acquainted with the town she’d stay in and learn its ins and outs. There is this part of St Ives called The Island, that isn’t at all an island, but it is just called that. The Island is the imposing headland that juts out into the seat from the spit of land that separates the harbour and Porthmeor beach – the most popular and most central beach in the town. In ancient times it was a promontory fort, but these days it’s probably better known as a location of the tiny chapel of St Nicholas. Walking to The Island, Y/N took in the incredible views of the ocean surrounding her, and the beach – The Townas - beside her that was cramped between The Island and Godrevy Point on the other side.

To her left was what looked to be Hellesveor Cliff, and at the very point of it, on the top of what must’ve been the most haunting cliff Y/N had ever seen, stood a lighthouse. Looking in her guide book, it didn’t say much about the lighthouse except the care of it had been passed down generation after generation by the family currently living there. It was at the very edge of St Ives, farther out than Godrevy Point. It made it so Porthmeor, St Ives, and The Townas were all guarded by these two points, the St Ives Lighthouse watching over its town and the far coast around.

Continuing on her walk, she strolled down the Down-a-long, which is the old, lower part of St Ives built on the narrow ridge of land that separated The Island to the rest of the town. This part of town is the archetypal image of St Ives with its jumble of cobble streets lined with whitewashed, old cottages, some seeming to fall apart and others in better condition. Y/N thought the street names were equally evocative and unique, some of her favourites being Salubrious Place, Teetotal Street, and The Digney. Though it said in her catalogue that fishermen used to live in the Down-a-long before, next to none lived there now as most of it was occupied by galleries, cafes, and little shows that one can shake a stick at. As she strolled through Fore Street, the main shopping street in St Ives, she walked by a vintage shop – Vintage Divine – and jotted it down on her phone.

All her life, Y/N had always loved everything vintage. She liked the thought of owning something that had once been part of someone else’s life, that had made them happy enough they wanted to hand it on and give someone else that same happiness they’d experienced. Though neither her mum, her dad, or her ex-boyfriend liked her obsession with vintage and stuff owned by others before her, their disinterest had never stopped her from going to markets or stores. However, she never bought anything unless she knew she could hide it. Now, she thought, that didn’t have to be a problem.

A few years back when she started to realise her obsession with old stuff, furniture, clothing, and books owned by others before her, she read an article online. The article had suggested that people are attracted to vintage pieces because they offer an escape. Wearing these garments, holding these ornaments, touching furniture from another time is a way to experience a different life. A life that isn’t your own and that was lived before hers or parallel to hers. Shopping vintage then created an exciting search for something special and creative, something a normal shopping trip could never give her. It was weird how much she was looking forward to going through that shop, Y/N realised, but she couldn’t wait to explore and take items home with her. Not that she expected she’d be welcomed home to Winchester anytime soon, but she chose not to think about that too much.

Fore Street was a narrow and cobblestone-clad street with people milling about trying to find a decent place for lunch. Stone cottages lined both sides of the street, either a neutral colour like white, a dull yellow, beige, light blue, or just plain, grey stone. Y/N enjoyed walking among these houses. It was a quiet town, peace seemed to be permanently settled between the cramped streets and tiny houses. Though Winchester wasn’t London with its tall buildings and never-ending bustle, St Ives was even smaller than her hometown, which made it that much more appealing to her. There was a sense of relaxation in the mere atmosphere around her that massaged the tension out of her shoulders and straightened her hunched back.

The door to the Seafood Café she was about to walk by burst open. A couple of people standing around jumped at the commotion, as did Y/N. Dressed in high-waisted loose fitted denim jeans, a white tee shirt tucked into them, a pair of orange worn down Vans, and brown curls in a dishevelled mess, the man who caused the ruckus didn’t seem to notice everyone’s attention being on him. He halted a bit as he came outside before he walked left. Y/N stopped moving, the sudden interruption in her peaceful stroll taking her off guard. The man suddenly started straight for Y/N, his head bent, eyes on the cobblestone before him. He didn’t seem to notice where he was going, not looking up in the direction he was heading. So, when he saw Y/N’s shadow, that’s when he glanced up. Their eyes met just a second before he managed to stop, preventing them from crashing into one another.

“Oh!” he erupted, voice crescendoing. He blinked twice, eyes settling on her for a few seconds before he said a quick, “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, I should’ve moved out of the way,” Y/N assured him, about to step to the side when she noticed his lips moving again. No words came out, though. She stood there for a few seconds, just watching his jaw and lips work, not seeming to find his words.

“Have a good day,” she went on, trying to step out of the way when the man blurted out, “Please, miss.”

She looked at him again, about to narrow her eyes when she saw a troubled expression on his face. His eyes were a little wide and he glanced over his shoulder before meeting her eyes again. The door to Seafood Café opened again, a woman and a younger girl stepping out.

“Please,” he repeated, voice low. “Go along.”

Y/N frowned. “Excuse me?”

“I’ll owe you my entire life if you just play along for a minute or two, yeah?”

She cocked her head some to the side. “I don’t know what you mean, sir. I should-“

“-I don’t usually do this- I mean, I never do, I’ve never done this before – ever -, but-but they think I have a girlfriend and I don’t. Please-“

“-Harry!”

The man – who Y/N could only assume to be Harry - turned around to face a tiny Filipina woman and an even smaller girl beside her, who looked to be no older than ten. The two looked Y/N over, eyes scanning her from head to toe. Y/N felt like she was under a magnifying glass.

But while they took her in, Y/N’s thoughts wandered to the words the man beside her had said only a few seconds earlier. “They think I have a girlfriend and I don’t.” Was he… was he saying what Y/N thought he was saying? She glanced at him, seeing him draw a shaky breath and meet her eyes, waiting for her to make the next move it seemed. Everything that had happened in the last minute confused her. She didn’t know this man, didn’t know what he’d told these two women or why. She was also well aware that by just walking away she wouldn’t need to worry about him any longer; his problems weren’t hers. This seemed messy, confusing, and a little risky.

Usually, she wouldn’t want any part of it. The Y/N she was yesterday wouldn’t have considered this. She would’ve looked at the man apologetically before excusing herself and walking off, leaving him to figure out whatever lie he’d told these two on his own. But Y/N had changed. Or… at least that’s what she wanted to believe… Fine, she wanted to change, and maybe this was a place to start.

Harry sighed, turning around to face the two he had tried to get away from, shoulders sinking as he met their eyes. The defeat was evident in his body language; he was about to give up and just tell them that he didn’t have a girlfriend. That’s what finally did it, seeing how it took absolutely everything out of him to tell them the following. “Jasmine, I’m sorry, I need to tell you-“

“-It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Y/N interrupted him, smiling as she stepped out from behind Harry. Though she had seriously considered helping him, it still surprised her when she actually heard the words coming out of her mouth. Her heart was beating about as fast as it had that morning when she’d left Hampshire.

Harry looked at her, mouth falling open, obviously shocked by her willingness to help him. It took him a few seconds to gather himself, but once he did, he looked back at the two they were trying to convince with a bright smile on his face.

“What did you have to tell me, Harry?” the older woman asked.

“That, uhh…” He looked at Y/N again before glancing at who she could only assume to be Jasmine. “Jessa, this is my girlfriend.”

Jasmine raised her eyebrows, eyes lighting up suddenly. The girl beside her stood there fidgeting with the hem of her top, looking Y/N up and down still.

“Hi,” Y/N said, stepping forward and reaching her hand out for Jasmine. “I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N,” Jasmine said, a smile coming to rest on her round face as they let go of the others’ hand. “Harry, you said her name was unusual.”

“That… I-“ Harry stopped himself.

Y/N’s lips parted, unsure how to react to that.

“That’s why you didn’t want to tell us her name, since it was so unusual. Y/N isn’t unusual.”

Y/N chuckled a little, looking at Harry whose whole face was a shade of red she’d never seen before. He glanced around him, meeting her gaze before quickly looking to the ground, scratching at his neck.

“You thought my name was weird?” She was well aware Harry hadn’t known her name until that point, let alone had any time to form an opinion on it. But regardless, she found it funny how he’d refused to give them his pretend girlfriend’s name by telling them it was an unusual one, as if they’d laugh at it.

“I didn’t-“ Harry sighed. “It wasn’t like I was embarrassed I just…” He trailed off, motioning with his hands, but Y/N had no idea what that meant. She didn’t take it to heart, though, knowing it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with his cover-up story.

“He has such a way with words,” Jasmine said, clicking her tongue at him. “Anyway, I’m Jasmine, but just call me Jessa. Harry’s stepmother.”

“And I’m Grace.” The little one stepped forward, grinning from ear to ear. The small one had the same roundness to her face as the woman beside her, as well as the same flat nose and almond shaped eyes like Jessa’s. “Harry’s kept you a secret.”

“Gracie, I haven’t kept her a secret as much as I’ve kept her away,” Harry said. “You’re gonna scare her.”

“We won’t scare her!” Jessa exclaimed. “It’s your girlfriend, Harry! We will be nice.”

“Somehow doubt that.” Harry turned to Y/N, turning his back to his step mum and what must be his half-sister. “They like to interrogate, especially Jasmine.”

“You villainise us,” Jessa said, walking closer to them and taking Y/N’s hand between hers. It took her off guard and she almost pulled her hand away, the feel of someone’s skin voluntarily touching hers felt weird.

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” Harry continued, ignoring Jessa. There was an apology in his eyes that he didn’t voice. Or at least that’s what Y/N thought she saw anyway. “They’ll make it hard to enjoy yourself.”

Jessa reached over and pinched Harry’s exposed forearm. He flinched away from her, glaring as he stepped back a few paces.

“Now you’re being rude.”

“I don’t want you lot to make her uncomfortable with all your questions,” Harry said, a frown etched in his forehead. He hadn’t met Y/N’s eyes directly ever since they almost walked into one another. “Besides, she’s…” Harry’s eyes fell to the guide in Y/N’s hand. “She’s sightseeing.”

Y/N smiled at Jessa and Grace, showing them the small book she was carrying with her. “I’ve just been to the Island. The view from there is fantastic.”

“Harry, the view from the Island is nothing. Have you shown her yet?”

“Jessa, it’s… she’s just…”

Finally, he looked at her, not knowing what to say that would make his stepmother give it a rest. Y/N could understand why she asked so many questions, she was just eager to get to know someone who she thought was Harry’s new partner.

“I arrived this morning,” Y/N answered, smiling at Jasmine. “We haven’t had the time to meet up properly, so in the meantime I’ve just been walking around.”

“Where’s your luggage?”

“At the Inn. The Roaming Crab.”

Jessa’s eyes went wide, looking at Harry disapprovingly again. “She’s not even staying with you? What kind of boyfriend are you?”

“She could stay at our house,” Grace said, eyes on the space that separated Y/N and Harry before she met Y/N’s eyes.

“It’s not that… It’s not like that, I-“ Harry stopped himself, dragging his hand over his face that had been bright red ever since this whole spectacle started. “You’re blowing this out of proportion.”

“Am I?” Jessa crossed her arms.

“Yes… I-“ Harry stuttered and though Y/N hadn’t known this man for very long, she could tell he found it hard to find his words in stressful situations.

“We didn’t want to overwhelm each other. We haven’t stayed together for a long period of time before, this would be the first, so I’m staying at the Inn so we won’t get tired of each other too quickly.” Y/N hoped she sounded confident and truthful; she wouldn’t want to blow this for Harry already. After all, she had no idea how long he’d need this pretend girlfriend lie for.

A frown appeared between Jasmine’s brows and it dawned on Y/N that she must’ve said something wrong just now. Panic rose to her chest, but Harry cleared his throat.

“Except for that trip to Exeter last month, but that was only a single weekend. Now she’s here for…” He narrowed his eyes, as if the answer was at the tip of his tongue but Y/N knew she was the only one with an answer to that.

“August 12th,” she said, Jessa letting go of a small squeal at the sound of it. “Dunno how many weeks that’ll be, but I’m-“

“-That’s fantastic! You need to come to Gracie’s birthday next weekend.”

Harry stuttered a little, Jessa’s enthusiasm making him nervous, Y/N thought. “Nanay-“

“-She’s going to love that, won’t you, Gracie?”

Grace nodded her head, grinning up at Y/N. “You can put pretty stuff on my eyelids.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows some and Jessa laughed. “Eyeshadow.”

“Oh! Well, I don’t have loads of that since I’m no good with make-up, but I do have nice jewellery.” Y/N picked at the one she was wearing just then, a gold necklace she’d gotten for her birthday the year before.

Grace’s smile didn’t fade one bit at that. In fact, it only seemed to get a little bigger at the sight of Y/N’s pretty necklace. The girl didn’t say anything, but she swayed from side to side, looking excitedly up at her brother’s supposed new girlfriend.

“You’re coming then?” Jessa asked, looking so happy she might burst, and it hurt Y/N that she probably wouldn’t.

“Jessa, we have barely had time to catch up, let her breathe,” Harry pleaded and Jessa waved her hands at them.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overwhelm you, Y/N. It’s just…” Jasmine’s eyes fell on Harry standing beside Y/N, her eyes glistening. “It’s just so nice to know Harry’s not alone anymore.”

“I’ve never been alone, nanay.”

Jessa shook her head, sighing heavily. “Alright, we’ll leave you two lovebirds alone. You’ll probably want some time to yourselves to just walk around. Has she been to the lighthouse, Harry? Take her there.”

Harry sighed, scratching at the back of his neck. “Nay-“

“-Fine, we’ll leave. It was so nice to finally meet you, Y/N.”

“You too, Jessa. And you, Grace.”

Grace gave a wave before Jessa took her hand and the two walked away, probably on their way home or whatever other plans they had. Y/N watched them for a few before turning to Harry. His blush had calmed down a little, but a bead of sweat had appeared at his cupid’s bow. If it was because of nerves or the weather, she did not know, but she was not about to ask him that.

Upon closer inspection and now that they didn’t have Harry’s stepmum and sister watching over them, Y/N could finally study the man she rescued for a total of five minutes. Green eyes that reminded her of the moors she’d spend time running through each summer, a slight stubble along his soft jawline, nose a little too big for his face, and a slight dimple in each cheek even though he wasn’t smiling fully yet. She wondered what they’d look like if he actually grinned.

“Hi,” she said, reaching her hand out. “Y/N.”

Harry chuckled softly, taking her hand, eyes staying on the place they were touching each other. “Harry.”

“I’m glad I could be of some help, Harry.”

A crooked smile reached his lips as his eyes fell to the ground and he stepped away, letting his hand fall to hit his thigh. He glanced up at her. “Thank you for that. They say they’re worried, but they’re really just nosey.”

Y/N grimaced a little, making a breathy laugh escape Harry’s lips. “Is your life more interesting than theirs?”

“Not in the least. I lead the most boring existence in the most boring town in the United Kingdom.”

She chuckled, reaching for her necklace. “Not sure you can claim that title, my life’s pretty up there as well.”

Harry tried to shove his hands into the pockets of his jeans, but the arms of his denim jacket wrapped around his waist were in the way. “Oh?”

“Blimey, I won’t keep you if you’ve got things to do. You look like a busy man.”

Harry stared at the watch on his wrist and bit his bottom lip, looking up at her through his thick set of dark eyelashes. “Yeah, I gotta be on my way actually.”

She gave him a smile, getting one in return.

“Listen, thank you so much for that. I just needed to get them off my back. You don’t actually have to come to Gracie’s birthday party, Jessa just loves when she gets to interrogate people. Her favourite sport is discussing gossip.”

Y/N laughed. “You burn a lot of calories doing that.”

Harry chuckled, scratching at his neck as his eyes fell to her neck and then shoulder. “Anyway, I don’t know how to repay you. If you’re here till August, I guess I’ll see you around.”

For some reason, Harry not really knowing what to say was funny to Y/N. It wasn’t like he owed her anything or the other way around. She’d just helped him out and now they could part ways. Easy as that.

“You don’t have to repay me, I’m glad I could help,” she smiled. “I’ll try and stay out of your way if I see you out and about. You know, to avoid the awkward conversation of telling them we’re not actually together.”

Harry’s lips tipped upward. “Right, thanks.”

“Now, since I’m talking to you,” she said, opening the catalogue again. “Where’s the Tate Gallery?”

Harry turned around, pointing up Fore Street from where they stood. “When you reach Bunkers Hill, you follow that all the way up to Back Road, then you just walk along The Digney and it’ll be on your right-hand side.”

“Thank you so much.”

“No, thank you. I… It was too much-“

“-I’m serious when I say I’m glad I could help, don’t worry about it.” She shot him one last smile before giving him a wave. “Bye, Harry.”

“Bye,” he said, giving her a short nod before she focused her attention back on her surroundings. She needed to catch the street names and get her walk to the Tate on the first try because she could really not be asked to walk back and whip her phone out. After all, Harry just helped her so it was going to be easy to just follow his navigation and get there.

As she strolled along the gallery and the rest of St Ives that day, she couldn’t help but think about that little encounter earlier. She wondered what happened after that, if Jessa and Grace demanded more information from Harry or if he told them how it was all a lie. Putting it all aside, she focused on her trip instead. She’d never meet that family again, but she really hoped everything worked out for them regardless. The last thing she needed was for this summer to be about anything but her and what she really wanted in life. She didn’t need distractions. Her whole life up until now had been a distraction.

Friday, 12 June

Being in south England and not taking advantage of the amazing beaches this part of the country offered, was maybe on the same wrongdoing scale as committing a serious crime. Y/N had gotten dressed that morning and headed straight downstairs to eat breakfast in the tiny dining hall of the Inn. It was positioned in what must’ve originally been the living room in the house, four tables placed in there with two chairs placed by each of them. The dining room had the same layout as the entrance to the Inn; wooden panels all over, flowers and plants everywhere along with pictures and candles to top it off.

When she walked downstairs, Bessie was quick to jump up from where she was sitting in her small back garden, meeting Y/N with a warm beam on her face. When Bessie asked Y/N if she’d like a meat, vegetarian, or vegan full English, Y/N startled herself by replying vegetarian. She hadn’t grown up vegetarian, but in all her life, she’d never had a purely vegetarian meal. So, instead of correcting herself, she let Bessie make her that vegetarian breakfast. The thought of eating something she hadn’t before didn’t make her anxious as she thought it would’ve, but she was rather excited about the whole thing.

