#It’s been a while since I talked about nursing stuff lmao

[palukoo]

I know I’ve made other posts talking about or alluding to this but like. obviously there are like the old hollywood movies in the sort of dyke subtext canon (all about eve, rebecca, johnny guitar, etc) but like. there are so many movies that like 10 people have seen but I have such a clear gay vision or interpretation for it. most of them aren’t even GOOD. and yet!!

like the great lie is the one that haunts me the most (or the women but I think that one is kind of different for me perhaps bc I’ve already talked about it here a lot or perhaps bc I think of it as being more well known and watched than I think it actually is? actually it’s probably that I think it is an overall good and well executed and entertaining movie which isn’t really true of most of these tbh). but I also think a lot about like when ladies meet, or old acquaintance, or sadie mckee, or the shining hour, or the model and the marriage broker, or a woman’s secret, or the bigamist, or craig’s wife, or born to be bad, or separate tables, or even dark victory to a degree. others too certainly those are just the ones that come to mind. for half of these it’s not even like oh these women are gay together it’s just like hey I think she’s a lesbian. and I’m right. but my genius will never be fully appreciated in my day unfortunately.

[strawberrykidneystone]

I Was Gone for Two Seconds

garrus vakarian x fem! shepard

summary: in purgatory, shepard steps away for a second and her stool was taken

a/n: if it sounds like that one scene from victorious you're right and you should say it #mybad

tags: tooth rotting fluff, set in ME3, catty comments (sorry i’ve been rewatching dance moms), garrus being oblivious as always, shepard being rightfully pissed (smh), species hostility kinda???, reassurance, lovey dovery gross stuff, ooc bc garrus says ily (LMAO), busy couple making time for each other ):

ao3 version

shepard was sat at the bar in purgatory with her legs crossed in a little black dress and heels, nursing a purple drink that she had already forgotten the name of. she was waiting for garrus to arrive to have some semblance of a proper date for the two of them. however, knowing him, he most likely got caught up with calibrating the weapons in the normandy for the umpteenth time, but she didn’t blame him nor was she mad. in fact, she had arrived later than their decided time as well since she got caught up in her own paperwork.

suddenly, she felt a tap on her right shoulder. she looked over, but saw no one. she turned her head to the left and saw the face of her favorite turian with a nervous smile on his face.

“sorry for running late shepard, the primarch needed help with-”

shepard leaned in and cut him off with a kiss, pulling back and patting his chest with a smile, “garrus i barely got here, you’re fine big guy, i get it.”

garrus’ shoulders relaxed and a sigh of relief left his mouth, settling into the stool next to her, “thank you sweetie, i can’t promise that it won’t happen again, but i can promise i’ll always make up for it.”

he had been holding a hand behind his back, bringing it forward to show to her with a blue blush creeping up his neck. shepard looked down at his hand and gasped, picking up the gift and examining it, “a thermal scope! i’ve been wanting to try one of these babies out forever!”

shepard grinned like a kid on christmas and threw her arms around garrus’ neck, kissing his cheek with an emphasized “mwah”. garrus wrapped his arms around shepard’s waist and purred with her in his arms, looking at her with love in his eyes.

“i’m glad you like it.”

“like it? i love it.”

“more than you love me?”

“know your limits vakarian.”

the two laughed together and shepard let go of the embrace, garrus’ hand remaining on her thigh with her hand over it. he waved the bartender over and ordered a drink. the two of them chatted for a while about anything and everything, talking to each other as if they were the only ones in the room. shepard excused herself to go "powder her nose", aka she's had to pee for the last 10 minutes and couldn't stand it anymore.

when she returned, she was met with a surprise.

a female turian was sitting on the stool that she had occupied not long ago, talking to garrus a little too enthusiastically for her liking. as shepard approached, she was able to hear their conversation.

"why don't you stick to your own species? that little human has nothing on a real turian woman."

garrus looked appalled and opened his mouth to say something, but shepard cleared her throat before he got the chance. her hands rested squarely on her hips, her eyebrows raised with her jaw tightened. the turian woman looked her up and down, then rolled her eyes, "speak of the devil."

"that's commander devil to you."

garrus laughed at that and covered it with a cough, letting shepard take the lead.

shepard plastered on the fakest smile she could and tilted her head, "sorry, but this little human couldn't help but notice that you took my seat. i’d like it back now."

the turian scoffed and slid out of the seat, shoulder-checking shepard as she passed her, "he's all yours, who wants a man with a damaged mandible anyways."

shepard balled her hands into fists before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, letting her fists go before walking up to garrus.

"shepard i'm so sorry, we were talking about the newest black widow that was released onto the market yesterday and then suddenly she changed the subject-" shepard cut off his rambling by taking his mandibles in her hands and kissing his lip plates, kissing all around his face before pulling back to look into his eyes, searching for any semblance of doubt in them. when she found none, she smiled reassuringly to him and rubbed her thumbs against mandibles.

garrus reached up and wrapped his hands around hers, turning his head to kiss her right palm before nuzzling his cheek against it. she knew he was being genuine, and even if she was blatantly flirting with him, shepard knew he would never pick up on it, that's for sure.

"for the record, i am one of those women who find scars attractive."

garrus laughed by letting a puff of air out of his nose and kissed her other palm, "for the record, i love my commanders a little devilish." shepard snorted and plopped down into her seat again. she leaned her elbow against the bar and resting her hand against her cheek.

"i love you vakarian."

"I love you too shepard."

"why don't we go back to the normandy and i can show you just how devilish i am," shepard said with an impish grin on her face.

"i wouldn't mind a little demonstration. i am a physical learner," garrus flirted back before quickly downing his drink.

shepard giggled before finishing the rest of her drink, standing up and grabbing his hand before leading him back to the Normandy. she glanced back just before they left purgatory and made eye contact with the turian woman from before, sticking her tongue out childishly as she led the love of her life back to their own home away from home.

notes: i'm actually happier with this piece than i thought i would be!! pls leave a comment if you want a part 12 with smut 👀 if i made any spelling or grammatical error pls lmk too

[chipistrate]

Why I believe Carnival will take place in the modern era, NOT the 70's/80's

featuring a bunch of neurodivergent rambles and hopefully some comprehendible evidence

TLDR; I think Carnival is akin to Help Wanted 1 in that it'll show Fazbear Entertainment bringing back an old event known as Fall Fest to cover up a past incident that happened there, which I believe to be related to Mimic.

Theory under cut cause the it's long

Starting with why I think it's taking place in modern times and not early 80's/70's:

Help Wanted 2 practically confirms that Fall Fest and Carnival are one in the same, and along with that we got some interesting new hints at Carnival through certain minigames.

First Aid features a character called 'Carnival Nurse' guiding us through caring for Helpy. Carousel seems to take place in a carnival. And Fazerblast is said to take place in Fall Fest through one of Carnie's voice lines; "Gather round folks! Come see the worst Fazerblast player in the history of Fall Fest!"

Odd details to be in what's assumed to be a training simulator of sorts based on the other minigames. So, maybe they are still training you, just not exactly for the Pizzaplex- but instead training you for the reopening of Fall Fest. Fazbear Entertainment planning on taking some of the newbies at the Pizzaplex/Pizzaplexes and transferring them to the Fall Fest location while it's opened (assuming it wouldn't be permanent since it seemed to be a seasonal thing) doesn't seem too far fetched for Faz Ent- it's a money saver.

And if I can circle back around to Fazerblast and Carousel specifically, they both heavily feature Pizzaplex animatronics, which wouldn't make sense for an event from the 70's/80's.

Fazerblast 1 includes the glamrock band fighting off threats in space- typical fazerblast stuff. Fazerblast 2 focuses on Glamrock Chica and who we can assume to be Pizzaplex Foxy. Both use cutouts seen in the Pizzaplex, as well as cutouts using the same art style as the ones in the plex- they aren't old or anything.

That's also not mentioning how Fazerblast is most likely a new concept created for the Pizzaplex that hasn't been shown or hinted at having any prior role in the franchise before the Pizzaplexes creation.

And Carousel features Moon as the main/only animatronic hunting you down, and Sun as your "tutorial", aka they're the one that tells you it's broken and you need to fix it. With how Sun talks about it and how the DA is the main center focus on the carousel, it almost feels as though there's some connection between them and the ride, like they were the one who attended to it and its guests during the day- almost like it was "their ride" at the carnival. Though I could totally just be looking too far into it lmao

Now moving away from Help Wanted 2 and backing it up to Help Wanted 1, specifically the DLC.

The DLC with the lobby that has the huge banner saying "Fall Fest '83"! Of course I'd bring it up lmao

With my theory taking the premise of HW1 and using it as a foundation, Fall Fest being referenced in HW1's DLC feels pretty important. A game made to cover up past events having a DLC with a big focus on the most likely location for Carnival. Might expand on this point later, but I feel it's worth mentioning that the Corn Maze level, the same level where we meet Vanny/the reluctant follower for the first time, is VERY explicitly shown to take place in Fall Fest, what with the huge banners saying "Fall Fest '83!" n all.

Kinda of connecting with the last point of Vanny being connected to Fall Fest in HW1- Balloon World, heavily theorized to be Gregory/GGY's Princess Quest equivalent, takes place in a carnival and features the Daycare Attendant, possibly giving more ties between the Glitchtrap followers and the carnival, as well as Sun/Moon.

Alright I have to add this in as a brief point- we have no confirmation that Balloon Circus and Carnival are connected, but since there's a possibility I might as well bring it up;

BC Chica is very clearly based on Glamrock Chica- the only other white Chica that may've been around during the 70's/early 80's was Funtime Chica and there's no similarities between FT Chica and BC Chica other than being white.

And that's essentially all the reasons I think Carnival could possibly take place in the modern era- but swiftly(and briefly) moving on to the Mimic connections to make the second part of this theory make sense;

The carnival catches on fire in the carousel and fazerblast minigame, Grimm Foxy is the main enemy in the corn maze minigame, and the corn maze minigame features this mural that looks like the aftermath of a fire. This all heavily implies a fire happening at the carnival and burning it down. Mimic was found in the epilogues in a burnt state that still hasn't been explained. With Mimics obsession with mascot costumes, something commonly used at carnivals, the event that left it burnt at the beginning of the epilogues could be explained by the fire that happened during Fall Fest.

(the mural in question)

---

With all that being said- what do I think will happen in Carnival exactly?

As stated prior, I think it'll be Fazbear Entertainment bringing back Fall Fest to cover up a prior incident involving the event.

I think someone- whether it be 3 star fam, Lucia, Danny, or a new character- is spreading the word about Mimic and it's starting to catch on. Fazbear Entertainment sees this attention and decides to bring back the event to cover up the rumors Help Wanted style, but it backfires just as hard as it did with Help Wanted. We'll be playing as someone that either goes in with the intention of investigating, or gets roped into investigating the secrets of Fall Fest's past, and get more insight on Mimic and better set him up in game as our new main antagonist.

Depending on when exactly this all takes place, the story could be different-

If it's after Security Breach, I could see it being 3 star family spreading the word and then going to investigate after Fall Fest's reopening to make sure Fazbear Entertainment isn't doing anything fishy (they always are).

If it's before Security Breach, I could see the connections between the Glitchtrap followers and Fall Fest becoming relevant, one or both of them showing up and trying to sabotage our attempts at unveiling the truth.

And it could go on- there's a lot of potential roads this theory could go down, those are just two that came to mind while writing this

----

Well now that that's done- YES I know this sounds batshit insane, but this is fnaf, what do you expect LMAO I just wanted to bring a new perspective to the table since everyone seems so confident that Carnival will take place in the past- and for good reason! But it's always worth thinking of it from a different perspective, yknow?

Shrug, just a fun possibility ^^ I don't have a closer line, but thanks for listening to my insanity! It may happen again!

[seanettlles]

if anyone has some good vibes they could wish my way, i'm on my last legs here and would appreciate any amount of luck to make Anything Good happen in my life sometime soon 🙃

Depressing Shit(tm) below if you want details idk

on top of being without medication Once Again (and this time has finally just worn me down and thrown me headlong into my worst depression since college lmao, loving it), my most recent psych nurse called me with a bitchy attitude about how she "didn't have time" to write me new scripts whenever i was able to find medication (this is the first time i made such a request), saying taking two minutes to look up an exact address and fill out a form was too hard in between her patients - this was after i spent HOURS calling pharmacies to find stock in the first place, so in reality i only needed her to do the last 5% of her job that i couldn't do myself. i Somehow didn't cuss her out entirely and just hung up after saying i'll find someone who is actually willing to work with me (i hope someone slashes her tires tho)

my glasses also broke a couple days ago and i spent a good 20mins crawling around my bathroom and crying while trying to find the screw to fix them to no avail. thank god i had an old pair still or i would be housebound until i could get a new pair bc my vision is too bad to drive with otherwise

aaand now i'm facing two straight weeks in the office to train someone while in possibly the worst mental state of my life ✌️ mostly i'm just hoping a car hits me (non-lethallyish) so i have an excuse not to go in

(that's just the recent stuff. not even getting into the house that hasn't been cleaned for months, barely eating properly in a. few?? weeks??? idk i lost track, plus all the other chores that have gone neglected meanwhile, my old isp breathing down my neck bc i haven't been able to send back their modem when i switched services, Still fighting with the reno place since the summer to get them to come out and replace parts on my windows they straight up entirely forgot to install, needing to get another car at some point bc my dad found concerning rust on mine... prolly more things i'm forgetting tbh)

truly don't know what i'm gonna do if something doesn't change soon sooooo yeah :'))) if i'm not very talkative it's bc my life is falling apart

[icepoptroll]

funny story; initially sent this ask to the wrong blog. anyways, at the risk of sounding ignorant, what's the nose apparatus ocean has in your art? is it a temporary thing because of her lung damage, or something she has for life?

Oh hi!

I basically draw her with that if I'm doing something based on my nurse Karnak AU. It's called a nasal cannula and it's basically one of several means of oxygen delivery (like an oxygen mask but it allows for better ease of talking, eating, etc) and it's connected to a portable oxygen concentrator.

The way I see it the lung damage resulting from the accident would be permanent and it's part of the reason she would shift her focus in life and start learning to sort of "see the forest for the trees." I draw this AU version of her a lot because so far I've written a lot with her in it and she's just been so much fun to slowly develop. She's learning a lot of important stuff (like that 'disability' isn't a dirty word, she should have truly cared about other people's struggles before they became her own, etc) while also keeping my favorite traits of hers (her tenacity, her competitive edge, her chatterbox nature lmao). So I don't know I guess when I was initially figuring out how the accident would have affected everyone this image of her came to me right away and I've been using it ever since!!

Thanks for the ask, friend!!

[bigsnzstanacct]

Fanfic Writing Ideas / Goals

Fandoms I want to write for that you should ask me about or talk to me about or give me ideas for or pester me about writing for (and I’m not putting the slashes and stuff in so if you stumble across this post while not being a part of my niche fetish community, no you didn’t):

Fellow Travelers: thinking in a context where Hawk has the fetish and Tim indulges him with some of the topping from the bottom/role reversal dynamics from the show. And Hawk sneezes really loud. Bc I want him to. Tim meanwhile just has the woooooooorst allergies and get some satisfaction out of someone being turned on rather than turned off by them for once.

Red White and Royal Blue: kinda thinking it would be fun to do a mutual fetish thing, probably changing some details about how they met and their interactions prior to the Cake Incident, but also I can’t work out the timing. I want one or the other (probably Alex bc how would Henry even do this) to have Very Secretly put some sneeze fetish content out into the internet and the other has been getting off to it since that very day, without realizing who it was. Also really trying to decide how much I can convince myself that Henry has a mental block and/or *always* stifles but actually if you get him to let it out he has a surprisingly big/loud/harsh sneeze. I know Alex sneezes loud and proud and uncovered and with a high-pitched upturn at the end, and is the kind of guy who sneezes just kinda randomly all the time, but it isn’t like intense fits unless he encounters one of his few allergies and then it is Intense Fits, you know what I mean?

Check Please: which I have a whole setup for, definitely a mutual fetish situation for Nursey and Dex where like Dex has The Perfect Big Loud Sneeze for Nurse but he always stifles so Nurse has the hots for a Mystery Loud Sneeze Guy who is later revealed to be Dex. Also something involving Holster also having Big Loud Uncovered Epic Dad Sneezes that echo through the Haus and Nursey and Dex both are like SO into, bc that guy just seems like he’d absolutely holler out his sneezes for real. And that he’d get like Epic Man Flu with Epic Dad Sneezes, etc.

Ted Lasso: specifically giant!sneeze Roy, and more specifically: “sex-linked giant sneezes are common and considered hot and Roy’s are EXTRA BIG and therefore considered Extra Hot but he is grumpy about this as he always is about everything” also he’s in some sort of romantic entanglement with Keeley and/or Jamie. And I still haven’t decided what Jamie’s sneezes should be like but he’s definitely going to have some degree of jealousy-of-Roy-and-the-jealousy-is-also-horny situation going on.

9-1-1: Somebody on here suggested Buck as a possible Big Sneezer character and I was like eh maybe that actor’s hot but THEN they made him Canonically Bi on the show and now I’m like fuck yeah make it happen need it yesterday. And I’m trying to decide if I want to go with the whole Buddie thing and have Eddie be a fetishist and maybe they can do a like “well like I’m Not Into Dudes like you are (yes he is stop lying) but I have this weird like… Thing for Sneezes and your sneezes are I dunno they’re like really big and hot and maybe we should make out about that and definitely not about Feelings” or if I want Buck to have the kink, but actually I think I’m leaning towards the former bc I want Buck’s big loud sneezes to be like A Problem somehow bc he’s such a cute golden retriever guy that I kinda want to whump him a little. Gentle whump. And then comfort bc like “I don’t have a problem with your sneezes and actually I kinda think they’re… hot?” Yeah, that sounds fun. I am deciding this now as I’m writing lmao.

Also possibly interested in Disco Elysium, like y’all make that fandom sound really hot and again one of those characters having the fetish could be suuuuuper hot also Harry definitely has the Dad Sneezes of all Dad Sneezes.

Also also I have the whole Dream Daddy setup that I’ve written about before on here. Really want to do the Hugo and Brian dates that I have plotted out especially, but always feel like once I get out of the Dream Daddy world I lose the voice for that fandom and it really requires a very specific voice. Although maybe I’ll just base it on the fics I’ve already written. Like if I just emulate that voice it’ll be close enough and at least it will be internally consistent.

Also also also I have the King’s New Allergy story that I feel I have basically revealed as a BBC Merlin fanfic, for which I want to write a steamy epilogue involving The King and The Mage huddled up in the King’s chambers while he sneezes out the last of the Big Magic Sneezes and they talk about the fetish and they fuck lmao.

I think that’s all I have on my list fanfic wise but if I’ve mentioned something else or you think something else would be a good idea for me to look into hit me up! In particular I think Ted Lasso and the sorta-kinda-Merlin-ish fic are the only ones that include real giant!sneeze (as opposed to my usual ridiculously loud and borderline unrealistically so sneeze) and perhaps I should also think of more fanfiction contexts that could accommodate that too.

[pfhwrittes]

Seeing all the Cat!Dad Simon this morning is just what I needed. Cute kitties!

But it also made me realize, seeing how others found their babies, I’ve never talked about how I found my babies!

Soooo! This is Mercy, thus named for where she was found. She loves her kitty blanket.

She was found living near a hospital being raised by a fox. No one could catch her bc the fox would obviously run away when people came around and avoided traps, thus Mercy learned these things as well.

Until she got big enough that the adult fox started becoming aggressive and trying to get rid of her. So the nurses started feeding her scraps of what they would make that night. And slowly over time she became the hospital’s unofficial mascot. Everyone knew who Mercy was and loved her. But no one could take her in for one reason or another.

Insert: younger Tats who just moved out for the first into the tiny house they just finished building and had been mentioning getting a pet.

So I was bombarded with people asking me to take her in and I thought why not. So Mercy was caught, my mother sent me a pic of her cut all to pieces with a very annoyed looking young Mercy being held. Mercy was boarded at the vet until everything was settled at my house and I had all the stuff. Then she was moved into the house and been living with her ever since.

Which brings me to Peppa…

Mercy picked her out. I had nothing to do with her being chosen other than signing some paperwork. Mercy apparently bonded with her at the vets office and would get very upset if separated from her for to long.

I only knew of Peppa as the “ugly kitten no one wanted.” Because she was the only tortie in a litter of silver tabby kittens. She was also the only short hair amongst a bunch of long haired kittens. All of her siblings had been adopted or claimed and she was left at the vet.