Bessie came out with the tray, setting it down before Y/N and asked her if she would mind Bessie’s company. With a quick reply encouraging the old lady to sit down, Bessie ran – or walked as fast as her short legs could take her – outside and returned with her knitting. Y/N had been alone pretty much all day the day before nd she had anticipated being alone all day today as well, so she rather enjoyed Bessie’s company. She had never really envisioned this to be part of her trip to Cornwall – an old lady with her grey hair put neatly in a bun with two knitting needles holding it up, wearing a long bohemian dress and glasses perched on the end of her nose, talking her ear off and Y/N having an immense amount of fun in the process.

The sea and seagulls sounded from inside the Inn, but as Y/N put her bathing suit and summer dress on, on her way down towards the beach, the costal sounds only intensified. The salt in the air clung to her skin and the smell of seaweed got more prominent the closer she got to the ocean. She put her stuff down and brought The Well of Loneliness out again, wanting to finish the book that day because she really wanted to know how it all ended. She wasn’t sure how much time went by as she laid there, completely captivated by the world Radclyffe Hall had created within the book.

It wasn’t that Y/N particularly enjoyed the book. No, it wasn’t that. It was endlessly long and detailed, for absolutely no purpose. The writing wasn’t particularly memorable; one wouldn’t remember it for its evocative and imaginative characteristics, nor for Hall’s ability to tell instead of show. Over the years she’d studied English in college, Y/N knew that a writer should be able to balance those two out; show some, tell some. But that concept was lost on Hall. No, Y/N didn’t like The Well of Loneliness for its writing, not even the plot.

She liked the book because of the plea embedded in it. The plea for LGBT people to be treated as human; that they were normal and not a disease. Why did they have to be other? They didn’t choose this life so why were they to be punished for it by being treated differently? By being illegal? The Well of Loneliness was published around the same time Orlando by Virginia Woolf, who was one of Y/N’s favourite authors ever. Though these two books touched on similar themes of identity, where Orlando shrouded the issue of mysticism, The Well dared to discuss sexual identity openly. Y/N commended Radclyffe Hall for that.

However much Y/N sympathised with Hall and the main character, Stephen, she couldn’t help but laugh at the hypocrisy in the book. While it attempted to strive for acceptance of one minority, it also emanated an underlying attitude of snobbishness and chauvinism towards other minorities at the same time, which made no sense to Y/N. Then again, it was the 1920s, so she guessed she couldn’t really ask for anything else from a rich white person at the time.

Having finally finished the book, Y/N asked someone nearby if they could watch her things while she took a dip. There was a blonde bloke around her age and another bloke with blue hair, sitting not too far off, and when she asked if they could keep an eye on her stuff, they promised they would.

Y/N took her time swimming, trying to remember the last time she’d been on a beach where the public were allowed. It was odd seeing so many around her, but she liked it. She liked the sound of others around her. Silence was good, but in the disturbance of human noise was the reassurance of rescue. The promise that you might be lonely, but you are never alone.

Walking back up to her picnic blanket, Y/N thanked the two men before lying back down, soaking up the sun. She hadn’t been aware she’d already been at the beach for a few hours until she realised her stomach was rumbling. So, packing her stuff together and making sure her hair was somewhat dry, she walked around to see if there were any places she could sit down. The only place on Porthminster Beach was the café with the same name, and by the looks of it, it was completely full. Since Bessie had served Y/N some breakfast, she must have something for lunch as well.

Walking back the 5 minute to the hotel, Bessie jumped up from her place in the back garden, sitting back there with two other ladies and knitting like they’d done the day before.

“Hello, dear, you had a good trip to the beach?”

Y/N couldn’t help but feel completely at ease in this old woman’s company. “Yes, I did. A bit hungry, though, do you have something I could eat, possibly?”

“Of course! What do you fancy?”

“Oh, a toastie’s fine.”

“Vegetarian?”

For some reason, the fact Bessie remembered Y/N’s preference from this morning made her smile. “Yes,” she said without thinking.

“Right, just sit down and I’ll come by with your lunch, my lovely.”

“Thank you so much, Bessie.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Y/N sat down, bringing her phone out as she hadn’t checked it properly in a few hours. She wasn’t sure what she expected, to be fair. There was no one from home who would want to contact her, and if they were to, they would rather look around Winchester than call. In their minds, she couldn’t have run far. Regardless, the mere fact they hadn’t even called her made something inside her sink a little. It felt awful knowing how little she meant to them all along. So little that they wouldn’t even pick up the phone and save her a call or a text.

“Here, my dear,” Bessie said, putting down a tray before Y/N. “I’m gonna pop outside to my little knitting club, if that’s fine by you. Just come on out if you don’t have anything else to do after this, yeah?”

“Thank you so much,” Y/N said and Bessie smiled at her before she disappeared outside again.

Turning her attention to her food, Y/N started thinking about what she could do the rest of the day. She could walk some more around town, she’d seen bigger parts of it yesterday, but there were always corners of a town that needed discovering. Once she was about halfway through her toastie, hasty footsteps sounded from the lobby and a somewhat familiar figure appeared. He stopped a bit on his way towards the reception desk, as if he didn’t want to be a bother to Bessie of some kind by asking for assistance. Bessie appeared a few seconds later, grinning from ear to ear as usual.

“Hello, Harry love.”

“Hi, Bess. I…” he stopped himself, running his hands up and down the sides of his white and grey striped cotton-blend trousers, a navy blue tee shirt tucked into it and a pair of white Vans on his feet. “I just wanted to come check again.”

“For the third time.”

“Yeah, well…” He did a quick shrug. “I just wanted to check.”

“She’s here.” Bessie gestured to Harry’s right and when he looked that way, his eyes immediately found Y/N’s. She didn’t think she’d ever see him again. However, a summer in a small coastal town would make that very hard. She’d try her hardest to stay out of Harry’s way, as well as his family’s, so she wouldn’t make things awkward. She would have escaped to a town a little further south or on the other side of Cornwall, but she was settled in now and she’d already paid for her whole stay.

Though she’d promised to keep away from him to prevent any unpleasant situations, Harry hadn’t made her the same promise. And here he was. For some reason. He seemed both taken off guard to see her sitting there as well as relieved he’d finally caught her. A sigh left him, slumping his tense shoulders a little before he thanked Bessie quickly and walked to Y/N.

“Is it,” he started as he made his way over. “Is it okay if I sit down?”

Y/N nodded her head while swallowing, gesturing with her hand at the chair opposite hers. “Yes, go ahead,” she said when her mouth was free to.

“Cheers.” Harry sat down, slid a little closer to the table and rested his hands between his legs as he leaned back against the back of the chair.

The two fell into silence for a little while, Y/N watching as Harry’s eyes fixed on the small bouquet of flowers in the tiny vase placed in the middle of the round table. Yes, she loved company, but Harry’s had taken her a little by surprise and she was eager to know why he’d come looking for her. She didn’t want to try and draw a conclusion herself without hearing his reasoning first, knowing that whatever she came up with wouldn’t be correct anyway. Instead, she put her toastie back on her plate and focused her attention on Harry, who had yet to say anything. From the way he was biting the inside of his lip, she assumed he was mulling over the right thing to say. It didn’t seem to ever come when finally, he opened his mouth.

“First, I just want to say sorry for yesterday,” he said, meeting her eyes, but quickly looking to her shoulder. “It was proper daft. I was desperate and I panicked, and you were right there.” He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry for putting you in that position.”

Y/N just gave him a smile. “You don’t have to apologise, I’m glad I could help.”

“And I appreciate you helping me out, I really do, but… here’s the thing…” He cleared his throat. “Jessa and Gracie are right about losing their minds of this.”

Y/N chuckled. “Oh?”

“Yeah, they called and texted all last night and this morning, saying how nice it was to meet you, that I need to bring you to Grace’s birthday next Saturday,” Harry said. “And it makes me wonder if it was even worth it yesterday. I still appreciate what you did, and this is all my fault, but I think…” He trailed off again, scratching at the back of his neck. “Look, I’m doing a naff job of explaining this.”

Sipping her juice, Y/N just smiled at him till she put her glass down. “Take your time.”

He took a deep breath. “Think I might tell them it’s all fake. I don’t have a partner and that’s fine.”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, being single is fine.”

“Only thing that’s stopping me is the fact that Jasmine will be crushed. Ever since my dad died, she’s been so worried about me living alone in the lighthouse.”

There was so much to unpack in that sentence that Y/N felt herself retract a little, scanning his face for what the appropriate reaction to that would be. Harry must’ve noticed her silence so he glanced at her face, eyes going wide.

“Oh! Don’t feel like you-“

“-I’m sorry about your dad.”

“No, that’s okay, he hasn’t been with us for two years now,” Harry went on. “That was a real mood killer. Bringing up my dead father with someone I barely know.”

Y/N smiled. “Think you fake breaking up with me was a great mood killer before that was even brought up.”

Harry smiled a little at that, those deep dimples just barely gracing his cheeks. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry.” She wiped at her mouth with the napkin, brows slowly coming into a frown. “You said something about a lighthouse… do you live there?”

“In the lighthouse?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I’m the lighthouse keeper.”

Her frown deepened a little.

“What?”

“I didn’t think those existed anymore.”

“What, lighthouses?” Harry’s smile widened, amusement tracing his pink lips.

“No, lighthouse keepers.”

He shrugged. “Here’s a living, breathing example of one.”

She couldn’t help her laughter. “Fine, I take it back. I don’t really think about lighthouses enough to give their keepers much of a thought either.”

“Too bad.”

Y/N just shook her head some, noticing a slight redness to Harry’s cheeks that hadn’t been there a few seconds earlier. “You were saying about Jessa.”

“She’s worried about me living alone in the lighthouse. Says I’ll be lonely and that she thinks about me sitting up there crying my eyes out or summat.”

“Do you? Cry your eyes out?”

“No, I like having my own space. I like living there alone. She’s just being a protective stepmum, looking out for me and all that. Like, yes, I’m still sad Dad is dead, but it wasn’t like he lived with me in the lighthouse anyway. He lived with Jasmine and Grace.”

Y/N nodded slowly. “She doesn’t want you to be alone ‘cause she thinks you don’t want to be.”

“Exactly,” Harry said, pausing a bit before mumbling something that sounded like, “That’s why I’ve told them for a few months now that I have a girlfriend.”

She narrowed her eyes some.

“To get them off my back, innit? I don’t want them to think I’m miserable, ‘cause I’m not. But when I told them I had a girlfriend, they got so happy, yeah? I just tried to be as vague as possible, didn’t give them a name and they didn’t ask, assuming I wanted to keep her secret. Jessa hasn’t bugged me about this in weeks… Until yesterday.”

Y/N started piecing everything together. “That’s why you stormed out of the restaurant.”

He nodded. “And ran into you.”

Y/N couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “The idea of just telling them I was your fake girlfriend just fell into your head once you saw me?”

Harry chuckled and shifted his gaze away from her, clearly embarrassed. “Yeah. I never do stuff like that. I hate uncertainty, so trusting you yesterday when I didn’t know if you’d play along… well, it took five years of my life.”

 She laughed. “If I hadn’t then the whole lie would’ve been obvious to Jessa and Grace.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, I’m glad I could help then,” Y/N said, really meaning it as well.

“Yeah, and thank you so much for doing so. It really helped me out… if you look away from Jasmine texting me five times today alone to organise a dinner with you and all of us.”

They both laughed a little at that and when Y/N glanced at Harry again, he was looking down at his hands in his lap. After a brief pause, he met her eyes again.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this, and thank you for helping me. I’ll tell them everything now, I don’t want you to have to hide while you’re here for two months.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

For the next few seconds, they looked at one another in silence. Y/N thought back to the moment she’d seen Harry, how it might’ve taken her a few seconds to catch on, but her main instinct had been to help him. She thought of the gratitude on Harry’s face when she played along, how she hoped he one day would find an actual girlfriend that would have just as big of an impact on Jessa and Grace as it seemed she herself had. She was about to tell Harry this when the sound of footsteps sounded from the lobby again.

A woman Bessie’s age walked in, a bag slung over her shoulder and sunglasses in her short black hair. As she stepped inside, she spotted Harry and Y/N sitting together and her mouth fell open, a grin coming to rest on her wrinkling face.

“Bessie, you didn’t tell me these two were going to be here,” the old woman said, walking into the dining area. Bessie stepped out from behind the wall that hid the reception desk from the dining hall. At that, Y/N’s stomach dropped. Bessie must’ve heard their entire conversation. By the look on Harry’s face, he was going through a similar near-death experience to the one Y/N was currently enduring.

“Hi, Mrs Rose,” Harry said, no one seemed to notice the slight tremor to his voice.

“Harry and his new girlfriend,” Mrs Rose said, looking between them. “You know, you lot are the talk of the town.”

“We are?” Harry asked, the surprise in his voice so evident it made the older women laugh.

“Yes, of course! Jasmine told everyone!” Mrs Rose continued, looking to Bessie who was already nodding her head.

“Not everyone, but she told her friends, and you know how people like to gossip around here, don’t you, Harry?” Bessie gave him a smile and Harry smiled back, though it did not reach his eyes. “Anyway, Florence, this is Y/N. Y/N, Florence.”

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Y/N said, grinning at Florence who stuck her hand out. The two shook hands as Florence beamed back at Y/N. “So, the whole town knows?”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case,” Florence said, turning to Bessie who made a noise of agreement. “Jessa can talk about everything and anything for hours, but if her stepson gets a girlfriend? That’s the news of the century and she will not shut up.”

“How lovely,” Y/N said, not really knowing what else was appropriate in this setting as Harry hadn’t opened his mouth once to say anything.

“It’s a little less lonesome up in that lighthouse now, hm?”

“Oh, uhm…” Harry looked at Y/N and then back at Florence, his words having completely escaped him. Y/N was about to come to Harry’s rescue when Bessie took them both by surprise.

“They stayed here tonight,” Bessie explained and Florence looked at her with a furrow between her brows.

“Why on earth would they do that? Harry’s got a perfectly nice place by the lighthouse.”

“Who are we to question the decisions of our youth?” Bessie linked arms with Florence. “Let’s go outside, Flo dear. Leave the lovebirds to be by themselves.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs Rose,” Y/N called after them.

“And you, Y/N!”

The second the two ladies were out of sight, Harry and Y/N shared a wide-eyed look, both of their panic equal it seemed. Y/N took a sip of her juice, somehow thinking it would calm her down. It did not.

“Jasmine told everyone,” Harry said, voice a whisper so no one walking by or sitting in the back garden would hear them. “She told everyone.”

“She can’t have… right?”

“You underestimate Jessa. If she was kidnapped and put in a gag, she’d be able to talk through it and move her jaw and teeth in a way that would obliterate said gag.” Harry ran a hand over his face. “She’s very chatty.”

“You’ve painted a vivid picture.”

Harry sighed, leg bouncing and eyes distant as he seemed to be racking his brain for a solution to the situation they were finding themselves in. “I was gonna tell Jessa it was a lie. I was gonna tell-“

“-You still can.”

“But everyone knows now. It’ll be well embarrassing for us when we have to tell people on the street that ‘oh yeah, that ol’ thing, we only pretended to be a couple so people wouldn’t be all up in Harry’s business,’ I somehow don’t see that going down well.”

“Then there’s only one thing we can do?”

“What’s that?”

“We pretend to be a couple.”

He stared at her, his facial expression very neutral, and though Y/N didn’t know him well enough yet, she did think she could decipher when he was displeased and when he was not. He seemed to be mulling it over, wanting for her to elaborate before he made a final decision.

“Everyone knows, I’m leaving in August, we can just say we broke up when August comes around.”

Harry nodded, thinking for a moment before he asked, “What will people say when they see us separated on the street then? Like, we’re not seen together.”

“People need to spend some time apart; it’s exhausting to be around another person 24/7.”

Harry nodded again, contemplating their predicament. “There’s always a lot of parties around here during summer. You don’t have to tag along, but you might have to if Jessa’s gonna be there.”

“I don’t mind,” Y/N admitted, shrugging her shoulders some. “I don’t have anything to do all summer, anyway. Might as well be in a fake relationship with a bloke I barely know and help him all I can.”

This made a breathy chuckle leave Harry’s lips and he held her gaze some before having it fall to his folded hands. “Well…” he said, suddenly reaching his hand across the table. “I’m Harry Edward Styles.”

Y/N laughed but took Harry’s hand, shaking it lightly. “Pleased to meet you, Harry. I’m Y/N Bernadette Angelica McKay.”

Harry whistled under his breath. “Mouthful.”

“What happens when you’re brought up in a posh family.”

Harry smiled at that and sat back in his chair. “I guess… I-I guess we should talk about how we got together and all that.”

“Yeah, make a story so it sounds more believable.”

“It’ll help if we have the same story, yes.”

She couldn’t help her laughter again, but it was cut short as Harry’s phone in his pocket started ringing. He sighed, taking it out and looking at it before putting it back down.

“Look, I gotta go.”

“Oh.” Y/N, having thought they were going to plan their fake dating history, blinked in confusion when Harry stood from his chair and looked at her apologetically. “We’ll see each other at some point.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, walking off toward the back garden, calling Bessie’s name as he did. They exchanged some words Y/N couldn’t hear and Harry disappeared into the kitchen for a minute before resurfacing again. Standing in the lobby, he looked at Y/N through the doorway leading into the dining area, mouth opening and closing as he tried to come up with something to say.

She just gave him a smile, hoping he understood that she just wanted him to take his time. It took one more sigh and a little staring contest before Harry finally found his words.

“You know where to find me, my house is the very tall, pointy one on the outskirts of town.”

She chuckled, watching as he walked out of the front door and down the street. Y/N found her bag, putting it on her shoulder as she got her lunch tray and sat it in the kitchen as she’d done after her breakfast that morning. On her way upstairs, Y/N turned as she reached the front door that was left open to welcome guests. Stepping into the doorway, she looked out over St Ives.

Seagulls were still screaming overhead, the sound of people down by the beach hung in the air all throughout the day, it smelled of seafood and summer, and just beyond the small town, on a tiny hilltop and on the very tip of a cliff, stood a lighthouse. A white lighthouse that rose high above the whole coast around it, protecting everyone. Locals, foreigners, and sailors. And it was operated and taken care of by the bloke Y/N was going to spend her entire summer in a fake relationship with. It didn’t seem real, and yet, that was exactly what it was. She didn’t have Harry’s number and knew next to nothing about him, but – as he put it – he lived in the very tall, pointy house on the outskirts of town. It was impossible to miss it. She could find her way to him, even in the dark.