Until Mercy decided she wanted a sibling and claimed her. Lmao.

tats! tats i LOVE this! i love that you've ended up with a Buy One Get One Free situation!

good job miss mercy for bringing miss peppa into tat's life! also, shame on the people that called peppa ugly! look at her little face! she's not ugly! she's a baaaaaaaaayyyyyybeeeeee! i love them both so much oh my god.

i'm sure i've told you all how i ended up with my creechurs but if i haven't i can!

mango i picked up as a kitten back in july 2020 after my mum and sister started getting Concerned about my Mental Health Situation during the pandemic (it was... Not Good). i say i picked mango. i did not pick mango. she scaled me like a tree to sit on my shoulder and shriek my ear. the people with the kittens asked me three times if i was sure i wanted her because they had sweeter kittens and i refused to let her go because i liked how spicy she was. some people (the people who have been scratched and bitten by her) would say that was a mistake. i say that they need to deal with the fact that mango is selective.

charlie came to live with me in november 2021. technically i only have joint custody of charlie as he does belong to one of my friends. but charlie came to live with me because my friend's middle aged cat absolutely could not stand charlie when he was a kitten and so i offered to take him so my friend could still see his boy whenever he wants. so at least once a month my friend comes over and spends the day with charlie. it's very sweet.

dolly-ollie is my most recent creechur. you are all probably aware that in febuary this year dolly-ollie was only supposed to stay with me for a few days while my sister moved house. which she did. and then my sister never picked her back up. since then some family drama has gone down so i guess dolly-ollie is staying with me forever!

[xenon-demon]

med student steve and nurse eddie who is sick of his shit please <3 from wip wednesday i know it's not wednesday anymore but plz

yessssss i love this AU so much because it's just me projecting onto steve and daydreaming about Eddie Munson, Certified Hot Nurse™

also don't worry i have very little free time and am also australian so for me, WIP wednesday is a state of mind, not an actual time frame lmao

Snippet for you under the cut!

Shaking off the black cloud currently hanging over him, Steve finally lays eyes on the person trying to get his attention. A nurse is leaning over the desk of the nurse’s station a few meters away to look straight at Steve, and– wow, okay. Steve knows damn well what his type is, the kind of person and style he goes weak in the knees for, but this guy is aggressively punching every single one of Steve’s buttons. He’s got dark, curly hair that’s done up in a bun, some small strands of hair hanging out to frame the guy’s face. It gives Steve an eyeful of the guy’s killer jawline and the jewellery glinting in his ears – studs, of course, they are on the job, but at a glance Steve can see at least a couple in each ear. The guy’s arms are spread out on the desk in front of him, and Steve can feel his brain freeze at the sight of dark ink poking out from under the guy’s scrubs. He forces himself to look up and away from those (tempting, deliciously tempting) arms and into the nurse’s face – and okay, that’s not much better. The way this guy is looking at him, big brown eyes locked onto Steve’s face, he feels like he’s getting sucked in.

“Sorry?” Steve says, taking a moment to blink and regain his composure. He hopes to God he doesn’t look as flustered and distressed as he feels. “Are you talking to me?”

“Yup,” the nurse says, popping the p. He gestures at the sample bag Steve’s holding, with a few different vials and one syringe of blood inside, as he continues. The smile he gives Steve is almost apologetic as he says, “Pathology isn’t going to take those bloods from you, sweetheart. Not like that, at least.”

“Excuse me?” Steve instinctively bristles at the pet name, the way it just drips off this guy’s tongue. Just like that, the black cloud is back. He crosses the distance over to the nurse’s desk. “What’s wrong with them? They’ve all been labelled properly, and signed.”

“Well…” The nurse says, drawing out the word. Steve feels himself start to frown, just the tiniest bit. “You left the needle on your blood gas.” With a couple of fingers, the nurse points to the offending syringe in Steve’s sample bag. Sure enough, the needle is still attached to the syringe full of blood, the sharp end embedded in a small piece of foam.

Steve frowns even deeper. “My intern told me it’s fine like this.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me.” The guy grins and rolls his eyes before giving Steve a ‘what can you do’ kind of expression. “It’s a common mistake to make, actually, since they don’t really explain this stuff officially, but-”

“Listen,” Steve interrupts, gritting out the word between his teeth. He’s sure this nurse, whoever he is, has more important things to do than patronize him. Steve sure as fuck isn’t going to stand here and be made fun of while this guy takes his sweet-ass time to get to his point. “I’m pretty sure my intern knows what they’re talking about, seeing as they’re, you know, a doctor. If you really want to be helpful”–Steve’s eyes flick down to read the nurse’s name badge–“Eddie, then you can point me in the direction of the specimen drop-off.”

Eddie actually rears back at that, straightening up and pulling his arms back so he’s holding on to the very edge of the desk instead of casually leaning over the top of it. If Steve were having a better day, he might feel bad about it. As it is, all Steve feels is a sick sense of satisfaction at the way Eddie’s face has shuttered off, his eyes no longer shining the way they were a moment ago.

“It’s that way,” Eddie says bluntly, pointing back in the direction Steve came. His voice has lost all the character, the theatricality that he spoke with a minute ago. “Turn left once you step out of this ward and follow that hallway straight down.”

“Thanks,” Steve says, trying very hard not to feel like an asshole. He almost succeeds.

Eddie just grunts in acknowledgement. He gives Steve a quick once-over and says, “Good talk,” in a tone that clearly states it was anything but.

As he strides off towards the specimen drop-off, Steve can’t help but agree.

[femmesandhoney]

nothing is harder to deal with than convincing my mom i don't think she's stupid. my mom is so smart, she's a very talented nurse and knows a lot about medical stuff and nature stuff and general adult stuff and i see her as a great wealth of wisdom and knowledge and i'm lucky she's my mom. the problem is, even ever since i was younger, she's decided i'm extremely booksmart. and while that's semi true, she acts like it's impossible that i'm her daughter because "she has no clue where i get my smarts". and as i've grown up, i've seen how freaking insecure she is about her intellectual abilities because of me seemingly finding school very easy and just having a lot of passion for academics. i don't know when she started feeling bad about herself because of me, but she now reflects this by always thinking i'm trying to talk over her, that i'm a know-it-all and think she knows absolutely nothing, etc etc. it's like she's simultaneously very proud of me and what i've achieved because i'm her daughter, but like resents me for it when i do just try and share information or speak about things i actually know a lot about lmao, like social topics. that's not even me trying to be like actually you're an idiot, but like sorry i do recognize the areas i know you're unfamiliar with and me even lightly mentioning something to deepen the conversation sends her into aggravated spirals. it's like i can't even try to have deeper conversations with her about topics i'm literally studying because that signals to her "oh my daughter thinks i'm stupid and don't know anything about this so my opinion doesn't matter" but like i can't even finish my own thought before she's upset and has decided i think she's wrong, does this even make sense. and i'm sure there were many the times especially as a teenager i was actively being an annoying shit just trying to show i knew some stuff, but like it's been so many years since i was like fifteen please stop resenting me for my academic abilities and achievements it's getting so tiring.

[punkwixes]

i guess a better life update is like

so i’m graduating this spring. it took me a while to get an internship + i got rejected from the first one i applied to. that was okay, though, because it was smth specific that only took One student in each department, so like 4 students total, and you had to specially apply to it. i found another internship actually working for the school itself, which i’m pleased with. it’s very close to my home, and i can get there easily. they’re very casual about dress code too, so i dyed my hair again earlier this month :3

i quit working for the nursing home like 6 months ago, after almost 6 YEARS of being employed there. it was pretty on the spot lmao. we got new management that sucked + a resident started screaming at me and i was just like. well. i’m done.

currently: unemployed! or “full-time student” according to, like, my taxes or w/e. contemplating applying to some stores in the area but not too worried about it. money isssss pretty tight rn, but luckily i was able to save a LOT over the pandemic so i’ll be okay until i graduate and have to start paying back those student loans. i would like to think i’m pretty good at budgeting and money management, luckily.

ummm wedding is happening in may of next year, hopefully. move is happening ????? idk whenever it works for both of us. it’s gonna be scary but i can’t complain or worry about it too much because my wife already did that move Alone, so , like,

made this post because i was just thinking about like, idk what the gap will be between graduating & moving — not really worried about it Too much, because i know that’s smth we will figure out later haha. but i was thinking about how it’s smth we will figure out because i am Acutely aware of what happened when shit got bad in june 2017, where i was going “i’ll be moving out soon, i can’t get a job NOW!” and then i didn’t move out till december 2017. but then i was thinking about how i haven’t really talked about my life Extensively here since all that happened — maybe a bit, but most of it happens in dms (hi jess) (the ONLY person i use the tumblr messenger for) or in my discord server(s?) lmao.

and i realized that i have a lot of people (relatively, i guess.) who have been following me since i was like. 15? 16? and who maybe saw all that go down but don’t know what’s happening now.

anyways. on that front. my parents and i have… idk. kind of a relationship? not really sure. they have more of a relationship to me than i have to them, which is funny. they text me about every other day, but i don’t really answer that often. they know if they make negative commentary abt anything i’m doing they’ll just lose contact with me for good. they know i’m gay & that i’m getting married, and they’re Forced to be supportive Or Else, which i also find funny. they’re not attending my wedding though, On God.

had a weird thing happen a while back where my mom apologized for like. a lot of stuff. for the homophobia, for Some of the physical abuse she did, for some of the physical abuse & other abuse my dad & brother did to me. on their behalf, i guess? idk, being apologized to doesn’t really mean anything to me — or it didn’t, for a long time; i’ve only recently had Moments where someone apologized to me and i felt that it meant a lot — so i just felt weird about it. she was crying really hard, so i know that she knows that it was Bad. i still wish i could impart on her or on other people who don’t believe me Exactly what it was like, but i can’t.

for a large part it doesn’t really affect me, other than like, a desire to bury my head in the sand rather than Confront anything negative. so like. it doesn’t make it better but what i’m trying to say is like… idk, i’m doing fine, it could be way worse.

i guess i’m just biding my time until graduation. i almost wish i was working, because it feels like time passed a lot faster when i had work looming over me every two days. my class schedule for the next week is… fun…. i have a class from 2-4 and 6-8 on mondays, and then class from 6-8 on wednesdays. my fourth class is just my internship credit, and i don’t really need any more classes [that are offered in the fall].

so i’ll have plenty of free time, which is nice. i want to do more around the house, helping w upkeep and stuff. i have housemates & friends who i Love, which is not smth i would have expected like five years ago. so. time flies, i guess.

[strangefellows]

Get ready for the great american novel

Atsushi, Chuuya, Arjuna, Nightingale, Moran, P5 Makoto

LMAO NO PLEASE GIVE ME MORE FEED ME

First impression

Atsushi: awwwwwwww babey

Chuuya: oh god oh fuck he's my type shit

Arjuna: huh! indian servant! i know literally nothing about indian mythology beyond names of gods/goddesses, so Okay I Guess

Nightingale: SHE'S WHAT CLASS NOW???? WHAT??????

Moran: MTP version? Like, "oh fuck he's my type huh"

Makoto: Oh. Oh god. It's just me. Mortifying ordeal time....

Impression now

Atsushi: AWWWWW BABEY X100 he's a precious angel with so much trauma and deserves to be protected, but also baby stop relying on Dazai so much.

Chuuya: HE'S STILL MY TYPE and I love him a lot and the concept of Arahabaki is fucking fascinating. There's a lot of potential there, but also I just. Love this bitch ass tiny mafioso.

Arjuna: He's not one of my favorite Servants, but he has his very cute moments as someone very serious or trying to be serious who gets dragged into Bullshit as not so above it all. His irrational rivalry with Karna is hilarious.

Nightingale: What the fuck do you mean she was this fucking weird in real life??? But also she's very fun, if terrifying.

Moran: I need to catch up on MTP but I still love him, and in general he's one of the more fascinating bit parts in the Holmes stories and has a lot of potential for fun.

Makoto: WE STAN A QUEEN. She's amazing. I love her. She's like me only ballsier, I wish I had her in high school.

Favorite moment

Atsushi: Probably either him rescuing Kyouka the first time on the train, or him beating the absolute mcfuck out of Fitzgerald. Be brave little tiger! Oh also him wrecking Shibusawa.

Chuuya: THE ENTIRE DRAGON FIGHT IN DEAD APPLE CHANGED MY LIFE PERMANENTLY. But also, Fifteen was so good.

Arjuna: I'm not counting Godjuna, so probably him showing up in events to be overly serious and straight man and failing.

Nightingale: Her speech to Cu Alter at the end, her Santa event, her being so unamused with Dantes.

Moran: OH GOD IT'S BEEN A WHILE SINCE I READ MTP....but his arc with his former army stuff was really good.

Makoto: Her awakening for sure, also her all out attack makes me giddy I love the freezeframe.

Idea for a story

Atsushi: Honey get a vacation. Go to the beach. Do normal teenager things.

Chuuya: exploring Arahabaki in venues other than Stormbringer, hellyeah.

Arjuna: YOU WILL TELL ME ABOUT YOUR BROTHERS IN THE FATEVERSE YOU NERD

Nightingale: Interactions with the rest of the Chaldea Nursing Staff would be very fun.

Moran: I HAVE NO IDEA WHOOPS

Makoto: As with all my P5 answers for this, More Akechi Interactions, I want them to talk about her dreams for commissionership and how she understands forcing yourself into a Perfect Little Japanese Teenager box to fit in and meet expectations.

Unpopular opinion

Atsushi: I don't know opinions on him? Whoops.

Chuuya: While I don't mind the stuff Stormbringer did as much as most people seemed to, I do agree that I think Asagiri leaned too much into Nasu's "magic is computer science" mindset.

Arjuna: ....I don't have enough opinions on him oops.

Nightingale: What are opinions on her even?

Moran: .....I don't like BBC Sherlock. Fullstop.

Makoto: I think she needs to really reflect on what her dream means considering her relationships with Akira "burned hard by the justice system" Kurusu and knowing Akechi and what he went through, and she needs to be aware of what it means to be a police officer.

Favorite relationship

Atsushi: More than him and Dazai, I love him and Kyoka and the rest of the ADA and the found family needs to get explored more.

Chuuya: SOUKOKU AAAAAAA----

Arjuna: Obviously him and Karna, lets go boys.

Nightingale: I don't ship it, but her and Dantes' thing they've got going where he calls her Mercedes as a nickname and he thinks she's fucking insane -- not that he's not, but not in that way -- it's hilarious.

Moran: Him and James and the rest of the Moriarty team are always good.

Makoto: Her relationship with all the PT is very good! If I didn't ship shuake as hard as I did I'd definitely like her and Joker together.

Favorite headcanon

Atsushi: Teach this boi how to do normal teen stuff please, he doesn't know things most teenagers should.

Chuuya: Not sure! I don't have many headcanons.

Arjuna: Uhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Nightingale: She can will and HAS knocked people out to make them at least get five minutes rest. She's terrified even the other Berserkers by this point.

Moran: God I cannot remember.

Makoto: I don't think I have too many headcanons for her!

[purplesurveys]

1611

The detail survey!

You should answer all the questions with detail.

In detail…how did you meet your crush/boyfriend/lover/etc.: Sorry to miss the point of this survey right off the bat lol, but I don’t have anyone special at the moment. Maybe it’s a realization that I got a little bit too late, maybe it’s the self-love that I’m trying to nurture and protect these days, maybe it’s trauma, quite frankly it might just be my asexuality coming into play, but I quite like being on my own.

In detail…what are you wearing? I have on a gray sweatshirt and the pajama shorts from a pajama set I have. The top I’ve actually had on all day (it was what I put on this morning, when we were still in Tanay), and just didn’t feel the need to change out of since I’ve been cold this entire time. I’ll switch to a new top tomorrow morning before work so I don’t feel icky.

In detail…what are you doing tomorrow? I have work tomorrow and I imagine I’ll be pretty busy and on do-not-disturb mode at home since Monday is typically the most hectic and exhausting day of the week; as for specifics, I do have three meetings already slated for the day – that can always change though. Jimin’s collab with Taeyang is coming out tomorrow afternoon too so at least I have something to look forward to! I’m already expecting to zone out of work for around a half hour or so so that I can properly listen to the song and fangirl a bit with friends. Lastly, I do have a client pitch on Tuesday so I should spend some time practicing my lines and slides.

In detail…what did you do today? This morning I woke up still in our accommodation in Tanay – this quaint, quiet spot in the middle of the mountains and streams and nature, with domes for rooms. It’s basically a place that’s meant for you to disconnect from the world; wifi was weak and every single spot was devoid of mobile signal, and no TV in the room either. 

I had pancakes and a couple of hotdogs for breakfast (super good!), then my sister and I stayed in our room right after since it was raining all morning. We had already spent so much saliva the day before just talking and playing whatever random game we could think of (again, weak wifi and no signal) lol, but this morning our Gen Z asses couldn’t take it anymore so I finally opened YouTube and pulled her to watch a few episodes of Watcher’s Dish Granted with me hahaha even though each video took ages to load. By noon we had checked out, and was on the road for 2-3 hours. Before going home though we headed to this Singaporean place where I had laksa and a few sticks of street food; right after that we picked up the dogs from the local dog hotel, and then FINALLY we were on our way home. Spent a few hours watching BTS content, and maybe around a half hour catching up on work backlog, and now I’m here doing this survey before I turn in.

In detail…what did you do/will you do on your birthday? For my last birthday I spent it mostly at home and didn’t really do anything other than lie on the couch and, surprise surprise!, watch BTS stuff. I received a bucket hat from Bea, a shirt (and a couple of vape pods, because they know me so well lmao) from Andi, and a Starbucks drink from my former co-worker that day. That evening, I took my family out for ramen to celebrate. 

Then that same weekend, my friends and I went to Zambales as a little treat I had for them – it was also our first beach outing since pre-pandemic so we were all excited about that. In the evening, Hans and I had a drinking game while watching his brother’s live volleyball game, I took a few shots of gin from this other group who was having a jamming session, and basically I ended up wasted enough that I stumbled while walking down some steps and sprained my left ankle. Friends had to carry me to bed where I fell asleep immediately, then the next morning another group caught me limping and ever so generously offered to nurse my foot hahaha.

In detail…how does your best friend look like? She has big brown eyes, rosy cheeks, and a beauty mark on the left side of her face, a little bit above her cheekbone. She currently has brown highlights with her black hair, which stops just right underneath her collarbones. She has a semi-slim build and is slightly taller than me.

In detail… what was your last kiss like? Who was it with? It was with my ex-partner when she visited me briefly during the peak of the pandemic. Letting other people in your home raised alarm bells at the time so we spent the whole time outside, just chatting and catching up. On the kiss, I believe it had been a simple goodbye peck, happening right before she left. I don’t even know why she visited and how our parents allowed us to hang out given the situation?? I think she came to show me her new car or something like that. Idk. My memory’s been doing a fantastic job erasing memories of her that I don’t even know if this account is still accurate at all.

In detail…how was your first kiss this year? I have not had a kiss in 2023. Or 2022 or 2021, for that matter.

In detail…what are you looking forward to? The soonest thing would be the theatrical screening of the Busan concert! It’s happening in cinemas worldwide, including the Philippines, so I’m just super excited to still be able to be excited about something BTS-related given that they are on hiatus and that the boys are enlisting in the military one by one. I’ve already been briefing my friends to go for the Feb 4 screening since that’s when they’ll be having that worldwide lightstick event where I believe all of the Army Bombs will be synced for the screenings happening that day.

In detail…how long have you been with your boyfriend? I don’t have a significant other.

In detail…how does your best female friend look like? I already described her the best way I could a few questions ago.

In detail…when did you first listen the song you are listening to? That’s a good question. I have no idea, but I imagine it must have been around May or June of 2021 right when I was starting to dig deeper into the BTS black hole. It’s an unreleased song and a solo of one of the members (Winter Bear), and I’m guessing my first encounter with it came a little after going through the band’s ~official discography.

In detail…what are you doing besides this? I’m going to sleep, man. I earned it lmao. I can’t wait to pass out tonight.

In detail…why are you doing this? Because nobody else asks these questions in a normal conversation, and it’s helpful to have an outlet where you can, like, unload for the day or answer questions that can sometimes lead you to new discoveries about yourself. It’s a journal, essentially.

In detail…what were you doing before this? I was working and finalizing the last few slides in my upcoming pitch presentation so that I don’t have to worry as much about it anymore tomorrow. I also played with the dogs for a little bit and let them play with one another. In detail…why did you take the last pic you took? I took it because Cooper and Agi were in such a hilarious position during their playtime and I didn’t want to miss out on taking a photo of it. Usually Cooper is the one who ends up on his back while Agi messes with him, but this evening it was Agi lying down with Cooper sniffing him all over. Immediately took a bunch of photos because that never happens between the two.

In detail…who was the last person you hugged and why? Dev. It was just a goodbye hug, nothing more to it. I guess I do hug her harder than my other co-workers; she lost her mom (and her only parent) last year, so I have a natural instinct to look out for her and to basically be softer and more caring, even protective, around her.

In detail…did you like this survey? It was fun, thanks!

[razzle-zazzle]

Use this as an infodump button and tell us all about whatever ur working on rn :)

"I don't want to get stuck in the cycle of constantly making more AUs. I want to focus on the stuff that I have."

I say, as I add a section to the docs for the Terraria thing because brainrot over the character arcs i have created in my head have me by the throat.

I don't even have a proper tag for this yet 😩 I'm just putting it under concept until I know what to call it lmao

putting this under a cut because it got long

Anyway 💅. Thinks about Morris respawning post Wall of Flesh fight. Thinks about the group spending the next several days dicking about because dammit, they've come this far, they deserve a break. Adam and Sam buy from the golfer and set up some funky little courses. Lizzie and Frazie figure out how to throw a party. Gisu continues to fuck around/find out with shimmer and wires and works together with Frazie to build a convoluted fireworks display. Gisu and Morris make an Announcement Box and bug everyone with it. Dion and Morris go to a minecart track that Sam found and dick around for an hour. Norma reads through every entry in the bestiary. Sam adds little notes and annotations to the bestiary. They decorate their base. They redecorate their base. Lizzie makes a little campfire setup for smores and scary stories.