The lighthouse keeper, Y/N thought to herself as she took in the lighthouse again through the window of her room once she walked upstairs. I have to pretend to be in love with a lighthouse keeper. And somehow, Y/N realised when looking back on that particular summer, that wasn’t the weirdest thing that would happen to her in St Ives.

NEXT UPDATE: Sunday, 2 August, 9PM GMT!

Huge thanks to my AMAZING beta readers! 🌊 @aileenacoustic​ 🌊 @bopbopstyles​ 🌊 @fromyourstrulyh​ 🌊 @harrys-creature 🌊 @honeydearly 🌊 @juliassgem​ 🌊 @summerfeelng​ 🌊 @sunflower--styles 🌊 @withallthelove-a​ 🌊

[wolvesandpetals]

Loki x Sylvie Playing House Part 3 (Humor, Romance), Rated T. Full on Sylki hijinks, as promised!

Masterlist of my Sylki fanfics here.

---

The first thing she does when Thor leaves is Google herself. Apparently, she was a child actor and made a fortune there, before transitioning into modelling, and later into a successful influencing career.

"That makes perfect sense to me", Loki comments. "If I was not a prince, I would have chosen to be an actor too. Just imagine, legions of fans screaming your name, begging for your attention for just one moment, hanging onto your every word, willing to worship the very ground you walk on. Now, that is the dream." He pauses, cherishing the image in his head. "There's also the money. Looks like you and I will never have to work a day in our lives. We can just live off your money."

[[MORE]]

Sylvie feels the muscles in her laws instinctively tense. This is not her life, or her reality. She can't imagine spending eternity here. She looks at Loki sternly. "We can not. We have to return to the TVA."

"Yes, of course." He agrees immediately. A part of him likes this life. But another part of him knows there is never a gain without a loss. The universe finds a way to make him pay for every bit of happiness he ever gets. Who knows what the price may be if he chooses to stay, with his family, and with Sylvie right here?

Sylvie sets down the laptop on the bedside table, ignoring the danger of Loki's glass being knocked over and drenching it. She cannot let herself be concerned with such simple things. Ignoring them is the surest way to covince herself she hates it here. "I was wondering, if Thor can get into this town, and if he remembers us leaving this town in the past, does it mean we are free to leave?"

Loki studies her features, the resolute glint in her eyes and the defiant stance of her chin. It is clear that she will stop at nothing to get back to the TVA. "We should test it out." He says, trying to sound as calm as possible. "Where do you wanna go?"

"Maybe we can go to Oklahoma? See my supposed parents?" She attempts to play it off like it's nothing, even though she knows exactly what it means- temptation. The urge to see what this life looks like is ever-growing.

"Why can't we go to Asgard and see my parents instead?" He counters immediately.

Sylvie purses her lips, trying not to reveal her emotions. She doesn't remember her Odin or Frigga at all. A part of her longs to meet this version of them, but another part wonders how overwhelming it would feel, watching Loki occupy her place, have her life, her "parents" in this timeline. "Fine. How about we pick a neutral location first?"

"Fine." He replies curtly.

"Fine!" Her irritation escalates. She grabs the laptop again, opening up a tab to a travel website, ready to book a flight.

"LA?" He suggests.

"You just want the paparazzi attention, don't you?" She points out, but doesn't resist. "Alright."

September 1st. The date is set. They will be off to LA within three days, and if whatever being that has placed them here does not want them to leave, they will know by then.

---

"Do you really need all of these sunglasses?" Sylvie asks, after Loki stashes the fifth one in his backpack.

"Of course, I do." He defends. "Style? Remember?"

"Travelling light, remember?" She hits back, taking out two random pairs and throwing them back on her dresser. "Just take what you absolutely need."

"I absolutely need my sunglasses." He says stubbornly.

She can either give in on this trivial matter, or she can dig her heels in and fight it out with him. A stupid pair of sunglasses is not worth the effort. "Fine." And in return, there's something that he has to compromise for her as well. "Only if you help me get my swords past security."

"With pleasure." He says with a grin, and with a wave of his hand, the newly arrived swords from eBay are magically cloaked.

Sylvie looks at her own luggage. She has never really owned anything. She jumped from one apocalypse to another, with only her life, and sometimes food supplies for a few days. It feels surreal to look at the clothes in her wardrobe now. The thought of carrying them with her feels even more foreign.

She looks at the tons of products on her dresser, skin creams, lotions, toners, cleansers and heaven knows what else. All the luxuries she never had.

All the luxuries she does not want.

"I'll just pack a change of clothes." She says finally.

"You don't want anything else?" He asks, surprised.

"These are just things, Loki." She explains. "They can be replaced. I have no attachment to them."

---

She regrets not booking first class. She has been on planes before, using crashing aircrafts as a temporary hideout spot to regroup when the TVA was on her tails. As a stowaway, she never realized just how annoying a plane journey can actually be.

Loki graciously offers her the window seat, noting her unease as soon as they board. She thanks him with a smile, and they nod in mutual understanding.

She stares out of the window, at the town that is supposedly her home, and for the first time ever, she feels a pang of homesickness for a place that is not Asgard. She has been here for just five days now, yet, the thought of sleeping in her own bed is so tempting.

Sylvie notices how she is thinking of the bed as her bed now, but tries not to dwell on it too much.

The plane takes off without incidence, and she dozes off quickly. When she wakes up, she notices a thin comforter wrapped around her shoulders. Turning to her side, she sees Loki sleeping as well, his mouth slightly agape. She snuggles close to him, suddenly needing the comfort of his warmth, and the woman on the aisle seat gives her a dirty look. There's a baby crying somewhere in the back, and what feels like the beginning of a massive headache. But all that fades away when she lays her head on his shoulder.

---

When the flight arrives at LAX, they are both a little scared to leave its comfort. They are about to find out if they are free to travel wherever they want, or whether the action had any consequence. Sylvie is the first to take a step out, and they are both relieved to see nothing happens. The baggage claim goes smoothly, though slowly, and they get a cab quickly. Sylvie hides her grin when she sees Loki put on his sunglasses.

"So we're here." He says, staring at Sylvie, while she stares out of the window.

She only hums in response.

"Is this your honeymoon?" The driver asks.

Loki laughs nervously. "No, no. We've been married for quite a long time. This is just... a vacation."

The driver recommends them a lot of tourist places. Sylvie tunes him out. This is just a test. She has no interest in touring LA. They have their return flight scheduled for the next day.

They check into their hotel room, and she plops down on the bed immediately. "It seems we are free to leave the town. Just not the reality, I suppose." She runs her hands over the silky sheets, amused. "I must say, whoever placed us here has taken every measure to make this prison comfortable."

Loki follows suit and takes a seat beside her. "I suppose that is indeed generous of him. Or her."

Sylvie turns to the side to look at him. "So how do we get out of here then? Got any plan?"

He shrugs. It's not like there's a book called What to do when you find yourself trapped in an alternate universe with your alternate self for Dummies. "Right now, the plan is to get some dinner, then some sleep. Then perhaps in the morning we can see a bit of LA?"

"You want to play tourist?" She asks in a neutral tone.

He replies in kind, testing the waters. "We are here already, and we have the time, so why not?"

"Okay." She replies, a little unsure, but not entirely opposed to the idea. The weariness of the journey starts taking its toll on her. She messages her temples with her fingertips. "Should we order room service?"

Loki contemplates for a moment. On the one hand, she looks really tired, and she could use a good night's sleep. On the other hand, she has been completely on edge and razor focused on the mission since they got in this mess. Well, since they met, actually, and probably for centuries before that. She could also use a bit of fun and relaxation.

With that in mind, he carefully voices his proposal. "I was thinking maybe we can go down to the restaurant and have a proper dinner."

Sylvie looks up, grinning mischievously. She's about to call his bluff. "What, like a date?" His deer-in-the-headlights reaction makes her laugh. "Calm down, I'm just teasing you."

---

It's not a date, but it kind of is. It's a four course meal and a fine bottle of champagne over candlelight, after all.

"Was it like this? Back at Asgard?" Sylvie wonders.

"Mostly. But Asgard was grand, elegant. This is..."

"A cheap replacement." She completes.

Loki smiles. "Precisely."

They talk about their Asgard bedrooms, the similarities and the differences between their safe haven in the palace. An hour passes swiftly.

"The wine is good." Sylvie comments, sipping on her first glass of wine, when the champagne is drained.

"Yes, quite good." Loki agrees, on his first glass as well.

The tiniest buzz starts to take root in him, and his mind wanders into the realm of possibilities, the future he can have, here and now. His eyes focus on the brighest object in front of him- Sylvie.

She feels her cheeks flush under his gaze. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You are just so..." He blinks. What is another word for Asgard's Sun when it disappears into the azure lakes? "Breathtaking"

Her lips curve into a shy smile. This is the beginning of the same foolishness he showed on the train in Lamentis-1 that almost got them killed. But right now, their life isn't in imminent danger. Right now, she is just amused. "Wow, you really can't hold your liquor, can you?"

"Of course I can. I am Loki, Prince of Asgard." He declares proudly.

"Yes, yes, I've heard the speech." She says it with a smile and an eye-roll. "We should get you upstairs."

He objects immediately. "But I'm not done yet."

"Oh, I think you're quite done." She beckons the nearest waiter. "Can we get the bill, please?"

He can still walk surprisingly well, but she holds his hand tightly, just in case he decides to take a detour, and drags him into the elevator.

"Blonde looks good on you." He comments out of the blue. "Maybe I should go blonde too."

She grins. "Like Thor?"

He glares at her. "You're a buzzkill."

---

Sylvie opens the door after fumbling with the keys for a minute. She is starting to feel the effect of the alcohol as well. She takes off her shoes and her earrings, while Loki runs to the loo.

"Why did you book a room for two?" He asks in a serious tone, leaning against the door-frame of the bathroom.

Sylvie freezes, her hand hanging mid-air for five uncomfortable seconds before she awkwardly drops it to her side.

Why did she book a room for two? She could have just rented separate rooms, or at least ones with separate beds. It's not like she and Loki are actually together.

But they have been. At least for the past few days. Why do they need separate rooms here when they share a bed back home?

Home. Sylvie realises with alarm that she's thinking of her prison as her home.

Is this reality starting to mess with her mind now?

"It's okay, I don't want to leave you either." Loki's voice pulls her out of her inner monologue. She turns around quickly in his direction. He's still drunk, and it shows, but he has a look on his face that she has never seen before- a mix of resolution and fondless. His eyes whisper silent vows of loyalty, and something else, something he can't quite express yet. "I will never leave you."

Sylvie smiles, closing the distance between them and standing next to him. Her hand finds his by sheer instinct. "Good to know."

"I mean it, Sylvie." He gives her hand a reassuring squeeze, before he tugs her along with him as he sits down on the bed, unable to stand any longer in his inebriated state. She is grateful to be seated too, and she's unsure whether it is just the alcohol. "I know you hate it here. But I like this." He indicates at her, then at himself, then back at her. "I like falling asleep next to you, and walking into the kitchen first thing every morning to see you cursing at the microwave. I like how you hum in the shower and scream at the TV."

Sylvie listens quietly, her eyes focused on the feeling of his hand in hers. She is trying to memorize this moment, burn the shape of his fingers and the feel of his touch into her brain, so that when it's gone- when he is gone- like everything in her life always is, she will have another good memory to relive again and again.

Loki continues. "I like the way you burn the pasta every time you try to cook."

"I don't burn the whole dish." She retorts playfully. "Just the bottom part."

He shakes his head to show he disagrees. "Can I tell you a secret?"

Her heartbeat quickens. Is he going to confess that he has feelings for her?

Does he have feelings for her?

"Sure." She barely whispers back.

Loki double-checks. "Promise me that you will never tell yourself?"

She laughs softly. "I promise."

Loki tenses, suddenly looking sober. He lets go of her hand, to rest his by his side, his fingers clenched into a fist. Mastering all his courage, he finally speaks. "I don't want to leave. Ever. I like it here."

Sylvie looks away, suddenly needing air. Hearing Loki say that makes her feel irrationally angry. He promised to be on her side every step of the way, but the minute he finds a life he likes, he's ready to throw in the towel.

A part of the anger stems from the fact that she knows, a major reason he wants to stay is her, this life he has with her. Two Lokis on any other timeline will cause Nexus events. But here, they are free to be together. Timelines don't start branching off like a growing vine on timelapse video every time they touch. And he wants that. She knows this because he has all but said it with his words and his actions.

And because she wants it too. Damn it, she wants it so much. She is getting sucked into this reality, indeed.

But she knows she has to finish what she started- she owes it to herself, and to the people out there who need her help, who will be robbed of their lives if she doesn't stop whoever is doing this.

She wants to-

- But she can't.

"Loki, I-" she stops when she turns around to see he has already fallen asleep. Wordlessly, she wraps the comforter over his sleeping form, before crawling under it herself. Turning to her side, facing away from him, she wonders what's next for them.

[starbuck09256]

Paperwork and coffee

Fictober day 13

After detour before chinga

tagging @today-in-fic

I look over the mountain of paperwork in front of me. For months I thought about how that was the one thing I wouldn’t miss when I was gone. Needless forms poor trees whose sacrifice was wasted on blue and black ink littering pages of information already on pages 6 and again on page 10 and one more time on page 15. I wonder how Mulder does it, somehow some way that man always has all the paperwork done and on time. Mulder is a lot of things but he isn’t careless about the x-files. He makes sure every single thing is properly filed in his mess of an office. Organized chaos, I sigh heavily wishing I had just let Mulder fill these out too. I bit my lip looking at the clock, it’s still early only 9 the fact that he isn’t here yet makes me wavier about going to get a coffee. Will this be any less painful with a soul full of foam and creamy espresso. My appetite has returned in more ways than one. I chide myself again for making a pass at Mulder. I need a vacation, a real one. I’ve always wanted to go to Maine in the fall, see the leaves scattering in the wind swirling around the colors of sunset. I could use a giant Lobster with melted butter in every crevasse. A convertible so I can breathe the sea into my body. I push the paperwork aside, boot up Mulders computer and start to look for a small bed and breakfast where you can see the shore through those craftsman style windows. I turn the radio on low as I click through each page. Check the obscene large vacation time I have. I think of Mulder having to be forced to take 5 days off, I remember the giant Elvis sunglasses he bought me and think of taking a picture with them on the trip. Maybe I even buy him one of those giant Lobster claws. I chuckle to myself and the door clicks. Mulder is smiling at me. 

“What’s funny?” he asks as he is balancing a coffee and donut bag in his hands.

 I get up to help him. It's the good coffee from the coffee shop 3 blocks over. I take a sip and Mulder places his cup on the desk with the bag he’s standing close and chewing his lip. We didn’t talk about the wine or the cheese, or singing a song in the middle of the night, or what it really means for us that I’m still here, waiting. I gesture with my hand, sigh and smile up at him. 

“I was thinking about those Elvis glasses you bought, and umm maybe going on vacation. After everything that I..well we went through I could use some sea air. I was thinking maybe Maine.” 

I look up at him and he stares at me and touches my hand on the desk. 

“I love Maine,” he whispers. He traces my fingers and then his hand is up brushing against my cheek. 

“You do?” my voice is breathy like it’s lost in the fog. 

He nods and his face is leaning down to mine. I’m transfixed in my spot with one hand on the desk as he closes the gap between us, and then his lips are on mine and his fingers slide back into my hair and his tongue sweeps into my mouth. I can’t help but whimper against him as my own hand goes up to pull him closer. He pushes against me his body is warm and while normally I would be relatively alarmed at being trapped between a man and the desk right now I’m desperate to be closer. My body aches for more and oxygen as he explores my mouth. He pulls away caresses my hair with his other hand. I bite my lip in confusion. What just happened? What does that mean? Why after all this time of all the chances was it here in the office with a coffee. 

“I’m sorry.” he says and I am trying to think of a thing he did wrong. 

“What? Why? Do you..” the lump in my throat is so large and I want to run. 

“I should have done that earlier, so much earlier. You came into my room with wine and cheese and this morning when I was brushing my teeth, I just haven’t been able to stop thinking about how much I wanted that...this. Uh…..us.” his voice waivers at the end. 

“I’m an idiot, Scully. I have no idea why you are still here with me or how you don’t know how much more you deserve but I’ll try to make it worth your while for as long as I can.. And I can start with taking you on vacation to Maine or wherever you want to go.” 

I can’t help grinning at him. I loop my arms around his neck, try to tilt up to his impossible height and kiss him deeply. His hands press into my back and I try to remember if kissing was always this good, and why I’ve gone so damn long without it. I realize of course that it’s because I waited so long for the one man I swore I wouldn’t kiss, swore I would not let him be a repeat of past transgressions. But now as my tongue lovingly strokes his and his hands roam up and down my back spreading warmth all over my body. I realize I was the bigger idiot for thinking that I could ever not fall for the one person who is my equal. When we pull apart this time both grinning and a little shy. I let my fingers travel up his shirt to the soft blue tie that I got him 2 christmases ago.

 “So umm..” he’s nervous and chuckles as I slide my hand up and down his chest. 

“When are you thinking we could go?” I look past him to the pile of paperwork that is figuratively looming over my ability to leave with Mulder in tow right now. 

I could leave now to pull Mulder into my apartment and not leave for a week. I tap my hand lightly on his chest and sigh. I want to leave now, I want to explore every single inch of him with my fingertips and I want his lips everywhere and the last thing I want is to smell his cologne and feel his eyes as I sit awkwardly in that chair dodging papercuts like the plague. I look at him with a still sadness that I can’t just tell him to lock the door. 

“I have so much paperwork…” 

I want to cry because he is stroking my wrist and chewing on his lip that has a slight smudge of my lipstick on it.  He looks over the pile, the pile that waits on my normal clean in box that surely would never have more than 20 papers at one time. He laughs and I want to hit him. That he would wait until the one time I would absolutely have to stay in the office before turning me into a reckless employee who would leave at 9:45 just because she desperately needs a tryst with her otherwise platonic partner. I want to slap him in the arm for laughing. But he has pulled my fingers to his mouth and is kissing them and sucking on them a bit and watching his tongue has me slightly transfixed. 

“Scully…” my name spilling off his lips as he leans down once more and offers me a quick peck which is the last thing I need before the daunting task in front of me. 