Thinks about the group interacting with the NPCs. Gisu and the Tinkerer have a fun little mentorship where the Tinkerer helps her exploit the mechanics of the world while she rambles about psitanium-based technology to him. Dion's terrible at fishing but finds it relaxing so the Angler ends up almost like a little-brother figure to him. Lizzie chats up the Clothier and trades Strange Plants with the Dye Trader. The Tavernkeep won't give alcohol to any of the group because he recognizes that they're underage, but they're free to come into his little bar for nonalcoholic beverages and someone to chat with. Sam pranks any Traveling Merchant who comes through, and has a good rapport with the Nurse and Arms Dealer. Norma and Adam make small-talk with every Traveling and Skeleton Merchant they encounter. The NPCs have enough free will to recognize that the group are all kids and to interact with them all as more than just vendors.

Thinks about Frazie grappling onto the Destroyer and managing to somehow just barely control it like it's a giant horse. Thinks about Gisu and Norma both becoming friends with the Steampunker for vastly different reasons. Thinks about the chaos of a Pirate Invasion plus a Blood Moon being one of the few small things that Hardmode smacks the group in the face with to end their brief respite.

Thinks about Plantera's defeat and Dion & Norma's push to go after the next boss now being what causes rising tensions in the group to explode into a full fight. Thinks about the conflict being driven by Lizzie and Morris wanting to take a Goddamn Break, We Can't Keep Going At This Pace Guys, but the entire group also wants to go home sooner rather than later. Thinks about the conflict splitting everyone up because as emotionally equipped as some of them are, they're all teenagers and this world has been putting them in a pressure cooker ever since they got here. Thinks about Sam chilling on her own in the Hallow and Dion throwing himself at the temple and Adam trying to get everyone together and Lizzie taking her break alone in the snow and Morris keeping the book closed because they do need a fucking break, goddamn it.

Thinks about Frazie and Norma challenging Duke Fishron alone and getting thrashed, and that being the point where Frazie realizes that Lizzie was right: as much as she wants to keep going, she can't keep up at this pace. She needs a break. They all do. Thinks about Norma wanting to keep going because that's how she's coping. Thinks about Sam encountering the Empress and dragging Dion out of his little spiral in the Jungle to beat it. Thinks about the group slowly gravitating back together from Sam and Adam's efforts, because if everything in this world is out to kill them then they might as well stick together. Thinks about the little character moments as they slowly resolve the conflict in the group bit by bit. Thinks about them finally going after Golem as a group, now, after working together to gather resources and prepare. Thinks about the slow buildup from first spawning in the world and bickering and working together and figuring things out to the team confronting Moonlord as a team.

Thinks about my silly little "let's throw the interns + Dion & Frazie into a Terraria-esque world and see what happens!" idea and quietly brainrots,,,

[stella-lol]

this is awesome! yay! for some reason I forgot to write it, but my name is Stella (she/her). I'm a student here at QU, although I don't major software engineering anymore. for those who are curious about the more serious things I do, I generally participate in a bit of marketing for the university, talking about trans people and stuff. mostly, I do a lot of advocacy for trans/enbies to our med students here; I've spoken at panels in front of faculty and staff, I've acted out medical cases for about a hundred students, and a bunch of other stuff. I've also been invited to help shape the medical curriculum to be more inclusive for next fall. it's really fun and you meet a ton of other amazing people in the process. but when I'm not doing any of that, I'm doing silly stuff like this. I am just a silly little girl

edit: also I figured out how to read reblogs lol

thank you all so much for the support <3 there's so many nice comments

some people ask why I had that sticker on my school laptop. I didn't have many good stickers at first and I asked another queer friend what ones I should put on it. she told me I should put a BD sticker on it, because nobody would ever be able to call me out on it. and nobody did! until now lmao

the rest of the stickers were just random ones I got for free from some other students a while back. edit 2: yes I have programming socks

no I'm not Michael Reeves for fuck's sake. also this photo is a few months old, I look slightly more masc in it. I've started HRT and grown out my hair a bit since so I look more fem/androgynous cuz that's kinda how I wanna look.

yes compsci does trans your gender

no I'm not still doing compsci, I'm going into nursing because it aligns better with my personality and goals now

yes, this school is somewhat accepting, moreso than most I think. It's a cis white girl majority, but there's a lot of work to make the campus more inclusive. for one, they'll give you an ID card with any name you want on it, and you can update your name and email address even if you haven't changed it legally. I like that a lot. also we have big clubs like GSA and dedicated housing for first-year LGBTQ+ students if they choose to want to live with other cool (read: gay) people. I've never met a professor who hasn't been supportive of me.

Hello! I saw you wrote abut that sponsored instagram post with me in it. It's not edited, for anyone wondering - it was an inside joke at first when I figured out that it actually made it into the university's marketing, but I'm surprised to see how far it spread. Thank you for spreading the gay word of our university!

The girl on the left is my friend Momo. For anyone wondering what I was doing on that computer at the time, I'm pretty sure I was playing Minecraft. We had a hackathon and I was just screwing around but they took a picture of me because trans flag lol. I don't mind it though!

Happy trans day of visibility too c:

P.S. I have no idea how tumblr works lol

youre a legend fuck the troops i salute YOU happy TDOV to you and anyone reading this

[brewsterispunkk]

la que amo.

 part ii.

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader, frankie morales x f!veteran!reader, frankie morales x f!spanish speaking!reader

warnings: 18+ mature. Idiots in love, sick reader, mentions of ptsd, drunk santi & frankie (they deserve their own warning), some dirty talk, steamy make out sesh. (No smut this time :/ I’m working up to it LMAO)

A/N: i hope this doesn’t disappoint. The love I got km part one was SO SO unexpected but welcomed and I’m so grateful so here j go my goblins. i was originally gonna make this just a one part fic but then i realized it would be a BEHEMOUTH so here we are with part two. Work that frankie is reading is Pablo Neruda’s translation of Romeo & Juliet, which is linked in part 1. Lmk if u want added to my TAGLIST!❤️

WC: like 6k maybe??

summary: frankie takes care of you when you’re sick, or: you’ve been keeping a secret from frankie for a long time, which ultimately results in an accidental confession. 

ii.

When you’d previously claimed not to keep many secrets from Frankie Morales, it might have been a lie. 

Well, not a complete lie. He knew the stuff that mattered about you; He knew your favorite shows, your favorite foods, your go-to cocktail, even your credit card pin. He knew the deep stuff too--and he’d been there for a lot of them too--he knew what you went through during your time as an army medic, before you met him. He knew your tells; the way your body would stiffen up when your mind went back to your time in the service, or the way you’d wring your hands when some asshole at the bar was making you uncomfortable. He knew how to calm you down from night terrors, and how to make your tea just right after a particularly bad one. 

Frankie Morales knew nearly every gritty detail about you, except for two very important things: the first being that you spoke Spanish, and the second being that you were in love with him. 

To be fair to Frankie, it’s not that he was unobservant. None of the boys except Benny knew that you were, in fact, bilingual like Frankie and Santi, and it was an accident in itself that he’d found out. 

It’d been a regular Saturday night at the seedy bar that your group would frequent. Will was the designated driver that night, so he sat comfortably back in his seat at the corner booth nursing his coke, while Benny went up to the bar to get the next round. 

You were celebrating tonight: It was a fight night and Benny had won his fifth match in a row. Frankie and Santi were already comfortably tipsy, giggling and mumbling to the other in Spanish back and forth. 

Picking up a fry, you chuckled at the two, who seemed like they were in their own little world where they found everything to be hilarious. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have thought them lovers, as Frankie swung his arm over Pope’s shoulders, leaning down to quietly quip something into his ear. 

Snorting at whatever Frankie said, Santi burst out laughing. Beside you, Will rolled his eyes. 

“Care to share with the class, you two?” The blonde man raised both eyebrows in feigned annoyance.

He was only half kidding, that much you knew. Will was a man who liked control. Who thrived on it. Especially since he’d decided to get help for his PTSD following the break-up with his ex-fiancée. It had been something you noticed about him; He had a fear of losing control again. It seemed like a fear like that carried over to even mundane things like this--your two dumbass friends snickering behind your backs. 

“No,” Pope giggled, sounding a bit like a teenage girl. “Quieres compartir algo, hermano?” 

“Nope,” Frankie snorted. “Top secret stuff here, Miller. Wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“What’s top-secret?” Benny returned, carrying a tray of three beers for the boys, and one salty dog for you. No matter how much they made fun of you, you didn’t care; they’d never get you to enjoy that toenail juice they called beer, especially not in the name of “masculinity.” No, you’d stick with your vodka and grapefruit juice. 

“Oh nothing, just whatever tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum here were talking about in a language none of us can understand.” You emphasized that last part, giving Frankie a playful, pointed look. 

He looked beautiful like this, you thought, bathed in the neon light of the bar signs. His eyes looked impossibly dark here, crinkled around the edges from laughter. You loved seeing him like this: light, carefree. It was such a difference from the Frankie that you first met at the VA. That weary, battle-torn man who’d come up to your front desk telling you how he’d gotten back six months ago and that he hadn’t been sleeping, that whenever he closed his eyes all he saw was what happened to him over there. Now, the smile he wore made your heart leap up to your throat in a way it shouldn’t when looking at your best friend. 

His hair was grown out, chocolate strands fluffy and curling around his ears the way that they did when he’d just washed it. You knew that if you got too close to it, you’d be able to smell the fresh, earthy scent of his shampoo. The thought sent a thrill through your gut. 

Your eyes traced the curve of his forehead; the soft brown tufts that fell just above his eyebrows out from under the baseball cap he wore that he never took off no matter how many times you or the boys gave him shit about it. 

He was so pretty it hurt.

You knew these weren’t normal feelings to have about your best friend. And for a while, you’d tried to curb them, to stop them entirely. For two weeks, when you’d just realized just how bad you had it for Frankie, you tried to cut him off completely. Cold turkey. You cited work or family drama as a reason for your absence at support group meetings, dinners with the boys, or your usual coffee dates. But, while you’d tried to banish him from your mind entirely, Frankie would come back in your dreams. You’d wake up, sweaty and panting, with his name on your tongue and a familiar heat between your legs. That was when you’d had enough and decided to just deal with it. It was obvious that cutting Frankie off completely wouldn’t get these feelings for him to leave entirely, and you’d rather yearn for him as your friend than be haunted by dreams of him for the rest of your life.

There had been a time when you’d thought you’d finally summoned the courage to tell him how you felt. To throw caution to the wind and just say it, but that had been just after he’d met her.

Caroline. And he’d seemed so happy telling you about this new girl he’d met that you just couldn’t interfere. He deserved to be happy, and you wouldn’t get in the way of that.

That was eight months ago, and he’d just told you and the boys of his plans to propose to her last month. None of you really loved Caroline. She’d always come off a bit shallow, a bit condescending--especially towards Frankie. But when you’d tried to talk to him about it, he’d shut you down saying, “That’s just her personality.”

And collectively, you’d all decided to drop it. You didn’t have to love her, but you did love Frankie, and if Caroline was what made him happy, then you’d be happy for him. And that was that. 

You’d tried to push the glaring reality of your feelings for him away--it was too painful. Looking at him now though, something twisted in your chest. 

“--Right! I mean, what do you think, Ace?” Benny nudged your shoulder, breaking you from your trance. 

You rolled your eyes at the nickname, it had been given to you after a few particularly bad hands of Black Jack a few years ago and had stuck since then.

“What do I think about what?” You asked, raising your drink to your lips, grateful for the strong tang of the alcoholic citrus on your tongue. Something to take your mind away from the man across from you. 

“About these two pricks talkin’ about us all the time in a language we don’t know.” Will crossed his arms and leaned over the table, a wicked smirk on his lips. 

“Oh please, Miller. You’re just mad we speak two languages and you only speak one.” Frankie laughed, a shit-eating grin on his flushed cheeks as he said it. 

It was something that the two lifelong friends liked to hold over the rest of your heads, all in good fun of course, but it made this little secret of yours all the more fun. So far, you’d successfully avoided exposing your bilingual secret to any member of the group, and you were looking to keep it that way; at least until you could devise the perfect reveal. 

“Whatever, man.” Will rolled his eyes. “You two have fun in your little two-person secret society.”

“Yeah,” Benny bellowed, a bit too loudly. It seemed the liquor had begun to get to him too. “We don’t need ‘em, right Ace?”

He threw an arm around you, pressing a sloppy too-long kiss to your forehead in the annoying, endearing way that Benny always did. You feigned disgust, playfully trying to push him away but failing. When he went to tase your sides, you descended into a fit of giggles, but didn’t miss the all-of-a-sudden irritated expression on Frankie’s face. 

You didn’t quite catch what he mumbled, but you did hear a muted, “coño,” in the middle of the sentence.

“What was that, Cat?” Benny raised his beer to his lips, his arm still around your shoulders in a brotherly manner. 

“Yeah, Frank, do share.” Will raised an eyebrow.

Frankie shifted, boots scuffing across the floor under the booth, his eyes holding yours. He had that guarded look on his face that he rarely ever let slip; You couldn’t read him. Pope cleared his throat. 

“Nothing,” Frankie mumbled, passing a fleeting glare at Benny before moving his eyes to his beer. 

Pope scoffed, clamping a hand on the back of Frankie’s neck. 

“¡Anímate, hermano!” Frankie cast him a sidelong look, clearly still annoyed. “Esa trompa del pato es feo.”

“No más feo que tu,” Frankie muttered back.

Immediately you snorted, covering it with your hand as to not give yourself away. Will laughed, hands up in the air.

“Yeah, Im not even gonna pretend to know what that means.”

“Yeah…” Benny trailed off beside you. You turned to see his eyes already on you, sprinkled with mirth.

He knew.

“Yeah, me neither.” He suppressed a smile, looking more like a cat here than the golden retriever you knew him to be.

Shit.

Later, it was your turn to buy the drinks.

You walked your way up to the bar, leaning on it before asking the bartender for the usual. You felt his presence before you saw him.

“So, Spanish huh?” He asked. You let out a long breath.

“Ben-“

“I am impressed, Ace.” He smirked. “How have you managed to do it this long? Don’t you ever wanna jump in?”

You chuckled.

“Yeah, I guess.” You paused. “Sometimes. Although I’ve quite enjoyed watching them make fools of themselves. It’s fun eavesdropping. Especially when alcohol’s involved.”

“Huh.” He said. This might’ve been the first time you’d seen Benny dumbfounded.

“So are they really talking shit about us all the time?”

You laughed.

“No, no they’re not.” You assured. “Mostly what they talk about are inside jokes, and maybe a few digs at that awful haircut you got last year, but nothing serious.”

“Well,” he stretched, puffing out his chest. “Why haven’t you told anyone? I mean, what’s the point?”

He was looking at you keenly, curiously. You sighed, lifting an eyebrow.

“Tell me, Ben, if you had the chance to secretly listen in on every conversation this two have in Spanish without them knowing, would you give it up?”

“Touché.”

“You won’t tell them right?” You asked. You didn’t think he would, but still. You needed to be sure.

“Nah,” he said. “Why are you faking though, if you don’t mind my asking.”

You snorted.

“Because, I want to see the looks on their faces when I finally do tell them. Can you imagine how funny that shit’s gonna be?”

“Alright, Ace. Just tell me when you’re gonna do it. I wanna catch it on video. It’ll be classic.”

•••••••••••

Classic, Benny had said. That was nearly a year and a half ago, and you had yet to figure out a plan that would do the secret Justice.

In your defense, it wasn’t your fault it had taken you this long. At first, the problem had been figuring out a plan of attack; the perfect reveal.

But then, Colombia happened. And getting the boys back to themselves was the top priority. You couldn’t count the amount of times Frankie had asked you to stay over, calling you in the wee hours of the morning because of nightmares or because he couldn’t sleep. Benny had thrown himself into fights again, except this time it was more unhealthy and you all had to have an intervention. Will went back to therapy and convinced Frankie and eventually Benny to go too.

Pope was radio silent most of the time—sometimes he’d call, and he’d even been home for a holiday every now and then, but for the most part, Pope was Pope. Out galavanting who knows where doing God knows what. It was his way of dealing with things you supposed.

You’d all even managed to start up Friday night dinners again—it was hard at first with two empty seats, but you became used to the silence or the empty stares and managed to rebuild. Slowly but surely.

You’d had to miss last week’s Friday dinner unfortunately. You’d stayed home from work with a fever, and your symptoms had progressively gotten worse since then. It wasn’t until about 6:45 that night that you’d realized, brain foggy with DayQuil, that you’d forgotten to cancel.

It was Sunday now, and you were still down for the count. It wasn’t strep—you were sure of it, but it was still a nasty cold that brought you shivers and headaches. You’d been holed up in your apartment all weekend, practically glued to the couch, only getting up to feed your cat or to eat.

A knock drew you from your thoughts.

You jumped, not expecting anyone this late, nor at this time, as you were somewhat preoccupied.

Sniffing, you got up and began to slowly make your way to the door.

Another knock.

“Calm down, I’m coming!” You called. If someone was going to interrupt your rewatch of New Girl at this unreasonable hour, they could at least be patient enough to wait for you to open the door before attempting to bang it down.

“Hurry up, it’s pouring out here!” That deep rasp you’d recognize anywhere. “I have soup!”

Swinging open the heavy door, and moving aside, you gave an exasperated sigh.

“Frankie, the hell are you doing here? It’s 11:30.”

“Called off tomorrow.” He said, rubbing his hands together and breathing in them to warm them up. He shook off his rain jacket on the hard wood of your entry way before hanging it up on the rack.

“You’ll need a nurse if you’re gonna be back to normal by Wednesday.”

“Frank, you didn’t—“

“Oh shut up,” He took his hat off, which was also soaked from the downpour outside. “You’ve been there for me through everything. I know you’d do the same for me. You have done the same for me.”

You gave him a soft look, the familiar pang in your chest returning as you took in his damp hair and soulful eyes. The bag of takeout he’d brought was forgotten on the floor beside him.

“Besides,” he continued as you just stared. “I needed an excuse to call off. Doug’s been pissing me off recently.”

You snorted.

“Aha! There’s the real reason why you’re here. You’re using my illness to get out of work.”

“Har har har,” he mocked. “That’s enough, come here.”

His warm palms found your shoulders, and you could the heat through your tshirt. His tshirt. You’d stolen it years ago and never returned it. He guided you over to the kitchen before pressing his palm to your forehead.

You were too close. You thought. And not close enough.

You could feel his warm breath on the side of your cheek, and see nearly every wrinkle on his perfect face; from his worry lines to his crows feet.

You’d never grow tired of seeing him like this. You were certain. The tips of his hair were still damp and stuck together from the rain, his gaze serious. You imagined that this was how he must have looked when he was in the field. Eyes on the prize, laser focused in on the task at hand. Ever the soldier, your Frankie was.

“All good doc?” You asked, more whispered.

There was no one else home, but still, his gaze was too intense, the moment too charged for you to speak any louder.

His eyes met yours and his mouth opened, words half formed.

“I…” he stopped, trailed off, deep brown eyes still connected to yours.

His hand had moved from your forehead now, back to join his other one on your shoulder. His eyelashes curled upwards in an almost unfair way. He was too pretty. It wasn’t fair.

He cleared his throat, snapping your eyes from his.

“Yeah,” his voice caught. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re good. Fever’s gone down, I think. I’m gonna go warm up the soup.”

He doubled back to where he’d left the takeout, near the door. Your feet stayed rooted to the floor.

What was that?

Your mind was racing. Never had you seen Frankie so… starstruck?

No. No, that couldn’t be it. He didn’t think of you like that; he never had. It was foolish of you to even entertain that thought. You’d tried in the past to stop them from entering your head: these stupid, naive hopes of yours. They only caused you pain. Still, they sometimes slipped through, and you yearned to believe them.

“Okay.” You spoke to the empty kitchen.

“In bed, you!” He called from the other room, his deep voice booming through your space like it belonged there.

There were those thoughts again. You mentally chided yourself. Right. Bed.

You went down the hall to your room, which was, thank god, mostly clean. With a few days to yourself you’d managed to get at least something done. That something being deep cleaning your room for the first time in God knows when.

You were glad it wasn’t a mess—not that it would mind, Frankie had helped you move in to this place. He’d seen your room in every state: messy, clean, even empty. Still, you thought he’d be proud. He was always making fun of your messy room.

You settled into your bed, opting for a smaller blanket rather than getting under the covers—Frankie would take his customary spot at the foot of the bed while you ate or talked or did whatever else.

“Alright, cariño. I’ve got chicken noodle soup and Pablo Neruda to make you feel better.” He pushed open your door with that crooked grin on his face, whatever had happened in the kitchen already forgotten.

“Neruda?” You asked, your interest piqued. He knew of your soft spot for poetry. “Is that something you’ve picked up from the university?”

After Frankie had gone back to therapy and begun to work out the trauma, he’d decided to go back to college; He’d never actually gotten his degree, instead opting to enlist in the military. 20 odd years later, he’d finally decided to “fuck it” (as he so gracefully put it) and go back to school. You were proud of him. You all were.