“Honey, I just have to file those, I already finished all the paperwork.” He laughs again and picks me up spinning me around in our much too small office. We wouldn’t be able to do this if we had another desk down here. But he starts to kiss me again and his lips travel down my neck finding all my sensitive spots far too quickly. 

“What?” I can barely mutter as my body hums in deep pleasure. His hands find the top of my shoulder and he gives them a squeeze. 

“I did all of that already, even your parts. You’ve been sick for months, working when you could barely stand, I figured the least I could do was your half of the paperwork, you  are so very stubborn so I took over almost all of your stuff months ago. You already finished your version of the reports right?” I nod I had at least kept up on our case reports and my 3-4 page megar reports that certainly didn’t contain the dramatic prowess they once endured. Mulder picks up the phone and is already talking to Skinner. 

“Hi  I think Scully and I should take some vacation time after everything with Blevins and that seminar.  We have no new cases worth following up on so I would like to put in an immediate request for myself.” he looks at me holding up a 1 or a two. 

My lips fall apart, oh my god. Two full weeks with just him and I and his mouth and I can’t even control my own fingers as they hold up two. The grin I get from him could light up space. He passes me the phone. 

“Hi sir, yea just with my recent recovery I think it might be a good idea for me to take advantage of some time as well as things to settle here.” 

I can’t believe I’m doing this, that we are doing this. Mulder is already locking filing cabinets and eagerly shuffling the paperwork that I thought would be my nemesis. He is leaning over and clicking on some website I had up and pulling out his wallet. I forget sometimes how he can be when he has a mission, uncompromising, unyielding oh god. I will most likely be his mission later. I feel the flush in my chest as he takes another sip of coffee and hands me mine. I sip and it’s perfect, subtly sweet but clearly he has heard me say that I’m still cutting back on the sugar, but it’s creamy with a nick of cinnamon at the end. The sip calms me down and allows me to focus on finishing the rest of the conversation which is just that Skinner has no problem approving what we need since Belvins is dead and he has better shit to do than babysitting Mulder over the next two weeks anyway. I nod and find Mulder tapping his foot at our printer looking anxiously. He grabs the papers off the printer and drapes his jacket over his arm grabbing the bag of pastries and putting in his mouth.  

“Thanks sir,” he mutters into the phone and grabs my hand eagerly with the one free one he has left. I grab my coffee as he throws my coat at me pulling our office door and ushering me out. 

“We can slow down you know.” 

But god we have been going at glacier speed for years and truthfully if I had more coffee in me I probably would have bound up the stairs faster and already be tapping my foot while he fumbles for the keys. 

“Do you want me to go slow at first Scully?” He says he is already halfway up the stairway leaning down towards me. 

“How slow?” and his voice has dropped an octave I’m now on the step above him. 

He cups my cheek and kisses me so painfully slow I realize now I should have just locked the door downstairs so that the anticipation wouldn’t kill me. I shallow hard as his lips leave mine. “I’m driving.” I mutter taking the last three steps quickly and grinning at him from the parking garage door.

 “We gonna get a convertible Scully?” I already am halfway to my car with the keys ready to bring us and the car to life. 

[oftenderweapons]

Where, when and how - maknae line

Pairing: maknae line member x reader 

Wordcount: 1.0k words

Genre: smut, fluff, (Taehyung’s contains a fair bit of angst)

Rating: 18+

Hello lovelies! Since quarantine is separating many lovers all around the world I thought about how the boys would handle being away from their girlfriend. It’s obviously smutty. Every piece is about 1000 words each.

Trigger warning: swearing; smut, hinted and sometimes pretty descriptive, really it depends. LOADS OF SEX TOYS (it was supposed to be a sex-toy themed thingy because yay!self-love and yes, you can use them together with your significant other too), some mild bdsm here and there, praise kink (you know where it comes from), swearing and alcohol (nothing extreme, just tipsy), masturbation and that should be pretty much everything. Also, nipple piercing? Tae is frustrated, Jimin is the bratties brat to ever brat (takes one to know one LOL) and Koo is a switch (and by switch I mean he’s shy but nasty, and I still don’t know what’s his trigger).

You can find the hyung line here

Pssst--- here is my masterlist---

Jimin

You loved listening to Jimin, especially when he came home in the evening and told you about his day. You loved chitchatting while preparing dinner, you loved having his head on your lap, his fingers intertwined with yours, your free hand caressing his scalp and handcombing his hair. You loved his tenderness, his voice growing sleepy as it got late. You loved climbing in bed and feeling his hand snake around your waist from behind you, naturally and innocently palming your breast as he fell asleep.

You were listening to his voice through the speakers of your phone, video calling each other as you made dinner and he had a brunch together with the boys in Paris. Last night it had been their last concert of the European Tour and soon they would be heading back to Seoul, even though their schedule included a couple weeks in the US before actually returning to their motherland. He wasn’t yet allowed to tell you their plans but supposedly they had to meet a coreographer and visit a couple studios.

It was extraordinarily hilarious to watch him talk as he filled his mouth with continental breakfast, sickeningly sweet apple juice and pain brioche and bacon endlessly flowing around him. Every now and then he interrupted himself to reply to the boys, who sometimes appeared behind him, sleepy, a bit groggy and absolutely exhausted. Suga was propped on his elbows against the countertop, his eyes closing again as he waited for coffee, Namjoon, with a disgusted expression hugged the sugar bowl to his chest and poured a worrying amount of sweetener in his oversized cup of coffee. JK, his shirt sweaty, was drinking a smoothie after his morning workout. Taehyung was nowhere to be seen, but knowing him, he was probably still sleeping.

“Jin hyung yesterday had a flimsy shirt. I think we have never seen that much skin of him! It was so windy!!!” Jimin said, imitating the shirt lifting, his teasing voice all out while his eyes disappeared in a big smile.

You had held on pretty fairly for the whole tour, always taking twenty minutes to have a chat almost every day. You had visited him mid-tour in New York for a couple days, but otherwise you had endured the distance with a tight-lipped smile.

But right now you felt your heart chipping slightly, tears coming to your eyes. You promptly swiped them away.

Jimin, always so attuned to your emotions, noticed it right away. “Baby, are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s the onions!” You smiled and quickly went back to your cooking. But he knew. Seventeen more days until he could see you again. And hold you. And lose himself in you again. He wasn’t bold enough for steamy video calls like Tae. And it’s not like those could provide the kind of emotional support that made him crave for intimacy and reassured him after it. But still, he wanted you to know.

So that night, after making his suitcase, he entered a website he had been tiptoeing around for a while and started exploring, sometimes with shame tinting his cheeks, sometimes with curiosity capturing his stare, sometimes with desire warming his loins. After a thorough analysis of every single category, he checked the basket and proceeded to shipping and payment.

A couple days later you awoke to pictures flooding your twitter feed, your beautiful boyfriend and his six band mates walking out of the LAX airport, Jimin wearing a flowing, quite see-through sky blue shirt embroidered in lilies, his delirious ballerina legs clad in his usual skinny black jeans. Blonde and gracious, lips pouty and pink, sunglasses on, he waved at the crowd and disappeared inside a grey van with a flirty grin. You barely held in a moan. And the long time without any kind of intimacy was most definitely getting to your head. Your fingers toyed with the edge of your panties, almost ready to give up on your intention of waiting for Jimin to come back and get you wild. But right in that moment your doorbell rang and you quickly donned a robe to answer the door. As you saw the delivery boy from the security cam, your first thought was that you had not ordered anything and out of suspicion you properly got dressed. But when he got to your apartment’s door he mentioned the name of the sender and everything made sense, though you hadn’t quite expected a surprise. You thanked him and got inside, package in hand, straight to the kitchen where you grabbed a knife and tore the seal. It was quite heavy and big, and the tag name was not recognisable. With increased curiosity, you opened the lid and saw a small envelope. It had been typed but it seemed to be signed under Jimin’s safe name, Your angel fairy.

“There are things you promised me and things I promised you for when I come back. But there is just one thing we both promised to each other for eternity. And that is Love. Every single object in here is only aimed at that. For a loving heartfelt and gentle as a cherry. For a loving playful and childlike like tickles. For a loving sparkling like twin falling stars. For a loving loyal and enthralling like chains of gold. For a loving sturdy and stinging as wood and leather. For a loving precious like a gem. And finally for a loving eternal as the darkness of the night. To my beloved,

From your angel fairy.”

He had really splurged on this.

You bit your lip in anticipation and tried to guess who was who. Because for those seven types of loving there were seven corresponding items. The first one had to be the massage candles. You once had told him you wanted to try and massage him with those and probably cherries were his fragrance of choice.

The second must have been the tickler, the delicate white feathers perfectly matching Jimin’s personality and taste. Twin falling stars was a bit trickier but at the bottom of the box you found a smaller elegant box containing a delicate chain with two star-shaped, sparkly nipple clamps, which you absolutely adored.

The chains of gold must have been the fine jewellery harness designed to wrap around your neck, snake down between your breasts and loosely hang around your waist in multiple strings.

The wood and leather must have been the double sided paddle, one softened with some padding and leather, the other nothing but unforgiving hardwood. A corner of your mind went back to that time he had brought your large wooden hair-brush on top of your bed and asked you if you wanted to try it on him, you remembered how you had curled a hand around his cheek, comforting and reassuring him, praising him, showing that there was nothing to be ashamed or afraid of. The bright red colour of his behind the morning after, your worried expression and his face hiding in your neck when he told you not to worry because he had enjoyed every second of it.

That loving, precious like a gem, could be nothing but the buttplug, which you had confessed you wanted to try on yourself during your last escapade in New York. You looked forward to that.

And finally the darkness of the night - the blindfold. Black and silken.

“A little bird told me you received a package... How do you like it?” There it was, Jimin’s text. You couldn’t wait for that little brat to come back home.

Taehyung

Brazil was beautiful. A beautiful hot mess. He felt sweat in his every nook and cranny, the humidity sticking to his skin even though it was almost midnight. As he got out of the shower he looked at himself in the mirror. He still felt messy.

He also felt like calling you. Right then and there.

He felt like being at home and walking in your shared room naked and getting head from you. With the windows open and some night breeze flowing in.

“Thinking about you.” He simply texted.

“Just out of a meeting. Can’t wait to head home.” You replied. “But I still have a lot to do.”

“I miss you in my bed.”

“Do you, now?” You were half walking half texting, waiting to get your lunch.

“I need you to get rid of some steam...”

“Tonight, promise.” As your order was ready, you quickly proceeded to eat.

Taehyung didn’t reply. He was tired and you were busy.

He collapsed in bed shortly after putting down his phone.

His sleep was troubled, he woke up tangled in the sheets, his leg thrown over a mountain of pillows and his hips were agonisingly pressing against the humid white cotton. Again, he felt sweaty. And turned on. He felt compressed. Like a clown inside a box that jumps out when you open it. He wondered what it would take for his box to be opened.

When he woke up he saw your “good morning” text, replied quickly before rinsing his face and hitting the gym in the hotel. He overworked himself in hope it could get the thought of you out of his head. Instead, every exercise had him thinking about new ways to fuck you, a stronger, healthier body meaning nothing but much more force and more experimental and effective angles. Jungkook and Jimin obviously noticed, while Namjoon and Jin kept obliviously running on the treadmill.

“You think he’s angry?” Asked Jungkook.

“Just repressed. We should tell the girls to warn his girlfriend. Maybe we should have her come meet him.”

“The trip is long and she’s gonna be jet-lagged out of her mind. Let’s just tell the girls and have the two of them figure it out.”

Jungkook told his girlfriend through text: “Can you tell Tae’s girlfriend to call him? He’s getting sour.”

“Told her. She said she on it. Luv you. Later.” Jungkook blushed thinking about his plans for later that night and then moved on with his exercises.

Taehyung kept bench pressing like he wanted to lift the whole world with his two bare shouders.

At around four pm, his phone far away from him to keep him from doing something stupid, Taehyung was stage rehearsing, his voice rougher and angrier than ever, his whole body craving for release and intimacy. At this point Yoongi too had noticed, giving a small side glance to Jimin, who shook his shoulders in hopelessness.

As he grew more and more insufferable, Namjoon saw it was almost six pm and called for a break, immediately nearing Taehyung and taking him aside for a while.

“What’s wrong.” Namjoon didn’t approach the matter softly.

Taehyung took a pause. Namjoon was almost tempted to call Jimin. Maybe he knew how to deal with this. Maybe he was too rough, too direct or too logical rather than emotional, he could —

“I miss her, hyung.” Taehyung said. Namjoon exhaled heavily. He knew how that felt. “I miss her and we call each other every day, we text, but it’s so bad. I miss everything about her. I thought it was a crush and that it would be easy. After all we’ve been dating for a couple months and...” Namjoon waited, his eyes fixed on Tae. “But I think I’m in love. It’s like, here.” He pressed his fist between his ribs and his stomach. “And I’m so tense, all the time. At night it’s even worse. I haven’t been sleeping much.”

Namjoon waited as if to let him speak, but apparently he was done. “Do you want to call her? Take the rest of the day off and we go on without you?”

“She’s sleeping right now. Fucking time zones. And if I call her, it will get worse.”

Namjoon knew. The wanting, the longing. It just intensifies.

Namjoon checked his phone. “Okay. Rehearsal’s almost over anyways. You just need to survive a couple more songs, then we’re gonna take a night just the seven of us, yeah?”

Taehyung nodded.

“Also, schedule a video call. We’ll be in London in four days and time difference will be easier.” He patted his shoulder. “And please, get laid. Or you can take it out on the stage tomorrow. Army will go feral if they see you like this.”

Taehyung chuckled.

“Do we have anything scheduled tomorrow morning?”

“Concert tomorrow night so no schedule until 11. Jin, JK and I are hitting the gym at nine, if you wanna join.”

“We‘ll see.” Tae smiled. He felt better.

Rehearsal ended up okay after that, Taehyung in a more playful mood. As soon as he got to his phone he saw one of your texts, he was tempted opening it right away, but he waited when he saw it was a lengthy voice note.

He arrived in his hotel room and hit the shower straight away. He was supposed to meet the others in half an hour, and he knew if he laid down and listened to your text he would get distracted and call you. As he got out of the shower he got dressed and sat on the bed, his phone tempting him. Damn it. He opened the text.

“Taehyung-“ A heavy breath. “I’ve been missing you.” Your voice was soft and delicate, almost sleepy. “It’s five am and I can’t sleep.” A raspy moan followed and he had to rewind the text and turn up the volume. Moan confirmed. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Your hands on me, everywhere. The way you kissed me before you left.” This time the moaning was clearer and louder. “Every time I touch myself I feel like my fingers aren’t long or strong enough compared to yours.” Tae felt that comment in his bones. He would be late to dinner anyway. From his phone you emitted a small whimper. “Good, the way you went down on me. I’ve tried toys that could possibly substitute you as long as you’re away but no toy could ever look at me like you did that night, with your mouth latched on my clit and your hand grasping my thighs.” He could almost taste you. God, that night had been indecent to say the least. “I can’t wait to have you back. I’m gonna have you laid out in bed, spread wide on top of the sheets and I’m gonna ride you until I can‘t even remember how much I missed you.”

Now Taehyung moaned himself. He texted you. It was nine am in Seoul, that meant you were at work, that meant you’d be worked up all day long.

“I’m free tomorrow morning. That is tonight, to you. I wanna see that nasty shit you’ve been up to with my wanna-be substitute. Maybe if you’re good enough I’m gonna send you a little something too. But you’ll have to earn it.”

He was already going to send you a golden necklace with a vibrating pendant anyway.

Jungkook

He didn’t let himself think about you much. Just ten minutes in the shower. Sometimes eight were enough, it just depended on how turned on he was. Even though your trip to Australia was making things difficult, you still managed to see each other every day or so. Sometimes you just had dinner with a screen in front of each other, chatting about your day. Sometimes you called after dinner, a glass of wine, some laughter, the boys coming in every now and then to say hi and ask how you were doing. Other times it was strictly the two of you, your soft voice reassuring him as he confessed how he was feeling. This distance had seriously improved your communication, especially since there was no way to use body language to express feelings and emotions. You reminded him daily that you love him, always telling him before you closed the call. He told you daily about what was going on and how he felt about it. He really hoped you would keep being so talkative when you came back. Most importantly, he hoped you would keep praising him. Sometimes he did exactly what you wanted so that you would praise him. He realised that the more he expressed how he felt, the more loving and praising you grew.

Your stay in Australia was supposed to last a little more than five weeks. Three weeks had gone by quickly, always busy with paperwork or work appointments. However, lately you had started missing Jungkook a little bit too severely. You knew he was shy and you would never press him into doing anything he didn’t hint at you. So when one night, after a glass of wine too many, he started talking about how much he missed your body, you replied encouragingly, leading him on.

“What do you miss about it?”

“You know. Waking up beside you. Feeling you next to me early in the morning.”

“I miss that too. Starting the day without you in the shower is difficult,” you teased, pushing it a little.

He blushed a little. “Do you miss that too?”

“I miss all of that. Do you?” You filled your glass once more. Maybe it would help you loosen up a little.

“You know I do.” He mirrored your gesture and took a sip.

“It feels good when you say it,” you answered, undoing a button of your blouse.

“I miss your body a lot. Even though I don’t usually think about it. It gets worse,” he said, eyes were glued to your fingers.

“I’m happy that you told me. It makes me feel like I’m not alone in this.”

“You are not alone. But I wish I was there.” He was going to evaporate.

You took a deep breath.

“What would you do if you were here?”

“Kiss you. Straight away. I’d hold you so tight I’d almost suffocate you.” He didn’t hesitate one second before answering your question. But then he took a long pause. “I would pick you up, wrap your legs around my waist. Lay you down on the bed. Kiss you harder.”

You licked your lips. “Have you been hitting the gym more often lately?”

He was a little bit confused by your question but he nodded.

“It shows. You look stronger. Makes me wonder how good it will be when we do it again.”

His mouth hung open. “I—“

“Use your words, sweetie.”

His situation got even worse as he blushed for the nickname. And then his whole demeanour did a 180. “Forget the bed. I think I’m gonna slam you against the wall. You’d be wearing a skirt and it would be so easy to slip inside you.”

You worded the next sentence carefully. If you pushed it too much, he would emotionally ball up like a hedgehog and shut you out. “Would you have me against the wall?”