He set the soup down before sitting at your desk (which doubled as your bedside table) and pulled out a thick textbook from the book bag he’d brought with him.

“Yeah,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “I never thought I’d be a poetry guy, but Neruda. Man, he had something to say. When I read his words, I can just understand it. It’s like he’s voicing something I’ve been trying to but couldn’t. I don’t know, that sounds stupid—“

“No it doesn’t!” You protested. “You know who you’re talking to. I’m a poetry fiend. I know exactly the feeling you’re talking about. That’s the beauty of words, Frank. They can give voice to things that you can’t.”

You turned and your eyes connected. He looked at you for a moment before closing his own eyes and giving you that same gentle smile that Frankie always did. Only this time he looked like he was stopping himself. Holding back.

“Yeah, cariño.” He smiled sardonically down at the book in his hands before sighing. “Now you need to get some food in you.”

“Frank, I’m really not—“ you tried to protest.

“Bullshit. Don’t try and act like you’ve eaten anything substantial in the fast few days. And no ramen does not count. You need to eat. Besides, I went and picked it up already, so it’ll just go to waste.”

“Hmm.” You eyed him, messy hair and all, sitting at your desk, arms crossed over his chest. His head was tilted sarcastically at you and you would’ve had a snarky comeback if it weren’t for his damn biceps. They flexed under his tshirt as he crossed his arms. You tore your gaze away; being caught checking out your best friend was the last thing you needed right now.

“Fine. But only if you read to me.” You raised and eyebrow. He looked at you like you’d grown a third head.

“Read to you?” He asked incredulously, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

“Yes, Frankie: read to me. I’m bored and you interrupted my New Girl rewatch. Besides, your voice is soothing.”

He huffed out a laugh.

“My voice is soothing?” He sounded cocky, pleased with himself. “Well , since you put it like that.”

You snorted. “Oh, shut up before I take it back.”

“Honey, you won’t even be able to understand this shit. It’s for my Spanish Lit. class.”

“Did I ask you if I could understand it, Morales?” You huffed.

“You really want me to read to you in a language you don’t understand?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Frankie, if you keep asking stupid questions, I could always put New Girl back on—“

“Alright, alright cariño, move your feet.” He flung your feet (less than gracefully) to the side and flopped on his stomach on the foot of the bed, turning through the book to find a passage.

You internally smirked; you knew that would work. Frankie notoriously hated New Girl. Hated it. He’d do anything over willingly watching it—-including reading you poetry.

While Frankie mumbled to himself while trying to pick a poem, you picked at the soup; your appetite hadn’t fully returned yet.

Instead you opted to stare at him: your frankie with his too-tight tshirts and messy hair. God, you’d give anything to keep him in your bed for forever.

You imagined him here sometimes. When your mind wandered before bed, or at work during a particularly bad day. You’d imagine his hands on you; big and warm and calloused, running up your thighs, your waist, your chest. You’d imagine him absolutely wrecked underneath you, in this very bed, eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back and mouth open. You imagined the sounds he’d make. You also imagined him sleepy. Engulfed in your covers, his bed head messily thrown across your pillow. You imagined tracing his face as he slept; the strong curve of his nose, his arched brows, petal-soft eyelids.

But those weren’t thoughts you were supposed to have about your best friend. And you’d tried to stop them.

But looking at him here now, in sweats and a tshirt, his body stretched lazily across your bed, it was getting harder and harder.

God, you had it bad.

Still, you pushed the familiar feeling in your chest down.

“So,” you asked. “What will you read to me?”

••••••••••

It must have been hours since he’d been reading.

The soup had long since been forgotten, and you had curled over on your side, facing the end of the bed. Facing him.

Bundled up in your blankets, your eyes had drifted shut a bit ago. The combination of his voice, the soup, the cold meds, and the rain had lulled you into a half-conscious state for awhile.

It had baffled you at how calm you were, with the storm raging outside. You’d never been a big fan of storms—ever since you were young. You hated them. As you grew, the near panic-attacks you’d get as a child mellowed into a mere pit of anxiety in your chest whenever the grey clouds rolled around. However now, tucked in your bed with the storm raging outside, you felt none of it. All you felt was Frankie’s presence next to you and the weight of your comforter.

Frankie was still sprawled out at the foot of your bed, now on his side facing you, one arm supporting his head, the other flipping carelessly through the book.

Slowly, you roused from your half-asleep nap. The deep rumble of his voice bringing you back to the service.

He was reading something; Shakespeare you think?

It’s beautiful. Everything about him is, but this.

The flowing, rolled syllables spoken in his deep timbre , mixed with the words of love they express made you fall in love with him all over again.

You kept your eyes closed, knowing he would grow sheepish if you woke up. You made sure to maintain your breathing and not move a muscle—not that that was a hard feat; Frankie had that effect on you. It was like you were under a sleeping spell and he was the enchanter—you were completely at his mercy.

“And…” he slowly trailed off, nearly whispering. “I think you’re finally asleep, cariño.”

His voice was so soft. It made your heart clench in your chest how much his mere voice affected you. You stayed still, not wanting to be caught pretending now.

A warm, dry hand caressed your cheek, making your breathing stall for a second.

He ran his fingers down the plane of your cheek, over your eyes, down your chin to the other cheek, before taking your other cheek softly, gently in his palm.

He held it there for a moment. The silence was palpable, and loud , the only sound being the sound of the rain against your window.

Frankie’s index came up to brush a stray strand of your hair out of your face and to the side. He held it there for a second, before dropping his hand.

He sighed, and your heart stalled in your chest.

He sounded almost heartbroken? No, that couldn’t be it. You scolded yourself again.

It wasn’t fair to Frankie or yourself to keep torturing yourself like this with wishful thinking.

“Goddamn, cariño.” He spoke—more whispered, sounding almost like he was in pain. “You are so beautiful.”

Your heart stopped. He continued speaking, still thinking you were asleep.

“Even sick, you’re so goddamn pretty. God, I hate seeing you like this, corazón.”

His hand moved to your own, grasping it for a moment, running his thumb over your palm. You prayed he couldn’t hear your own heartbeat growing louder by the second.

Your ears pounded.

Were you dreaming? Did he really just say that? What does he—

Your thoughts were interrupted by the clear of his throat, and the familiar flipping of shiny textbook pages.

“This one reminds me of you, cariño. I read it, and all I can see in my mind is you. Not that I’d have the balls to tell you that out loud.”

He chuckled that last part.

You held your breath as he began to recite a familiar passage to you.

Romeo’s soliloquy . You felt your eyes begin to well with tears as he read it aloud in his native language.

“Es Julieta; es el sol en el oriente.”

In your mind’s eye, you see Frankie in the afternoon sun; a day at the beach a few summers ago. He’s sunkissed, and a little burnt on his cheeks. His eyes crinkle at the edges as he laughs at something Will has said, his arm is warm and heavy over your shoulders. You don’t want him to ever let go.

“Surge, espléndido sol,” he continued, almost reverent in the way his mouth molded the words, spoke them into the hushed space of your bedroom. “y con tus rayos mata la luna enferma y envidiosa, porque tú, su doncella, eres más clara.”

You see you both now, on his bathroom floor, right after he was busted. Caroline had just moved out—more like stormed out—with the new baby and a claim that she’d been seeing someone else. Santi was out of the country, and you were the person he’d called when the urge became too much.

Here, you sit on the toilet of his bathroom, where you’d both just flushed the last of his stash, as he sits on the tiles in front of you.

His head rests on your knees, and you think that he looks like a child here. His broad shoulders trembling, his knees against the green tiles he swears he hates but secretly loves. His hair messy and damp.

“It’s too much,” he says here. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t—“

“You don’t have to,” you hold his cheeks. His eyes are frantic.

“You don’t have to,” you repeat, pressing your head to his. “We will do it together. I promise.”

“Together.”

“Es ella en la ventana; es la que amo.”

Suddenly, he stopped. Froze. And though your eyes were closed, you knew him well enough to practically feel him stiffen from across the bed.

“Cariño?” He asked, hand finding your shoulder.

You hadn’t realized you were crying until he touched and you met his eyes.

That usually guarded look was gone. It was as if the curtain, the wall, he had put up had suddenly fallen at this admission—this confession—whatever this was.

His eyes held all the emotions that he’d conveyed in the poem; devotion, reverence, love.

You weren’t sure about the last one.

The thought was too much; You frantically wiped your eyes, your gaze finding the sheets you were sitting on. Looking anywhere but at him.

“Was it a nightmare again,” he grasped your face and forced your eyes to meet his. “Ace?”

Your wide, glassy eyes met his, and that look said it all. As if looking completely through you and into your mind, Frankie’s mouth fell open, eyes widening in realization.

You had heard everything.

You had understood everything.

And he knew.

Wide eyes holding yours, he breathed your name, the syllables falling from his petal-soft lips.

A beat of silence passed, your eyes holding his, no one bold enough to say a thing.

And you broke.

The dam cracked, a flood of thoughts, desires, urges, came rushing all at once, and you, not knowing what else to do, finally decided to listen to them.

You surged forward, the sun embracing the moon, and pressed your lips to his without a thought.

Frankie stumbled backwards on your bed, gasping into your mouth. You stumbled at your own eagerness, fell between his legs, most of your body weight pressing into his chest.

His own mouth stayed still, not responding to your kiss, lips idle against your own.

No, no, no. You panicked. He didn’t feel the same way, you were wrong, you’ve ruined this, the whole thing, all those years of—

As you fell on him, you scrambled backwards, as if burnt.

As soon as your lips left his, his arms, which had been laying still against your shoulder and on the bed, sprang to action. Strong hands moved to wrap around your shoulders and the small of your back and press you back into his chest, holding, grasping with the same ferocity that you’d met him with first.

His lips met yours with a sigh, and enough force to knock your head back a bit. It was your turn to gasp, and meet his sigh with one of your own against his mouth. Your hand slid up his chest to lightly hold the side of his neck as your lips moved in tandem against each other.

You were practically straddling him now, and his arms around you were so firm that all you could do was cling to him. You slid your tongue across his bottom lip, and he melted into you, his own tongue responding in turn, his lips moving frantically, deeply against yours.

This was Frankie.

His tongue slid into your mouth, and Frankie moaned. A tight, deep sound at the back of his throat that went straight to that place in the pit of your stomach where heat was building. You began to bear down on his hips, unconsciously grinding into him in an attempt to get closer.

His hands moved down to your hips, squeezing, grasping any part of you that he could, as if he was trying to brand himself to you. You couldn’t believe you were really here; that this scenario you’d only dared to dream about in the late hours of the night behind closed doors with your hand between your legs, was actually happening.