“Fuck you standing? Yes, babe.” He pressed his tongue against his cheek, then clenched his jaw. His hand was laying on his thigh, slipping slowly to his crotch. Nothing you were going to notice since his camera was on his face and part of his chest.

“But you know I’m heavy, right?”

“You’re not that heavy. I can pick you up if I want to. And lately you’ve been looking thinner. I hope you’re eating. I love feeling you up,” he purred.

“I’ve been working out too. I have to get you out of my head.”

“What do you need to get out of your head?”

“All the things I want from you.” You needed him to push you a little.

“What do you want?”

“I want you inside me.”

“Yeah, and? Come on, babe, use your words.” His smile was borderline sadistic as he used your own words against you.

“Messy, sweaty. I don’t care if it hurts. I want you to fuck me so hard I’ll be feeling it for days afterwards.”

He moaned a little at that. How tight you would feel around him... He realised it was the right moment to tell you. “I got us something.”

“What?”

“It’s supposed to arrive by the time you’re here.”

“Really? What is it?”

He took a deep breath and then he started spitting out words at an alarming rate.

“The other day at the gym there was this couple doing something like couple yoga or something, and she was hanging from a hammock of sort and I couldn’t help but think about how intimate it was and how much I wanted to do that with you and I got us a swing.”

“You what?” You brought the glass to your lips again. Smiling.

“I got us a swing.”

“What kind of swing, baby?”

“That kind of swing. I saw it in a... video, sometime ago, and I remembered it and I wanna use it with you. If you want to, I mean, we don’t have to—” He babbled adorably.

“What if I want to?”

He inhaled and took a sip of wine.

“I can’t wait to use it with you. I keep imagining the sound of you slamming against me. I’ll moan for you so loud and lovely that everyone will know you’re loving me nice and good. You’re amazing, Koo.”

He basked in your compliment. “Come back home soon. Otherwise I’ll have to come and get you. Cuff you to my own wrist and bring you back to my side, where you belong.”

“Can’t wait to put my hands on you. My mouth,” you murmured, one more button coming undone.

“You can’t right now, but if you take off your shirt maybe you might convince me to take the first plane to Sydney.” 

His hand had already undone his belt and he was almost going to undo the button of his jeans when you said, “do you think I could convince you if I told you I’m not wearing a bra right now?”

He looked shocked. “You should show me.”

You quickly undid your blouse and let it hang open. That’s when he noticed something glittering.

“Is it...”

“I thought I could use the time away to get it done, so it can properly heal.”

Right there, on your right nipple you let the small piercing show.

“You’re so getting fucked when you come back. First I’ll get my tongue on that and you know exactly where it’s gonna go next.”

You grinned devilishly. “Good, because it’s all I’ve been thinking of.”

[fangirlxwritesx67]

My Turn

Sam x Rowena, 3000 words Fluffy self-indulgent fluff, kissing, and implied sexytimes. 

This is the first in my Take Me Away collection of fun vacations and escapes. It is also my entry for @wi-deangirl77 and her That’s Some Supernatural Schitt 1.2k follower’s celebration. I took prompt 3:“It's my turn to take a selfish." David Rose

*** Sometimes, thought Rowena, she just needed to take a turn being selfish. She did so much for others, all of the time. Everyone relied on her and it was exhausting. Okay, maybe she didn’t do so much for others. Maybe she helped out only reluctantly, and usually with ulterior motives. But it was still exhausting.  Especially when it came to helping the Winchesters. Again with the Winchesters, perpetually the Winchesters! With Sam and Dean, it was always, “Rowena we need you.” “Rowena please help.” “Rowena can you-? Rowena will you-?” Dragging her exquisite ass all over, at the most inconvenient times. The most recent case she worked with them had really been the last straw. She had gone on the road with them and had to spend almost a week in a disgustingly run down hotel. The worn furnishings, the lack of amenities, the positively garish decor. She shuddered just thinking about it. Neither Sam nor Dean seemed to mind, but it was insulting to a woman of her refined taste.  She needed a break, to get away from the Winchesters, to do something for herself. And she just knew how to do that. A spa weekend, every treat and treatment she wanted, a retreat into luxury and pampering. One of the perks of living as long as she had? A little magic and a lot of time had turned some early investments into a small fortune. She could afford whatever she wanted, and she wanted only the best. 

There was a hotel nearby where she had been before, more than once. She pulled up the website. Her favorite room was still available, the corner suite with the king sized bed and the glassed in shower. But it looked like they had redesigned the website a little, and the room was now called the “Honeymoon Suite.” She pursed her lips. As if a woman had to be married to enjoy a nice hotel room. She would take the suite without the honeymoon, or the husband, thank you very much.

All alone in front of her computer, Rowena felt herself blush. She was a strong independent woman who had no problem treating herself to the best of everything. But to her surprise, she discovered another person in the perfect fantasy weekend that she was building in her mind. 

That person? Sam Winchester. 

The tall hunter had caught her eye from the very beginning. He was smart, he was handsome, he was considerate. They had been partners, first. They spent hours in the library, poring over books and planning for spells. She put in the effort, earning his trust, flirting with him. But it took an outright approach of seduction to get him into her bed. The steamy encounters they had shared over the past few months made it clear to her that she had made the right choice.

Sam was a delightful part of her life, but only a part. She was long overdue for treating herself. She squared her shoulders and booked the room, the spa, everything. She didn’t need Sam to approve or to accompany her. She told herself she wouldn’t miss him, at all. 

She shopped on Amazon for a new bikini, new pajamas of the softest grey silk, and also a negligee set, because anything could happen. It’s not like she and Sam had ever agreed to be exclusive. Might as well get sunglasses, a hat, new lipstick while she was at it. By the time the weekend rolled around, her suitcases were bursting with new things, from comfortable to sexy, all colorful and soft. 

She hired a driver to take her to the hotel on a Thursday. She could drive of course, but why? It seemed an unnecessary bother. Especially when the towncar service always sent such cute drivers. 

The staff at the hotel fell all over themselves to help her. It seemed that a few of them remembered her exacting demands but generosity with tips. She settled into her room, changing into leggings and a soft tunic before heading down to dinner. The chef specialized in local, seasonal, farm to table meals. The portions were small but the flavor was exquisite, and every dish was perfectly paired with wine. 

Dining alone wasn’t uncomfortable for her. She was used to it, and it gave her an opportunity to indulge in one of her favorite hobbies: people watching. 

Tonight, her gaze was drawn to a pair of men. It was a shame that they were clearly a couple, because both of them were good-looking. The cuter one was telling his partner something, earnestly. Most of the words were just out of hearing, although she did catch the name David. The dark haired one interrupted to say, a little more loudly, “But, Patrick, it’s my turn to take a selfish.” 

Rowena smirked into her glass of wine. My turn to take a selfish, indeed. She liked that. It suited her plans for the weekend. 

Friday morning, Rowena slept in. She ordered tea and a chocolate croissant from room service before heading to her spa appointment. She had booked a hot stone massage, followed by a manicure and pedicure. Her body was relaxed, her fingers and toes shiny, as she changed into one of her new bikinis.

She headed to the pool and slathered on sunscreen before settling in with her wide brim hat and designer sunglasses. At her age, she couldn’t afford sun damage. She ordered a cocktail and opened a new paperback book. She spent hours reading, basking, occasionally dipping in the pool, enjoying the looks that she drew. 

But as the sun sank down towards the horizon, Rowena realized she was bored. No, more than bored. She was lonely. A spa weekend, time out to treat herself, was one of her favorite things. But now, she wanted more. 

It was an unfamiliar feeling for her. She was proud of being independent, secure on her own and comfortable with treating herself. Her spa weekends had always been a solo escape. But if she was being honest, and admitting what she wanted, she missed Sam. She wished he was there. For the first time, maybe ever, she wondered if a weekend away might be better if it was a weekend together. 

All that night, Rowena tossed and turned. Her king sized luxury bed should’ve guaranteed the best possible night of sleep. But it felt suddenly too large, and lonely. 

There was something about the hours between 3am and dawn that had always made her feel especially vulnerable. In the dark, she could express herself with just a little less embarrassment. Finally, she gave in to her feelings. She picked up her cell phone and texted Sam, just the address of the hotel. He texted back almost immediately, full of questions, eager for information. She answered him just as quickly.

We don’t need Dean. Come alone. Not a ghost or a vampire. I’ll explain more when you get here.

Then she rolled over and slipped off to sleep. When she woke up, she smiled, knowing that soon she would really truly have the thing she wanted most. She had just sat down to breakfast in her room when a familiar hand knocked on the door. She opened it, and stood aside as Sam Winchester rushed into the room. He looked around, his eyes taking in everything, bristling for a fight. “Where is it, Rowena? What am I hunting?” 

“No, Sam. You’re not hunting, not at all.” 

She took his hand and pulled him close. Once the door was closed, she leaned into his arms, lifting her lips for a kiss. He was caring, concerned, wrapping her in a strong embrace. Still, his gaze roamed the space, looking for a threat. 

“If I’m not hunting, what do you need?” 

“Samuel,” she purred. “My dear boy. Everything isn’t always a fight.”

“It’s not? Then why am I here?” He shook his head, tossing his dark hair.

“You’re here for us.” She slid one hand up his chest to rest at the base of his neck, tugging his gaze down to hers. She put on that pouty look that she knew he could never resist, and batted her eyelashes most convincingly.

“Us?” He dipped his head to brush a kiss to her lips but still looked baffled. 

“Us, yes, you’re here for you and me. Because I miss you! I planned the perfect weekend but it just wasn't any fun without you. Sometimes, just sometimes, you have to do a selfish and treat yourself.”

Sam sputtered out a protest, which Rowena silenced with a finger on his lips. 

“Maybe it’s not about you. Maybe it’s about me.” She looked at him beseechingly, eyes wide. “I want you here, with me. Give me this.” 

He lowered his mouth again and kissed her more deeply. It was impossible to tell who was giving, who was taking. Both of them just enjoyed one another, in the moment. 

Finally, Sam pulled away, reluctantly. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling. He cupped Rowena’s face tenderly in one big hand. “Okay, Ro. For you. If you want this, I’m in.”

The confused expression returned to his face as his eyes roamed the room, this time not scanning for monsters, but actually taking in the luxurious surroundings. “I’m in, but what is this?”

Rowena laughed with delight. “It’s a spa, Samuel! You know, get some pampering and self-care. I was going to start the day with a massage. Would you rather have hot stone or sea salt scrub”

Sam turned out to be a surprisingly agreeable spa partner. He seemed to enjoy first choosing, and then receiving, a massage. He also went along with a clay facemask, although he drew the line at anyone messing with his hair. 

When they returned to the dining area of her - no, their- suite for lunch, he was perfectly comfortable wearing nothing but the hotel robe. Rowena enjoyed watching him in a rare moment of leisure. He enthusiastically dug into a fresh kale salad with almond slivers, parmesan and dried fruit. He was savoring it all: the food, the spa, the whole experience. 

He almost seemed, could she say, relaxed? He was more talkative, less tense, his gestures broader and his smiles more frequent. It was a whole different side of Sam that she had never experienced, one that she loved to see. It did her heart good to see him happy. 

After lunch, Rowena dragged him to the pool. Sam had left the bunker thinking he was going on a hunt, so of course he had not packed swim shorts. All the trunks in the hotel gift shop were European style, short and tight. Sam fussed about how much of his legs were showing as he turned in front of a mirror in the bedroom.

Rowena silenced him with a hand on the curve of his ass. “I think this shows off just enough of you.” 

He swept her up for a laughing kiss and then struck a sassy sarcastic pose. “Oh, I can show off more.” She giggled and batted at him playfully as she handed him her pool bag. 

By the pool, they found the perfect spot together, one chair in the shade for Rowena and one in the sun for Sam. They took their time applying sunscreen to one another, hands lingering over shoulders and waists and curves. Finally, they settled side by side in their lounge chairs. Rowena sipped a fruity cocktail while Sam enjoyed a pitcher of cucumber mint water. 

She looked up across the pool to see the couple from dinner the night before.  One of them was perfectly chill and relaxed, while the other was fussing with his hat, towel, magazines and a fruity umbrella drink. He lowered his sunglasses just enough to meet Rowena’s gaze. They nodded, two divas acknowledging one another. 

Across the pool, the two men started to kiss. Rowena turned to Sam. His long legs were splayed across the chair, his attention already deep in a book. She smiled to herself. That was her Sam. Just having him here, not even talking, made all the difference for her. She laid back and closed her eyes. 

The sun was sinking towards the horizon when Sam shook Rowena awake. “Come on,” he murmured softly, “Don’t we have plans for dinner?” 

She rolled her eyes and sighed a little more dramatically than necessary. But eventually she yielded, sitting up and taking the glass of ice water he was holding out to her.

 Rowena was warm and drowsy from the sun, so she let Sam take her hand to guide her back into the hotel. A cool shower helped her wake up, especially when he pulled back the curtain and offered to rinse her back. She stepped out into a soft towel he was holding. He grabbed a tube of lotion, and patted generous handfuls all over her sun warmed skin. 

He jumped in and out of the shower while she combed her hair. She tossed it this way and that, unsatisfied with her unruly red curls. He was wearing dark jeans, damp clinging to his shoulders and chest, when he came up behind her. He rested his chin softly on her head and she looked at him in the mirror. 

“Do you think I can - braid your hair?” 

Rowena acquiesced. His big hands handled her mop of curls with a surprisingly skilled touch, at once gentle and unyielding.  Over and over, as he worked through her hair, his gaze met hers in the mirror. His hazel eyes sparkled with joy. She would never admit it, but his caring touch, so patient, was better than any spa treatment she could’ve booked. 

With her hair sorted, she slipped into a dark sleeveless dress with a handkerchief hem. It was comfortable, floaty and cool. Sam buttoned up a shirt that was solid black for once, not plaid. He held out his arm and escorted her downstairs to dinner. 

Rowena was fine dining alone, perfectly comfortable. But dining with a tall handsome man was better. Once again, the pair from last night was seated nearby. This time, the darker man looked Sam up and down before catching her eye. “Good for you,” he mouthed.

She smirked indulgently before turning her full attention to Sam, and to dinner. The hotel restaurant already had a perfect seasonal selection prepared. They both perused the menu at length, but ultimately, she let him take the lead on ordering. He was careful, considered, ordering for the two of them so that they got to taste the most of the menu. 

They ate and drank, they talked and laughed. Sam relaxed in a way that Rowena had never before seen. She got a glimpse of who he might’ve been like if he wasn’t a hunter, if he ever got to treat himself. She had called him for entirely selfish reasons, because she wanted him here. But she could see, now, how much he needed it too. This weekend was turning out to be an escape for both of them. 

When the waiter came around with dessert, Rowena was very interested. But Sam asked, “Can we get this as room service? With espresso? Maybe in, two hours or so.” 

He turned and flashed Rowena that irresistible dimpled smile. She smiled softly at him. As soon as the waiter answered, Sam stood up, holding out one hand. Rowena slipped her fingers into his and followed him willingly back up to the room. 

The door had barely clicked closed before Sam had her pressed back against it, kissing her deep and seeking. His lips never left hers as he lifted her in his arms. She helped him ease off her dress as he set her down on the bed, settling her back against the pillows. He left his shirt and jeans on the floor before he stretched out alongside her. She rolled towards him but he held her back gently, one hand on her shoulder. 

“Rowena.” His voice was deep and gentle. “What is this? What are we doing? Why am I here?”

To her surprise, she had to swallow hard before she could answer. “I used to think my ideal weekend was just me, treating myself, you know? I’m an independent woman and I don’t need anyone else’s approval or company to enjoy myself. Although, sometimes I do enjoy certain company.”

Sam raised his eyebrows and she smirked before continuing. “I realized that I couldn’t have a perfect weekend anymore without you. I want you here, not just for the cases and not just for the stolen moments. I want you.” 

“Oh, Ro, I-”

“No, I’m not done.” She shushed him with a glossy nail on his lips. “I don’t know what to call this thing that we’re doing. But it matters, we matter. And whatever happens, I want you by my side.”

“Rowena.” Deep dimples popped in Sam’s face as he smiled, but his eyes were soft. “Are you trying to tell me you love me?”

“I, no, I don’t know-” for once Rowena found herself at a loss for words. 

“I know. I love you too.” Sam took her face in one big hand before kissing her, softly at first and then more fervently. It was the last thing he said for a very long time, as he showed her exactly how and why he loved her. 

They fit together so well, pleasured one another so perfectly. Rowena, in the fleeting moments where she was able to think, found herself wondering why she had ever thought she could have a perfect weekend without this, without Sam. 

More than anything, she needed to be seen, to be known. Sam understood her, and in return, she opened up parts of her heart that had been locked away for centuries. She felt safe enough with him to just be herself, no pretense or agenda. He deserved that, and so did she.

Wrapped in Sam’s strong arms, Rowena could truly enjoy and let herself go. And she did, over and over. 

She was naked, sweating, satisfied more than once, when a knock sounded on the door. Sam rolled out of bed reluctantly, dragging a blanket around his waist. He answered and returned with pastries and coffee. Rowena pointed to the bedside table and he set them down before flopping across the bed again. She climbed on top of him, covering his face with kisses. 

“Don’t you want dessert?” He murmured.

“No, just you.” she answered. “It’s my turn, and I’m treating myself to you.” *** Thanks to @there-must-be-a-lock for the beta read and encouraging me to find the emotional heart of my story. *** SPN First Last and Always: @boondoctorwho @dawnie1988 @deanwanddamons @defenderrosetyler @divadinag @emoryhemsworth @fookinghelljensensthighs @idreamofplaid @kalesrebellion @kickingitwithkirk @maddiepants @magssteenkamp @onethirstyunicorn   @there-must-be-a-lock @tloveswriting Sam Girl For Life: @awesomesusiebstuff @lilsylvia @winchesterxfamilybusiness Rowena My Queen:  @delightfullykrispypeach @lilsylvia @marril96 @pansexualdarling @songofthecagedmoose​ Gay Screaming: @boondoctorwho​, @cracksinthewalls​, @fookinghelljensensthighs​ @itmighthavebeenintentional​, @justcallmeasmodeus​, @lastactiontricia​ @mskathywriteswords​, @rockhoochie​, @there-must-be-a-lock​, @thoughtslikeaminefield​

[lovemesomesurveys]

Do you put effort into getting tan during the summer? No. It happens if I go to the beach because I spend hours out there, but I don’t go for that reason. That’s the only time I spend long enough outside for that happen. It’s a nice bonus.

Have any summer homework? No, I’m not in school.

Are you a fairly self-motivated person? Motivation who?

What’s your favorite book series? My current faves are by the authors Willow Rose, AJ Rivers, and Mary Stone.

What’s your favorite thing to do if you’re out on a lake? I don’t ever do that, but it does sound nice.  

What type of food do you know how to cook? The only thing I cook is ramen and things I can easily make in the microwave or oven. Do you make your passwords so tricky to remember that you forget them? No.

Cautious or reckless driver? I don’t drive.

What’s a subject you’re sick of people debating about? Hmm.

Are you one to take naps? Yes.

What’s something you wish they’d build in your neighborhood? *shrug*

What’s your favorite website, excluding social networking sites? Google? ha. All I use are social media sites.

What hair product do you use the most? Shampoo and detangling spray is all I use.

Do you usually keep ponytail holders around your wrist? No.

Sunny D or orange juice? I hate OJ, but I actually loved Sunny D as a kid. Sunny D isn’t actual orange juice, though. Kinda like how I like chocolate Yoo-Hoo, but not chocolate milk. I like the fake stuff apparently, ha.

What’s your favorite food to get at a carnival? I just love the fried delicious foods.

Do you actually use e-mail? Yeah. I don’t send any, though.

Can you snap out of a bad mood fast? Nooo, definitely not. I feel the wave of emotions coming on and once it starts there’s nothing I can do to stop it and I drown in it. It completely takes over and ends when it decides to and it likes to stay around for awhile. It also happens daily and more than once. Although, nowadays I feel like I’m just always in a bad mood.      

Holding any grudges? No.

What do you order to drink when you go out to eat? Soda or coffee.

How can a person tell if you’re mad or annoyed? I think you can see it in my face. <<< That’s one of my giveaways, too. And if I’m quiet (though that can mean nothing or it can mean other things as well), and my tone and body language for sure.

What’s your favorite energy drink? Starbucks Doubleshots.

Have you ever ingested caffeine in the name of getting homework done? In high scholol and the early days of college when caffeine really did something for me. 

Are you good at coming up with gift ideas for others? Depends on the person.

Do you have a pair of jeans with holes in them? No.

Where’s your favorite purse from? Boxlunch. The brand is Loungefly.

What about your sunglasses? I don’t wear sunglasses.

Do you keep lint rollers around the house? Yeah.

What’s something you enjoy that’s outside your age level? Watching some shows from my childhood and younger days.

Is your curfew flexible, if you have one? At 31 I don’t have a curfew, but actually never had one. I didn’t go anywhere so there was no need to even set one. I’ve always been such a homebody.

Regardless, when is the latest you have come home from a night out? When I was a college I had some late nights with friends that went on until like maybe 2 or 3 at the latest, but it wasn’t often. I did like the late night Taco Bell runs, though. Ha.

Do you have a weak stomach? Yes. Are you usually the person comforting, or the person being comforted? The comforter.

Do you actually use the camera on your phone? Yeah.

Tennis shoes or flats? Tennis shoes/sneakers.

Are you a good planner or do you settle for spontaneity? I’m a planner.

What do you do to pass the time when you’re a passenger on a long car journey? Listen to music, talk, sleep. I wish I could read, but I get motion sickness.

When your friends come and hang out at your house, what do you get up to? --

Does it annoy you when surveys ask questions about controversial topics, or do you like arguing your point? I avoid those questions.

How often would you say you updated your Facebook status? Not often at all. 

Do you think there’s a specific age when it’s no longer acceptable to be living with your parents? Who am I to say, I’m almost 32 and still do.

Girls - if you got pregnant now, would you keep it? Guys - what would your reaction be if your girlfriend fell pregnant? I can’t get pregnant and I don’t want kids.

Do you think it’s ignorant for people to have unprotected sex when they’re not ready for a child? Yes.

Are there any specific piercings you would never, ever get done? Most piercings. <<< I don’t have plans to get any, honestly, but yeah there’s definitely some I never would.

What’s your favourite non-animated Disney film? I couldn’t possibly choose.

It’s pouring with rain and you don’t have anywhere you need to be - how do you spend your day? Just like every day. <<< Yeah, I don’t do anything different but I do love rainy days. We don’t get many of them, sadly.

How often do your family go out for meals? We get takeout a lot. I do at least once a day to be honest. My DoorDash past orders list is quite long, ha. We haven’t all been out to eat together in over a year. I did go out to eat at a restaurant for the first time last month with my mom and aunt, though, and have gone a couple times since then with my mom.

Assuming you had sufficient funds, would you be capable of living alone, paying bills and looking after yourself properly? No. It is best for me that I still live at home given my situation. It’s what I want and feel comfortable with, I have no desire to live on my own.

What were your favourite things to do as a child? I was obSESSED with Barbies.

Are you happy to spend time being single, or are you one of those people who jumps from relationship to relationship? I’m honestly fine with being single. 

If you were shopping with your best friend, and they picked an outfit that was completely unflattering, would you tell them? Ahh. I wouldn’t know how to go about that. I had a friend who had to try everything on and ask my opinion and I really didn’t like it. I tried to shift it back to them and be like, “what do you think? Is it comfortable?” lol or something like that. If I wasn’t asked then I very likely wouldn’t say anything. If they like it, then I’m like hey do what you want.

Do you find it easy to open up to people about your past? I don’t find it easy to open up in general.

If you’re out in the middle of nowhere and need the toilet, do you try and hold it in or just go behind a bush somewhere? Thankfully I don’t ever find myself out in the middle of nowhere.

Do you prefer using air-con or having the windows down when you’re driving on a hot day? AC for sure. Having the windows down is just having hot air blowing on me.

Can you ever manage to finish three courses when you go out to eat at restaurants? Noo, definitely not. I rarely am able to finish my meal as it is.

What would you say your favourite farm animal is? Horses are pretty awesome. They’re so beautiful and majestic.

How do you react when someone you’re friends with has a bad attitude? I’ll have some thoughts in my head, ha, but I didn’t really do anything. 

Is it easy to embarrass you, or are you one of those people who just plays things off? I'm very easily embarrassed, but I try to play it off.

Are you comfortable going shopping or to the movies with your parents? Yeah, I do that all the time with my mom.

Do you have a favourite movie soundtrack? Not particularly.

[dopescotlandwarrior]

The Dancer-Epilogue

                        Special thanks to @statell​ for your help and wisdom

Previous chapters on AO3

Epilogue

Jamie spent every evening with Claire and Brian, enjoying family dinners, outings as the weather warmed up, and he held Claire in his arms before he went home. Try as he might, his upbringing prevented him from sleeping with Claire, at least to Brian’s knowledge, before they were married. Most nights they would make passionate love while Brian slept and came close to being caught only once in the first three months.

Several deals were struck after the fateful day at the bookstore. Those included a timeout for discussing what had come to pass during their separation. A date was set like a business meeting eight weeks in the future. On that day they met at the bookstore and shut themselves away from the world until all the facts had been heard and all questions answered.

Jamie started with the events after Claire left his home, heartbroken, and drove back to Edinburgh. He described his despair at seeing the photos of Jenny’s beating, arriving at the hospital in such a state he was tased, handcuffed, and arrested, twice. He was kept in jail for three days each time. The third time he went to the hospital he remained calm and learned she had been moved to an undisclosed place. He spoke about disinheriting his sister and having no contact before or after her trial. She was still in prison but would have a parole hearing in the coming year that he would not participate in. Lallybroch was boarded up and Jenny’s animals sold. She would live there upon her release unless she violated the rules of the court.

Jamie was promoted to Germany, as he expected and functioned at a low level for two years trying to find his joy again. On a trip to Edinburgh, he met Geneva Dunsany. After a long-distance relationship, she demanded marriage or else. He just felt dead inside. A letter was given to John at the Edinburgh store to be forwarded to Jamie. John could only say the pretty woman had red hair. The letter stated that Geneva was one of the drunk friends who participated in death threats against Claire the night of the beating, showing her support for Jenny. Geneva was put on the next flight to Edinburgh and never seen again.

Just before he lost his mind completely, he resigned his position that he had worked so hard for, endured so many lonely years for.

“I hired a private detective to find ye but ye just vanished. I knew ye were alive, somewhere, because I would feel the difference in the world if ye were not. I bought a used bookstore, renamed it and put the classics room in first thing so I could see yer name on the outside and the inside every day. I thought ye might come back to London someday and wanted to put the stores everywhere so ye would see one and go inside. It felt like ye were workin with me, seein yer name every day. It made me feel better. I brought John back to London and put him in charge of the new stores once they were up and running. So, now I am CEO of a growin chain of upscale used bookstores because of you. On yer birthday, every year, I spent the day in the classics room, my Sassenach’s heart, and I read until the store closed, always with..." Jamie's head dropped and he took a deep breath, "a fresh bouquet in yer honor love.”

Claire sat on his lap and hugged him, hearing his tears for his heartbroken existence.

“Thank you, Jamie.”

They kissed for a bit and Jamie held her arms panting. “It’s yer turn lass.”

Claire explained she was in Egypt before she knew what was happening. Her friends Madu and Kamilah were from wealthy families in Cairo and Jadda, Madu’s father, arranged everything. Madu later told her the surgeon that removed her spleen told him about the pregnancy, but they expected she would lose the baby. In Cairo, she didn’t eat or awaken for many months so she was fed by a stomach tube. Madu forced her to listen and wake up, telling her about the baby that had continued to grow while she slept month after month. She explained the painful journey back to the living and how Madu’s family was always there to encourage her. Jaddati, Madu’s mother, started calling her abnataya, the Egyptian word for daughter. When Brian was born the whole family was eager to care for him and his Jadda and Jaddati fell in love with him, as did Madu.

“It was a special time for me, being held into a family because I never had one. Madu, Brian, and I were inseparable. I tried so hard to love him romantically and my failure to do so was as painful for me as it was for him. Without warning, Madu dropped to the floor one night when an aneurysm ruptured. He was dead before anyone could reach for a phone to call emergency. He was my best friend, my savior, and my family. I miss him every day."

Jamie lifted Claire to her feet and pulled her into his lap where he held her while she cried for her amazing friend. He realized Brian was too young to remember, but he knew all about Madu and felt sadness at his passing.

“Yer an incredible person Sassenach. Madu will live on in Brian’s heart because ye shared yer memory of this special man.”

Claire sat down in her chair again, ready to continue. She told Jamie about Geillis and how devoted to each other they had been. How they cried when Claire called after two years and were now besties again with regular visits to London.

”The house we live in was arranged by Jadda, I think he bought it so we would have a decent place to live. Right after we moved in I couldn’t find Brian and I panicked until I opened the front door and there he was, standing near the curb of our street. He told me Habbi, told him to stand there and wait for me. Habbi is Madu. I had Brian baptized when we returned to London, Geillis is his Godmother and Madu his spirit Godfather. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I canna think of two better people in the entire world love.”

“It’s your turn,” she whispered.

Jamie realized that Claire was spent emotionally. He led her to his office and turned out the lights before pulling her into his arms to lay next to him on the couch. She could hear his Gaelic speech through his chest and found great comfort there.

They hugged in silence for a while until Jamie gave her every reason to change course and draw that line between them again.

“Sassenach, love, will ye marry me?”

Claire’s head lifted abruptly to look at him and her mouth slowly smiled as he watched the answer play across her face.

“C’mon lass, dinna say no to yer soulmate," he teased. "I figure you will be my partner in the bookstores and bring yer magic to the enterprise. We can open a new store each year and Brian will see the world living short term in each location. When he starts school, we take off for cities near and far in the summer, like a three-month vacation every year. Do ye know anythin about a website?”

“Whoa Sassenach, tears? Dinna break my heart love.”

“I have a new job at the cultural center, one Sunday each month, we dance exhibition and I am the lead belly dancer. It’s in Madu’s memory I want to dance Jamie. How do you feel about that?”

She watched his eyes and saw him go into his head, still smiling, she waited and worried. When he looked at her several minutes later his skin had a rosy glow and his eyes sparkled.

“This means I get to keep both of ye Sassenach.”

“I suppose it does” she giggled.

************************** “Ma'am?”

Claire pushed her sunglasses up her nose and handed Geillis her drink. She thanked the waiter and handed him a tip before laying back on her lounge. The girls were treated to a spa day compliments of Jamie and it was a slice of heaven for both of them.

“Mmm, what a fantastic buzz and a beautiful spa. Remind me to thank Jamie. What is up with your weird drinks Claire? That looks like bubbles in water for Christ's sake.”

“It is club soda, on the rocks. Why you ask? Because I can’t have alcohol for the next year. I’ll have to give up belly dancing before long also.”

Geillis rolled her head toward Claire and pulled her sunglasses down. “What?”

Geillis’s eyes grew wide and she sat up looking at her best friend. “Are ye sayin ye got a bairn in there again?”

“Almost positive. That’s what happens when the love of your life shows up and you’re not on birth control. Please, not a word at home. I am telling Jamie tonight right after Brian goes to bed and before he goes home of course.”

“Thank heavens he can stay at yer house after tomorrow.”

Claire was on pins and needles through dinner while Geillis chatted on and on with Jamie and Brian. She needed to calm down and excused herself from dinner. Sitting alone on her bed, she remembered a sadness so deep and a country so foreign, it stole her reason to live. Now her life was so full of blessings it was hard to feel connected to that person anymore.

When Jamie came in, he pulled her into his arms and just hugged her.

“What is it, love? Are ye havin second thoughts?”

She shook her head and pulled him down to the bed to lay next to her. They could hear Brian and Geillis laughing in the kitchen and felt no need to rush.

Jamie watched her face, waiting. He felt his heart rate shoot up as her eyes locked on his.

“The three of us won’t be going to Florida next month. We are actually a family of four now.”

She pulled his hand to her abdomen as the tears were squeezing out the side of her eyes. She watched Jamie’s face go from confused to enlightened and his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he tried to swallow.

“Is there …a bairn… comin …lass?” His voice was a croaked whisper like he was afraid to say it out loud.

Claire nodded her head and Jamie exhaled the breath he was holding as his smile grew. He kissed her long and hard followed by dozens of kisses on her face with I love you’s in between until Claire was panting for breath and laughing.

Jamie kissed his bride after a civil ceremony with Geillis standing for Claire and Brian standing as Jamie’s best man. He pressed his forehead against hers and felt she had gifted him with a second chance at life. He was so grateful for her strength to survive, her heart to forgive, and the joy they made together.

Five hundred and thirty-five miles north a prisoner held court while her underlings brought her food and cigarettes. Jenny smiled at her hard-won position in the unit and daydreamed about returning home after so many years.

But that is another story.

It is my privilege to write for this fandom. I love you guys for the encouraging comments and for reading.

[sulfurousdreamscapes]

Twenty minutes before I went to heaven, I was listening to music from the Italian film Discoteca del purgatorio ("Dancing Like Hell", 1968, Colour). Old music YouTube is generally a wholesome place to be, so I scrolled down to read what people thought of it.

Of course they'd be fawning all over how they connected to the film. Of course they'd be mentioning emotional anecdotes (probably made-up) about how the films of Luca Carlozzi impacted their lives. I'd written a few of those myself, back in the day.

Now it's true I've seen many movies in my life. It's kind of a requirement, when you're aspiring to be a filmmaker. Luca Carlozzi, however, was on a different level entirely. His movies were obscure and hard to find, but they spoke to me, not just through their stories and dialogue, but through their sheer imagery, through the camera movement, the blocking, the editing, even the props he used. I mean, I have a replica of the striped shirt worn by Valentino Bergamo in I giovani americani ("Oh, Those Poor Young Americans!", 1969, Colour).

I was thinking of an anecdote to add to this video's comments, but I decided to read what was already there first.

"Who else is here after they heard about Carlozzi? What an absolute legend he was."

29 upvotes. 2 weeks ago.

The music separated from itself like an amoeba and I stopped following its rhythm while I frantically slid my finger across the touchpad and bombarded the keyboard. I misspelled Carlozzi, but sure enough, there it was - mostly on Italian websites and niche film blogs.

I sat there, staring through the laptop screen until it went black. I got up from my seat and walked with the wall for support (just like Zaira Vial in Il coltello chiamato amore ("Blood on the Wedding Dress", 1973, Colour)). With every step I took, I felt my the life I knew get ripped away from my hands, like a newborn baby from its crying mother.

"I can't begin my career until I've met Signore Carlozzi myself," I had told the people who knew me. "Without his blessing, without his personal attention—I will never make films that amount to anything."

I imagined Carlozzi's funeral. I imagined his coffin being lowered (top-down shot, slow zoom out). I could be on a flight to Milan right now, and all I'd get to see is his gravestone. He wouldn't place his hand on me. He wouldn't struggle to pronounce my name. He wouldn't tell me I have a bright future in filmmaking ahead of me.

While my parents snored in their bed, I walked past their room like a zombie and to the little shrine we had in the house. I fell to my knees (it hurt more than I thought it would), and I slapped my hands together in prayer.

"I've never believed in you," I said, my voice low and guttural. "Not once. But this time, you will take me to where you've taken Luca Carlozzi."

The incense smoke wafted into my nostrils, and the dim red light made the shrine look positively sinister. I clenched my eyes shut again. "Please!"

And this time, I heard a voice. I felt like I was being lifted up by two pairs of strong, muscled arms, right from where I had been kneeling. No, that was actually happening. Two burly, bearded men where forcing me to stand, and the camera suddenly zoomed into a close-up on the cigar-smoking, white-suited Saul Fasciano, as he swivelled in his chair and crossed his legs with a grin for years.

"You wanted to meet me, yes? Now you are here, but you will never leave this place." Saul threw his head back and laughed as the music blared in alarm.

"Sorry," I replied, unable to stop smiling. "I wasn't looking to move here."

And just like that, I shifted my weight according to a technique I had learned in Japan, and one of the burly men was flying into the other. The two collapsed into a pile, and Fasciano stood up and golf-clapped. The subtitles under his face were yellow and rough-edged. "What a shame. You could have made a good couple... seeing as I already have Nicole!"

The camera panned to a glimmering curtain, which was suddenly parted to reveal Zaira Vial in a torn, revealing dress, with a tape across her mumbling mouth and palpable fear in her eyes.

"Nicole!" I screamed, even as the white-suited mob boss laughed (no closed captions).

An animated wipe of the screen took me to the streets of Rome, where Valentino Bergamo was leaning against his striped sportscar, his face impassive beneath the sunglasses and hat. "Took you long enough," he said. "Miss Crawford."

I blushed, and I let him hold the fingers of my hand. "Please, Alessio," I said, moving my shoulders for sex appeal. "I told you to call me Faith. Just Faith."

He lifted my fingers to his lips and kissed them so softly, it was like they'd been touched by petals. "Just Faith," he said. "What else do I need?"

Another wipe transition. I stood amidst a row of men, all of us wearing nothing but our underwear. A grey-uniformed German officer (played by an older Eliana Lico) berated us in bad German, whipping one of the American prisoners at random.

I'd even seen this one, and I knew exactly what was going to happen (it was one of Carlozzi's seven pornographic films). It was painful, erotic, and thoroughly skeezy. Nevertheless, it was directed by Carlozzi, which meant that there was a certain genius behind it all.

Just as the most painful (and most erotic) scene was coming on, I heard Carlozzi.

"Cut!" he announced.

Crew members materialised on the scene as Eliana put on a towel and walked off the scene. I stood there, hairy and exposed as Carlozzi walked up to me and put a hand on my shoulder. He was shorter than me, and he was wearing glasses under his hat.

"You're not doing it the way I want you to do it, Guido," he said. There were no subtitles, but I understood every word he was saying.

"I'm sorry, signore," I said, almost desperate to lower myself in front of his greatness. "I will do exactly as you tell me to. Working with you has been my dream, signore, I can't tell you how much—"

He shook his head and laughed. "You're doing great," he said. "Keep doing what you're doing. Remember, making a good movie is more important than realising your dream."

He patted my shoulder and returned to his chair as we prepared for another take.

[quillomens]

Fic: The Cottage, the Godson

Slightly bittersweet fluff from my sinfully fluffy Cottage series that gets scribbled in notebooks when I have four free minutes or in ten minute bursts between commission chapters.  Read it here on Ao3

Harriet Downing stood outside the tiny bookshop in Alfistron Village with an air of uncertainty. The windows were filled with books, mostly lovingly used paperbacks, and beautiful potted plants were arranged artfully outside the door.  The only thing that made it stand out among the shops of the picturesque square was the carefully handwritten sign in the window that read “Large Snake in Residence.” Which was…a bit ominous.

“You’re sure this is it?” she asked, turning to look fondly at her son.  Warlock had shot up recently, and he seemed to be made of an unnecessary number of elbows and knees, but the sight of him made her heart ache in a gentle echo of the first time she’d ever seen him, thirteen years and a few precious months before.  

Warlock looked up. “Yeah.  They said it’d be the one with the snake and the wings.”  He pointed up at the wooden sign.  The shop didn’t appear to have a name, just as it somehow hadn’t been listed on the village website.  He grinned, a flash of boyish joy that was far too rare these days. “This is the place!”   He rushed forward with unaccustomed enthusiasm and all but kicked open the door, calling out as he did the names of two people he loved as a bell jangled merrily over his head.

It hurt, though it shouldn’t.  More people to love Warlock was good, she was blessed their old gardener and nanny had kept in touch after their retirement.  But, oh, where were the rolling eyes and the hunched shoulders and suspicious looks he turned on her all day?

Harriet sighed and straightened up.  Warlock was a teenager going through a difficult time, and she was the primary caregiver (and therefore primary target) in his life.  He’d work through it!

She hoped.

She stepped into the little shop just in time to see Warlock throw his arms around the chest of a tall, thin redhead who could only be Nanny Ashtoreth – if Nanny had been more given to tailored slacks and expensive looking silk blouses rather than tailored suits.  And most unfamiliar – Harriet had often chattered with Ashtoreth, but she’d never seen the wide, bright, smile that lit up the sharp features, disarmingly charming. She looked so much more happy than the Ashtoreth Harriet knew.

But the sunglasses were there, and the red hair curled into the familiar 1940s design.  

“Much too tall,” she was saying to Warlock in her careful burr.  “You’ve nearly caught up to Francis.”

“Is he here?” Warlock asked eagerly.  “I knew you two had run away together  Nobody would listen!  Said Francis was out of your league!”

Harriet hid a laugh behind her hand.  She could still remember his serious face two years earlier, his claim that the homely gardener and the fierce nanny were “really in love no matter what Nanny says” and had run off to elope.  No one had taken him seriously until the letters started coming.  He didn’t share them with anyone, save the first few with Harriet so she wouldn’t worry (he could be a sweet boy), but it had been clear from the beginning that, though writing separately, each wrote so freely of the other that they must be close.

Ashtoreth looked almost – was that – shy?!  Harriet had never imagined such a thing!  She’d expected a sharp quip about just how far out of her league Francis was.  Instead she looked like, were she any other woman, she would have been blushing.  “He went to get some things for tea, my dear. He’ll be back in a moment.”  She lifted her head then and her smile turned polite instead of startling as she said, “Good afternoon, Ms. Dowling.  Did your trip go well?”

“Yes, no problems.” Harriet smiled back.  They’d gotten on well enough, during Ashtoreth’s years working for the Dowlings.  She came across as severe, but she had always been scrupulously fair (if rather odd) in her treatment of Warlock, and there had been a few times when Harriet had seen under the serious exterior to a sharp and witty sense of humor underneath.  “It’s…it’s terribly kind of you to invite us.”  

That was an understatement, all things considered.  They had agreed, at Warlock’s urging, to let him stay with them in their cottage near the ocean for a full week while Harriet dealt with paperwork and lawyers and her own aching heart.  

Ashtoreth looked a bit uncomfortable at that, and she opened and closed her mouth as if not knowing quite what to say, but the jingle of the bell saved her from answering.  A man with familiar white-blond hair came bustling through the door with a basket in his hands.  “Oh dear,” he said in an odd voice before it fell into the more familiar broad accent, “I did hope I’d beat you back.”

Harriet blinked. She rubbed an eye.  She looked again.  

“Brother Francis?” she asked, confused, even as Warlock said, “You weren’t kidding he looks different!” to Ashtoreth.  

Francis smiled at her beatifically.  Gone were the yellowed teeth and the fluffy sideburns and the strange smock.  Instead he wore a comfortable cabled jumper in pale blue and tailored trousers.  Only the scuffed shoes and mess of short curls were the same.  

“Of course, dear,” Ashtoreth said blithely.  “If we were to be seen in public together, there had to be certain improvements.”  

Francis shot her a mildly reproachful look but she just smiled that sharp smile at him as he set his basket on the table in the open room.  “Good afternoon, Ms. Dowling!  And our young lad!”

Warlock walked forward, hand out for a polite shake, only to squawk as the plump man pulled him into a hug that looked like a solid 15 on a 1-10 hug scale.  Harriet didn’t remember him being particularly physically affectionate.  “Aye, it’s good to see you, young Warlock!  You’ve been rememberin’ all I taught ya?”

“Most of it,” Warlock said, and Harriet didn’t miss the way he briefly went still, just as he did in her arms, before pulling away to maintain appearances.  “And Nanny too.”  

“Give me two shakes of a lamb’s tail to unpack,” Francis said cheerfully, “and we’ll have a lovely tea. Do you have any luggage?”

Warlock rebooted for a moment before squawking and rushing outside to get the bags he’d left on the cobblestones out front.  Francis chuckled and moved – somehow still bustling – through a door and into a small kitchenette.  The shop didn’t seem large enough for a kitchenette from the outside, but she was no architect.  

It felt so warm here.  So cozy.

Loved, she thought, and felt tears press at her eyes. She wanted a home that felt this way. She’d never had it.  And here Ashtoreth and Francis had managed it in their little bookshop.  Their home must be downright perfect.

She met Ashtoreth’s glasses and said, softly, “Thank you,” while Warlock couldn’t hear.  “It’s been so difficult-”

“Life often is,” Ashtoreth said sharply.  The door jangled but seemed to be stuck – Harriet could hear Warlock cursing on the other side.  “But you will work through it and rise above.”  She said the words as if they were fact, written somewhere in gold letters on marble. In that moment Harriet, who had been prey to tears and uncertainty for so long over her decision to break her son’s family in half, believed her.  She wiped a tear away with half a smile.  

Ashtoreth crossed to the door but paused with her hand on the shaking handle.  “You’re very brave,” she said, and something soft crossed her face. “It’s difficult to leave the past behind and start over.”  

She opened the door and let Warlock in, easily taking the smaller of his bags and explaining how they’d get it down the lane to their cottage.  Francis set the table with a beautiful antique china set and tea from a large, piping hot thermos.  There were cookies and little sandwiches and some cakes, all clearly bought nearby.  

Harriet sipped her tea and nibbled cucumber sandwiches as she watched her beautiful boy chattering and laughing with his nanny and gardener.  He talked about school and his friends and his games – the last of which Ashtoreth knew a surprising amount about.  He never once mentioned home, and neither did Harriet.  

It was Francis who kept Harriet neatly in the conversation, asking about her work and the trip over with her and Warlock.  Her son had even laughed when she told the story of the debacle at airport security, when she’d finally discovered she somehow had a dime in her bra. He’d acted horrified at the time, as if she’d meant to embarrass him on purpose, but now he laughed along with the others, dark eyes alight.

Oh, she’d missed this boy.  When had she seen him last?  It had to be months.  And it was all because of her, being selfish, wanting something better.  Maybe she should have waited until he was eighteen? Maintained his stability?  But what if Thad raised a hand to Warlock one day, as he had to her?  What if-

Soft fingers squeezed hers.  She startled and looked at Francis, who winked at her almost roguishly.  “I never know what she’s going on about with these games of hers,” he said, lifting his hand away.  “I know they like to get you to spend money on buying pretend money. She’s especially proud of that.”

“Proud?”

“Ah-oh, nothing, nothing.” He waved a hand.  Harriet was reminded of a number of odd non sequiturs she’d heard from him over the years.  “Does Warlock need watching on that count?”

“No, but only because we’ve cut off access,” Harriet admitted., but she hasted to add:  “He’s really a good boy, Brother Francis, it’s just been-it’s been hard for him.  He’s angry and scared.”  

Francis hummed quiet agreement.  “And you?” he asked kindly.  He’d always been so kind, almost unnaturally so, in the same way Ashtoreth was always almost comically severe.  

She opened her mouth to say she was fine, just fine, that’s what everyone wanted to hear when they asked how you were, after all.  Nobody wanted a woman to fall apart, to talk about her husband’s affairs or his absences or the time he nearly hit her because he was so tense about his job. No one wanted to see a woman cry while she admitted she’d failed as a wife and she was struggling as a mother and everything, everything felt too hard right now.  

But somehow, instead, she said, lower lip trembling, “Much the same.”

Francis nodded seriously. He glanced across the table at Ashtoreth who was, with unfamiliar animation, arguing the finer points of Minecraft fan-made content with Warlock, and his smile was so soft that it ached under Harriet’s ribs.  “We recently left behind everything,” he said quietly, voice pitched for her ears only. “Not just our jobs, though we knew Cr-Ashtoreth wouldn’t be needed much longer; you’d kept her on longer than we thought you would.  But our . . . families.  We had to, to move on.  To have this. Something better.”  He looked into Harriet’s eyes, and something unfamiliar warmed her from within.  “I won’t betray the confidences of Warlock’s letters, but he does understand why you’ve made this choice.  And though he can’t say it . . .” they both looked across at the boy, who glanced back at them questioningly, “he believes you and he will find a better life.  And so do I.”

The tears came. She tried to hide them, because this wasn’t the time or place, but they fell of their own accord, warm and wet down her cheeks.  She grabbed one of the soft napkins to hide behind, successfully stifling any sound. She had made the decision for both of them, because she loved Warlock and didn’t love Thaddeus.  She hadn’t, not for a very long time.  Maybe not since she found herself, all alone, in a hospital in Tadfield.  

“Mum?”   He sounded like a little boy.

Harriet rubbed hard at her face and lowered the napkin, wobbly smile in place.  “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to get upset.” She stood up.  “Thank you so much for the tea, but I must be going.  I’m sure it’s just lack of sleep.  I’ll be right as rain after a night in the hotel.”

Ashtoreth’s soft voice held something like a hiss, and Harriet barely heard it.  “Be honesssst.”

Warlock bit his lip, looked away, squirmed in his chair, and then jerked to his feet.  He shuffled three steps before crossing the last bit of distance at a run and wrapping his arms around his mother’s waist.

Harriet almost hesitated before wrapping her own arms around him and pressing her eyes against his soft hair.  “Warlock?” she asked shakily.

“It’s okay, Mom,” he said.  “I’ll be okay here.  You won’t have to worry about me.  And I’ll-” he stopped, cleared his throat.  “I’ll miss you.”

Harriet smiled and gave him a final squeeze as he pulled away.  “I’ll miss you too,” she said, and the tears were there but hidden away behind something that could be like peace.  She looked across at the two odd people who had agreed to help them when her own parents berated her for divorcing and wouldn’t take them in. They stood together, arms around each other’s waists, not-quite-watching and instead smiling at each other in a way that felt like a couple who had been married for sixty years and still found comfort in the other’s eyes.

She could have a chance at that.  She could start over, and try again, no matter what her parents had to say about it.  

 “Now be good,” she said, and Warlock sighed and rolled his eyes and acted terribly insulted, and Francis laughed and Ashtoreth led her out the door and made sure she had transportation to where she needed to be, and Warlock squeezed her hand one more time as she left with a tin of cookies and a book to read on the road and a sincere, “You should stay a couple of days as well, when you get back” that she was going to seriously consider.

There was laughter as the door closed behind her and she heard Warlock say, “So how far are you guys from the beach?”

Harriet stopped and took a deep breath.  

She could do this. She wasn’t alone.  

She smiled to herself.

God did sometimes send the unlikeliest of angels, when you needed them most.

[laytonsartblog]

The Best of Worst Days

Economic Crisis AU

Ch. 1, Ch. 2

Warning: this content has violence, poverty, guns, starvation, hypothermia, dysfunctional family themes, and dystopian themes. Read when comfortable and in a safe spot. Care for yourself.

--

Patton has a schedule he dedicates his life to.

First, to get up at five.

Then take a shower, standing in a bucket.

Why a bucket? To catch the dirty water.

After his shower, Patton will put that murky liquid into a filter to drain out all the gunk and make him and his son breakfast while he's waiting. Once he's finished with all of that, he takes the filtered water and pours it into empty water bottles and then throws them into his tiny icebox.

Proceeding is obviously to wake up his adorable little four-year-old Virgil and eat with him until it's time to go at six-thirty, and walk Virgil to his pre-k daycare with the rest of breakfast and the fresh water bottle as lunch.

From that point on it's just to get to his work at the construction site by seven and work until two pm, and pick Virgil up to bring home.

They play and eat and maybe visit the park for two hours, then Patton has to get to his other job down the block at a small crafts store by five, which is where he'll be until midnight, then walk all the way back home and fall flat on his face to sleep on the floor.

Simple, right?

Yes, well, there's this thing called sleep depriviation and insomnia that gets in the way.

When Patton wakes up as he does every day, his tired eyes make their way to the clock before bulging out of his head. It's six am.

He scrambled to get Virgil up and about. "Virgil!" Patton whispered as he gently shook his son's shoulders. "Virgil, Papa's running late for work, you need to make your own sandwich while I get ready, okay?"

Virgil merely whined and curled in closer to his thin blanket.

"Pleeeeeease?" Patton pleaded. "I know it's a bit sudden and I usually let you sleep in more, but Papa can't do everything at once, okay?"

Virgil finally sat up and groaned, wiping his eyes. "S'okay, Papa. I'll help."

Patton smiled softly as Virgil clumsily went about to his little cubby to grab a clean shirt and shorts to change into, before remembering the time and running off to change too.

Patton came out of the bathroom with his expendable construction t shirt and jeans and stared at the time; six-thirty.

"Come on, Virgil," Patton urged gently as he picked his boy up. "We're gonna need to skip breakfast today, but I'll leave you some money to get something at the cafeteria, okay?"

Virgil nodded sleepily against Patton's chest. "Okay, Papa..."

Patton sighed contentedly as he continued to hold Virgil on the rest of the walk to the daycare before placing him gently down in front of the door. He fished in his pockets for change.

"Don't worry, honey, I'll have something here somewhere..." Patton trailed off as he continued to search through his pockets for maybe even a dime, but, no, there was nothing. Patton gave up his search with a sigh. "Well, kiddo, I- I think you'll need to ask for some of your friend's extra snacks, or maybe one of the teachers to get you something because Papa doesn't- Papa doesn't have the money."

Virgil looked like his rubber duck had just been melted and Patton almost teared up at the sight. He hated having to starve his own son because he couldn't get the money.

Virgil ran up and hugged Patton's skinny legs. "Is okay, Papa, 'm okay, Papa go job," he mumbled into the cloth of Patton's jeans. "I go play now." He ran off like a wolf into the night into the daycare, rushing to play with the fun trains. A complete switch.

Patton would have broke down then if it weren't for the fact he was on the clock.

He ran to the site he was supposed to be working on, just two or three miles away. When he got there, however, his manager stood with a tapping shoe and folded arms.

"Look who finally showed up!" she snarked, red luxerious lipstick painted bright to announciate every twisted syllable.

Patton's shoulders went sky high to hide his paler-than-average face. "I-I am so sorry, ma'am," he apologized. "I didn't mean to- my son, I had to drop him off to daycare, and he was being fussy, so-"

Patton didn't like to lie, but it was the only way for him to keep the job. If she found out it was because he woke up late? A big fat 'FIRED' notice would appear in his p.o. box.

The woman sighed. Her foot stopped tapping, but her arms stayed crossed. "Listen..." she started. "You seem to work hard and you've got a kid to take care of. I get it. Times like these in this stupid country can be tough."

Patton felt some hope glimmer in his chest. Perhaps just a warning?

"But that doesn't exclude the fact you've been late four times this month, fainted twice from exhaustion, and spread the cough to my workers last winter."

Patton's heart sank back to where it was before.

"That's why... I need to let you go. It's hard work and I cannot have tardiness and exhaustion running my construction equipment."

And that's when Patton's heart went all the way down to Hell.

"You're... I'm... I'm fired?" Patton gasped out, almost as if he couldn't believe it; or rather, didn't want to.

His manager nodded. "I'm so sorry, Patton, you seem like a fine worker. You're just not cut out for working early hours on tough plaster with a kid to take care of and a whole load of sleep problems."

Patton's hands felt numb but slimy. He was sweating but he couldn't even tell if it was hot. All he felt was cold; cold dread, cold guilt, cold everything.

"I-I'm sorry, maybe I could- maybe you could move me down to textile ordering management?" Patton tried not to let that determined little speck of hope reach too high in his voice; it still strained of heartbreak either way.

Her bright red lips frowned and her mascara-covered eyes closed. "I'm sorry, Patton, but those spots are all full. If you wanted to really work there, you could be the mission boy, but that's significantly lesser pay, and may conflict with the schedule you're on."

Patton sighed, his hope and heart finally settling in a dark chasm in his chest. "Thank you for at least concerning it, ma'am, I'll- I'll be on my way, now."

With a racking breath and wobbly knees, Patton turned away and walked back home. Once through the door, he sat on the small mattress Virgil used and began to sob.

"I can't feed my child, I lost my job, and bills are coming up! What the hell am I to do?" Patton yelled as he bawled into his hands.

Every part of him screamed and ached. He needed sleep, he needed rest, he needed something to eat, he needed his child to hold dear, he just needed; but he can never have what he wants, especially like the sad sack of debt and depression he was.

Patton couldn't exactly tell how long he had cried for, but the next time he looked up at the clock, it was eight am. He figured that the library was open, so he might as well head over there for a free read to calm down.

That, and free wifi and computer access.

Patton tried to make himself not look like the outside rendition of how he was feeling on the inside as he walked along the craggy sidewalks to the nearby city library. His attempts to cover up the way his hair sagged and his eyes pulsed didn't exactly prove fruitful as people walked by in sympathy or disgust. Their reactions only made Patton's heart clench more.

After he finished his three mile walk, he practically ghosted through the library doors; he looked as much, anyway, with his pale face and sunken eyes.

The librarian from across the room lowered his sunglasses, intrigued and a little suspicious.

The depression hit almost everyone, yes, but that didn't mean that hobos possibly addicted to meth were a person Remy was begging to listen to on a Monday morning in a damn library. Remy was not awake enough to tell the raggedy middle aged patron this wasn't the back alley to sneak some crack in before making his way back on the streets to ask for a job, so Remy just adjusted his sunglasses and resumed looking up sugar daddies on his phone.

Patton ignored the stares from the young librarian and instead went to the computer, taking out his library card and typing out the number and sending it in. After waiting for what seemed like hours, the internet finally decided to load the computer up and allow Patton to search for more loan applications and job openings.

However, he came up empty handed.

The jobs either weren't paying enough, required a higher degree than a high school diploma, or were simply too far away. The loans? They would cause more debt; Patton was better off without more false promises.

There was a website Patton was interested in, though, that he found while scrolling through the Google search "friend finding": GetAlong.

GetAlong, apparently, was a free penpal website people could use do the same as texting without having to pay for it. Except, there's a twist; the people you meet are strangers. They could be from across the country, across the planet, your next-door neighbor, anyone who signs up with the site is eligible for you to meet. You could message eachother, send pictures, videos, links, live feeds, and sticker-like emoji; all within the website.

The only consolation is for it to be anonymous. The only information you can put is your first name, your age, your gender, and maybe some things you're interested in. The rest is to fill in for yourself after you meet them.

The reason Patton was so interested is because he needed someone to talk to. Sure, he had Virgil to play with on bad days, and he had his coworker Roman from the crafts store he still worked at, but other than that? No family, no friends, and no help.

Perhaps this website could at least bring him some happiness.

So Patton, with a lot more time on his hands and feeling a lot more distraught than normal, signed up.

Patton Gentile, 32, trans-male. I like knitting, snuggling up in the winter, and taking care of my son. Hope to give you a happy hello soon!

Patton stared back at the words on the screwn with his fingers hovering over the keyboard, motionless.

Was this really all I needed to say? he thought. Did I need to say more, or less?

He decided to get it over with and hit send, leaving his mark on the world.

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

Taglist:

@amazable01 @vara-albion

[amandabe11man]

a VERY LONG post about Hell on Wheels

YEAH i forgot about this post in my drafts... it’s been like a year since i finished the show now and i feel i’ve barfed everything out into this post (that i can think of), so here it goes (you’ll have to shield your eyes after the spoiler warning if you don’t wanna be spoiled btw. i can’t seem to be able to add a read more-link...) :

SO... i finished watching “hell on wheels” at last, pm half a year since i started. it’s funny because i was under the impression that i’d sOMEHOW be able to binge all five seasons within just one month (reason: i wanted to watch it before my free trial on HBO’s website went out). honestly, that wouldn’t have been possible because it was a LOT more emotionally draining than you’d think at first glance... after being gutpunched three times in a row in season 4, any reasonable human would need a little break.

anyway, it feels-- weird. i’ve never been big on following tv-shows so i haven’t been able to relate to that feeling ppl describe once they’ve finished a show they’ve become so attached to, except NOW i can relate. the show’s not groundbreaking, it’s not perfect, but i’ve had a lot of fun. what a ride it’s been...

looking back, i’d say HOW’s biggest weakness is its tendency to forget or ignore certain plot points. i guess that’s not too weird, with such an arsenal of characters, but still, i find that’s what bugged me the most, if anything bugged me at all. for example--

[SPOILERS for those who might wanna watch it after seeing me go on abt it, idk]:

first off, what REALLY grinds my gears is how ezra dutson’s plotline was handled. it was set up perfectly in the beginning; having him escape from the swede (who promised him that, and i quote: “i’ll find you, ezra! i always do”), the original plan was obviously for ezra and the swede to “reunite” some time in the future so that ezra could tell everyone that the swede killed his parents, thus tying up loose ends and giving some closure to that whole arc. some might say this would’ve been too predictable, but i would rather have that predictable storyline than having it just end unceremoniously like it did, with ezra dying ACCIDENTALLY and off-screen by sidney snow’s hand, simply as a way to further bohannon’s pain and set the stage for ruth’s final arc. this might’ve been fine, if the writers had made it so that ezra actually, y’know, TOLD SOMEONE WHY HE’S AN ORPHAN TO BEGIN WITH. but they didn’t even give the viewer that form of closure, instead just deciding to use him as a plot device for the other characters’ increased angst... bohannon and the others were never even made aware of ezra’s last name, and this is all what bugs the everliving SHIT outta me: the only ones who know, or will EVER know, ezra’s full story is the swede and the viewer, tho after season 4′s end, ezra is never mentioned or acknowledged again-- not by bohannon, and not even by the swede. ezra went from convenient character with a PURPOSE to “nameless” orphan forgotten by history. thanks, writers...

then there’s the whole deal with campbell coming to town to reinforce The Law™, which wasn’t a bad arc, mind you-- campbell and his goons were the most infuriating little shits for a while there-- but the thing is; didn’t campbell LIE to his men about the president giving him the position as governor? i might’ve misunderstood it, but i’m PRETTY sure the president didn’t give him THAT much of an upstanding role, but that campbell just went ahead and took that position anyway? if that was indeed the case, then that’s another plot hole, cause nobody finds out about campbell’s possible trickery to become the governor. nobody rats him out, despite literally no one in “his” town liking him all that much, so they’d have no reason to protect his “secret”. (correct me if i’m wrong on this one though. i might be misremembering things)

then there’s the other pretty infuriating issue of bad guys never getting called out for doing bad shit (unless it’s the swede, who gets all the blame, all the time), for example:

major dick bongbendix(???idk he had a silly name like that) is presented VERY MUCH as a bad guy in the beginning. y’know, just casually beheading natives on all his missions and collecting those heads and taking them to the bar like a fucking nutcase-- those little details. he also seemed to believe in racial biology, so yeah, definitely not a good guy. but by the end, he’s been watered down into some quirky guy who’s ALMOST on friendly terms with the main characters. yeah, uh-- seems everyone (writers included) collectively forgot the whole public display of cut-off heads he had going on...

aaron hatch: started off as a guy too proud for his- or his family’s own good when he shot the police officer, BLAMED IT ON HIS FUCKING SON and then just kinda let bohannon hang the kid even though it was pretty obvious hatch was just shifting the blame away from himself. THEN he reappears with some other mormons and causes a full-on shootout in the town (probably getting some people killed, i don’t remember), TAKES EZRA (also a mormon) HOSTAGE SO THAT BOHANNON WILL COME WITH THEM WILLINGLY and passive aggressively forces bohannon to marry his daughter who bohannon knocked up. somewhere along the line, hatch’s bad side is just thrown to the wind, and bohannon at one point describes him as “a good man”. yeah, ABOUT THAT--

sean and mickey mcginnes: unlike the ones mentioned above, these two started out as seemingly decent dudes, but ended up pm as secondary villains in the end. however, like the ones mentioned above, they hardly face any consequences for whatever crap it was they did in boston, OR the fact that they killed and fucking mutilated/dismembered a man in cold blood (a man who WAS gonna kill them, yes, but HE did it because he thought they had killed his friend, which wasn’t a farfetched idea since mickey DID brag about killing the dude even though he didn’t actually do it). sure, they face their OWN demons as time goes on, they get ostracized, and they start losing faith in each other as well, which ends up with mickey killing sean before the latter can confess(?) his/their crimes. so, while sean was spineless and a creep, at least he thought about finally owning up to what he’d done in the end, whereas mickey lives on to keep doing shady shit, killing people, and getting increasingly more corrupt. he does end up pursuing new goals in the end, but it’s obvious he’s not happy about it anymore. that’s-- really all the comeuppance he ever gets, and the only one who knows about his shady businesses are pm just bohannon, durant and eva (also, personal gripe here-- they seemed to not settle for “just” tarring and feathering the swede and publicly humiliating him, but i’m pretty sure i recall mickey telling bohannon they were thinking about having the swede killed too. keep in mind, this was BEFORE the swede truly lost it and started killing people left and right. apparently, being kind of a douche about taxes is bad enough to warrant being tortured and cast out by the entire community... i’m obviously biased here, but still-- the mcginnes bros’ double standards are amazing to behold)

now that i’ve aired some of that out-- here are some highlights, according to me:

unexpected friendships, like that between eva and durant. i’d say the swede finding that stray dog and fawning all over him qualifies into this category too

durant and campbell fighting in the mud before finally coming to an agreement -- just- durant and his competitors being petty as fuck, honestly. it’s hilarious

bohannon trying to get through to elam by reminiscing about their friendship, especially since bohannon isn’t one to show his feelings often OR get sappy -- in fact, EVERY time bohannon loses his stoic facade is a good moment. when he was gonna bury elam and he just broke down completely for the first time since we were introduced to him... that shit had me in tears as well, but man was it a great scene

jimmy two-squaws

every time the swede opens his mouth (yes, even when he’s spouting some lies and bullshit like that)

ruth’s character development. i admit i didn’t like her at all in the beginning, idk something just felt off about her, but man did she ever grow on me. just-- how everyone kinda relied on her eventually, even though she’s only like in her 20′s or something... she still became a pillar of the community. bless ya, ruth :’ı -- also, her essentially adopting ezra was Pure as heck. I Lov it

the fact that this was the 1800′s and the only backlash the (openly) LGBT characters faced for it was pm just “yeah they’re a bit confused maybe but they’re not hurting anyone”. maybe that’s not very realistic but WHO GIVES A SHIT AMIRITE

mr tao just being a sweet old man

chang’s sunglasses, straight out of Django Unchained

mr toole’s complete heel-turn from racist POS to someone who sticks by his word to turn himself around. that shit was impressive coming from him, tbh

bohannon just calmly running into a buffalo by the train tracks

mei posing as a grown man instead of a boy (which is what she looks and sounds like, oml)

another thing i realized is that bohannon is a classic gary stu. there’s just no getting around that fact after seeing him being revered by most everyone he meets, how he’s somehow the only person able to build the railroad(s) fast and efficiently, and even wooing the literal PRESIDENT and becoming close friends with him-- all this despite his Bold and Brash personality. of course, there’s more to bohannon than these gary stu-symptoms, but i felt someone should bring it up, for the lulz

[jul-iet]

weird asks that say a lot

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans? Coffee mugs

2. chocolate bars or lollipops? Chocolate bars

3. bubblegum or cotton candy? Bubblegum. Cinnamon

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you? Performative, joyful, clever? Haha

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups? From soda cans

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear? ...

7. earbuds or headphones? Earbuddies

8. movies or tv shows? TV shows

9. favourite smell in the summer? All of it! Seaweed, wind from the ocean, rain on hot ground, thick air

10. game you were best at in p.e.? Most. Running maybe? I enjoyed soccer, basketball

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day? Croissants on the best of days, otherwise— some kind of toast maybe paired with fruit

12. name of your favourite playlist? Nice to revisit ones named after places I went

13. lanyard or key ring? Key ring

14. favourite non-chocolate candy? Sour ones

15. favourite book you read as a school assignment? Catcher and the Rye maybe, at the time? Or Lord of the Flies. I really liked studying Shakespeare

16. most comfortable position to sit in? Criss cross or w my knees tucked up to my chest

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes? White sneakers

18. ideal weather? Sunny

19. sleeping position? Usually on my left side, sometimes on my back in a crescent shape

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)? Journal

21. obsession from childhood? Fictional relationships in my teens, the movie Spirit in my early childhood

22. role model? A well adjusted person with creative life and intellectual exertions

23. strange habits? A bunch I’m sure

24. favourite crystal? Don’t know that I do

25. first song you remember hearing? Apart from movie soundtracks, it’s Tiny Dancer whilst driving south through a desert

26. favourite activity to do in warm weather? Swim

27. favourite activity to do in cold weather? Get warm? Maybe read

28. five songs to describe you? Girl from the North Country, Wildflowers, People I’ve Been Sad, Shrike, Come Back to Camden

29. best way to bond with you? Be kind and interested in things

30. places that you find sacred?

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names? Tank top wide legs pants and sneakers

32. top five favourite vines?

33. most used phrase in your phone? Probably “haha” :P

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head? NB shoes may b

35. average time you fall asleep? Between one and two, but I’m trying to remedy that

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing? Couldn’t recall

37. suitcase or duffel bag? Suitcase

38. lemonade or tea? Tea if I had to choose, but I love lemonade (could make lemon tea and cool…)

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie? Lemon cake

40. weirdest thing to ever happen to you at your school? Maybe the fire alarm fiasco

41. last person you texted? Group of 2

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets? Jacket pockets

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket? Cardi

44. favourite scent for soap? Mmm lots

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero? Fantasy, maybe? None, really

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in? Shirt knick

47. favourite type of cheese? Brie

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be? A rasp I think? Or a tomato

49. what saying or quote do you live by? This one rings true to my daily thoughts. By Cheryl Strayed: "You go on by doing the best you can. You go on by being generous. You go on by being true. You go on by offering comfort to others who can't go on. You go on by allowing the unbearable days to pass and allowing the pleasure in other days. You go on by finding a channel for your love and another for your rage."

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have? Probably shenanigans w my sister

51. current stresses? Circumstance, school, direction, reflection

52. favorite font? TNR!!!

53. what is the current state of your hands? Fabü

54. what did you learn from your first job? How to make coffee and to serve strangers

55. favourite fairy tale? Don’t know that I do. Is Dumbo a fairy tale? A Little Life is part fairy tale according to Hanya

56. favourite tradition? Cards

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome? Lightly, quickly, vaguely: childhood, panic, listlessness

58. four talents you’re proud of having? Painting, writing, smarts, quick reflexes

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be? IDK anime

61. favourite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.? Recently, from A Little Life:

"“I’m going”, he tells Jude, but then he doesn’t move. A dragonfly, as shiny as a scarab, hums above them. “I’m going”, he repeats, but he still doesn’t move, and it is only the third time he says it that he’s finally able to stand up from the lounge chair, drunk on the hot air, and shove his feet back into his loafers.  “Limes”, says Jude, looking up at him and shielding his eyes against the sun.  “Right”, he says, and bends down, takes Jude’s sunglasses off him, kisses him on his eyelids, and replaces his glasses. Summer, JB has always said, is Jude’s season: his skin darkens and his hair lightens to almost the same shade, making his eyes turn an unnatural green, and Willem has to keep himself from touching him too much.”

62. seven characters you relate to? I feel that I’m more able to understand than relate to characters, but… the way Patti Smith expresses herself in her biographical books, Little Creek, Willem for how he deals with other peoples’ pain… I think I don’t encounter enough characters for this

63. five songs that would play in your club? Waterloo, Right Down the Line, Nobody’s Diary, Cringe, Take Your Mama

64. favourite website from your childhood? Haha freearcade for wiz 3 maybe

65. any permanent scars? From trips falls cooking singes

66. favourite flower(s)? Wild! No one particularly

67. good luck charms? I feel like my rings are good luck. I’ve had good luck symbols that have come and gone in time

68. worst flavour of any food or drink you’ve ever tried? I think root beer is rank

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned? I know there’s a bunch but they come up by chance not choice

70. left or right handed? Right

71. least favourite pattern? Houndstooth?

72. worst subject? Maybe physics

73. favourite weird flavour combo? Idk if I have a favourite… dipped digestives in tatziki recently and it wasn’t bad

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen? 7 maybe

75. when did you lose your first tooth? In kindergarten

76. what’s your favourite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)? Salt and vinegar chips

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill? I’d say herbs for cooking… thyme, basil, rosemary, mint

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store? Gas station coffee

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo? School ID

80. earth tones or jewel tones? Earthy

81. fireflies or lightning bugs? Fireflies

82. pc or console? Beyond me

83. writing or drawing? Writing usually

84. podcasts or talk radio? Pods

84. barbie or polly pocket? Neither

85. fairy tales or mythology? Mythology?

86. cookies or cupcakes? Cookies

87. your greatest fear? Balding unfulfilled potential infection insanity

88. your greatest wish? Romantic love

89. who would you put before everyone else?

90. luckiest mistake? I feel like the way certain trips fell together was lucky

91. boxes or bags? Bags

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights? Sunlight

93. nicknames? Jet yetti jules julio

94. favourite season? Summer

95. favourite app on your phone? Spotify, duolingo, YT… soft spot for all my old travel apps

96. desktop background? Lake water

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized? I think around 5

98. favourite historical era? Don’t have one