His hands moved further up, teasing slowly up your torso, caressing the soft skin of your waist while your mouths pressed and pushed and pulled, ebbed and flowed together like they’d been meant for nothing else.

When his hands moved up over your shirt to palm your breasts you gasped, breaking away from the kiss, your lips wet and flushed.

“—sorry.” Frankie sounded wrecked, hands immediately retreating to hold you around your back, pressing his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry, corazón. I’ll stop, I’ll stop.”

His sweet, warm breath hit your cheek as you frantically shook your head no.

“No. No, Frankie. It’s okay, I just,” you had to stop to catch your breath, it comes out shaky against his face. You press your nose to his cheek.

“Don’t stop.” You breathed against his cheek, and Frankie groans . It’s a sound you’d replay over and over again for as long as you loved if you could.

He breathes, whimpers your name into your cheek before pressing a wet, opened mouth kiss to the sensitive place where your chin meets your neck. The action sent a shiver down your spine, and you jerked, a whine making it’s way past your lips.

Frankie hummed against your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses further down your neck.

It was wet and hot and intense and so Frankie that you shuddered against him, practically fettered to his broad form. His arms wrapped around you, pressing you to his chest.

Outside, the world around you ceased to exist. The rain and storm outside your window was forgone for a world in which there was only the two of you and the soft light of your room. Everything around you was replaced by Frankie.

You were overcome by him, the parts you were familiar with like the addicting scent of his cologne or the soft cotton of his tshirt, and the parts you weren’t familiar with: your body molded against him, his arousal pressing to the place between your legs, his mouth laving at your skin.

You gasped when he bit down lightly on your neck, hands flying to his hair. He moaned against your neck before pressing his nose into your neck to catch his breath, stopping his ministrations.

For a moment was the only sound was yours and Frankie’s heavy breathing, your bodies still clinging to each other, his hands on either side of your neck, yours in his hair.

After a moment, he met your gaze, eyes heavy with emotion, with passion, with lust. He pressed his nose against yours and breathed in deeply before pressing one last, deep, meaningful kiss to your lips, his tongue sliding hotly, briefly against your own.

“Mi amor,” he breathed against your lips.

Pulling away, he pressed slow, careful kisses to your skin, mumbling sweet things in between. A kiss to the corner of your mouth. Mi cielo. A kiss to your cheek. La luz de mi vida. A kiss to your eyelid. Mi media naranja. A kiss to the other. Mi corazón . A kiss between your eyes. A kiss to your pulse. Te quiero.

He stayed like that for a moment, lips pressed to your pulse, still wrapped around you, just breathing you in.

“Frankie,” you eventually whispered, feeling about apprehensive when he didn’t say anything.

“Frankie,” you repeated, that feeling of panic setting in. Wondering if this wasn’t what you thought it was and if he would be done with you after this.

You lightly pushed at his shoulders when he still didn’t move.

“Are you—“ you shakily began before he cut you off.

“I love you.” His voice was deep and gravelly with disuse as he looked up to meet your eyes. His own a perfect mirror of what fear and desperation you were sure your own held.

Oh. You let out a shaky breath and felt your eyes well up. You tried again, but this breath was shakier.

Soon, the tears began to flow, giving way to sobbing hiccups; the intensity of the past weekend and the events that had just transpired.

He coped and pulled you to him.

“Oh, baby.“ he said, in that comforting voice that he’d perfected in the years of consoling you and talking you down. The voice of your best friend.

“Shh, shh, shh, cariño.” His hands were in your hair and rubbing down your back as you press your face into his shoulder. The tears would not stop coming.

“Just forget it, ok?” He said softly, as if consoling a child. “We can pretend it never happened ok, Ace? I’m here. I’m always gonna be here. Nothing has to change.”

You could feel him trembling now, trying to hold it together for your case. You gripped him tighter before shaking your head.

“No,” you spoke into his neck.

He ignored you, opting to continue to try to repair the damage he was sure he had caused.

“We can forget it, ok? I’m sorry—“

“Frankie,” you said, gripping his shoulders tightly to get your point across. “Shut up.”

His face, flushed, hair fluffy and messy, lifted to meet yours, eyes deep and soulful and familiar as ever. Your eyes were still glassy, your voice warbly and whiny from crying, but you needed him to know.

“I love you, Frankie.” You pressed your forehead to his. He sighed, pressing his nose to your cheek again.

“Hermosa,” he breathed against you.

“I’ve loved you for years.” The words wouldnt stop. “I don’t think I’ve ever not loved you.”

He shuddered.

“I’ve loved you since before Colombia.” He admitted, shaking his head against you, running his hands up your sides as if to convince himself that you were here. Real.

“Since you got drunk and challenged Will to an arm wrestling match at Tom’s 20th wedding anniversary party.”

You laughed against him, shaking your head. He chuckled along with you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. But, after a moment he pulled back.

“Cariño,” he started, looking down, brows drawn tightly together. “Even when I was with Caroline—“

“It doesn’t matter.” You assured.

“No, no, but it does—“

“There’s plenty of time for that later, Frankie.” You pressed your forehead to his.

“Okay, baby.” He sighed. Kissing your forehead before pulling back, a concerned look on his face.

“What?” You asked, confused. He pressed his palm to your head, looking like quite the mother hen.

“Jesus, baby, you’re burning up.” You rolled your eyes, glaring at him.

“I’m fine, Frank.”

“No, you’re feverish.” He insisted, hand still on your forehead.

“Im okay, Frankie, I swear.” You tried to push his hand away, but he caught it in his own.

“Corazón, you’re still sick.” He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear before palming your cheek, much like he had earlier, and kissing the side of your forehead.

“Te adoro.” He whispered. You hummed back, grabbing his own face, needing to have him closer. Before you could kiss him, though, he pulled back, lightly pushing you back onto the bed.

“And It’s because of that,” he continued, “that I’m putting you to bed.”

He wrapped your comforter around you, and when he went to pull away, you grabbed his forearm with two of your hands.

“You are staying in my bed,” you stated, rather than asked. He chuckled at your haughtiness before flopping down beside you.

As you both drifted off, you pressed your nose into his shoulder. He gripped your hip, pulling you closer so that you were practically on top of him.

“You have no idea how long I’ve dreamt about this.” He admitted quietly, voice full of emotion.

You wrapped a leg over his hips.

“I think I do.” You replied, pressing a kiss to his neck. He shivered, drawing a light chuckle from you.

“Mala,” he whispered. You hummed at that.

“But you keep me around anyway.” You said cheekily. At that he snorted.

“We will be talking about your sudden Spanish comprehension in the morning.” He mumbled, pinching your side lightly.

At that you smiled; you could tackle that in the morning. That, and anything else.

fin.

[watchmegetobsessed]

Risk it - Harry Styles

a/n: this came so fast and typed most of it out at work lmao, but i kinda dig how it turned out!! hope you’ll like it too! as always, feedback is very much appreciated!

pairing: professor!Harry x Reader

warning: sexual content

word count: 11.8k

masterlist

You shake yourself a little bit to get rid of the spicy coldness that’s been lingering around in the city in the past few days. It’s only the end of August, but feels more like late October, though they say the warmness will return for a few more weeks shortly. That would be much needed, you’d love to enjoy some more lunches out in a park or down near the river before you are forced to withdraw into the insides for the rest of the year.

Looking around in the packed pub you look for the familiar golden locks of Piper and you quickly spot her in one of the corner booths, laughing joyfully with pinked cheeks probably from the almost empty pint of beer in front of her. Marching through the place you slide into the booth joining the group of three.

“And there she is!” Piper cheers.

“We thought you’re gonna bail on us,” Abigail snickers and you just roll your eyes.

“I said I would come, just had some work to finish before,” you tell them, shaking your cardigan down your arms quickly, the air is thicker, mustier and much warmer in here, but it’s not surprising, the pub is packed, just as usual on a Friday evening.

“You work way too much,” Piper shakes her head in disapproval as she downs the rest of her drink.

“I’ll be working way less from September.”

“Yeah, but you’ll spend the rest of the week in school, so it’s gonna be the same!” Mona chimes in with furrowed eyebrows.

“They promised me a fat raise if I get this degree within the next three years, I could definitely use the extra cash so I can finally buy my own place soon,” you explain.

You know they understand the situation and they wish you the best. They want to see you succeed in life and in your career, they just love teasing you about how dedicated you are towards your work, having to say immediately yes when your boss told you you’d get a new position and a raise if you finish the masters you never got to two years ago. You already had a handful of credits done that you’ll be able to get accepted, meaning you only have about one year worth of credits to finish in two years while working. It might get a little overwhelming to have an almost fulltime job and go to school but you’re determined to do this.

“We know, we know,” Abigail chuckles. “Alright, no more work or school talk tonight. We are here to let loose, so let’s get another round!”

Soon enough you are nursing a beer of your own, enjoying your time with your friends. It’s been long all four of you were free on the same night. Piper got married last year, Abigail’s work forces her to travel around a lot and Mona has a bitch of a boss, making her work overtime a lot, so it’s been hard to fix up a date that fits everyone. It’s been like this since you all finished your bachelors three years ago. You like to think you’re still a fresh little young adult who just barely stepped out into the big world, but it’s not true, hasn’t been for a while. You’re 24, you have a career, you live on your own, you take care of yourself fully. You are an adult, whether you like it or not.

Drink after drink, the four of you are getting tipsy, having an amazing time talking about the stories you shared back in university. Piper was your roommate first year uni, Mona and Abigail were in the room next to yours and you quickly became close friends, moved in for the rest of your studies until you all went your own ways after graduation, but keeping in touch as much as possible.

“I’m gonna get another one, but that’s gonna be my last one, because I have some work to finish in the morning,” you announce climbing out of the booth.

“No work talk!” Mona and Abigail shout at the same time making you laugh as you just wave them off and head to the bar.

You’ve been waiting for the line to get shorter, now only a few people are lingering around so you patiently wait for your turn, clutching onto your card in your hand. You don’t pay much attention to the tall guy next to you, only when someone bumps into you from behind and makes you fall against his side.

“Oh shoot, sorry! Someone pushed me,” you apologize immediately as the guy looks at you over his broad shoulder and your gaze meets a pair of green eyes framed with long lashes and a curious look in them.

“No worries, Love,” he smiles and you almost gasp at the British accent that laces through his voice. You take a quick moment to inspect the man, he is standing almost a full head above you, wearing a simple black shirt and brown slacks, a set of bulky rings sitting on his fingers that are spread out on the counter in front of him, his whole left arm covered in ink and you feel the urge to examine every figure on his golden skin. His chocolate curls are kind of a mess, but still look well placed, you bet he is the type who only runs his fingers through his hair and makes it look breathtaking. He is handsome and definitely your type, looks older than you, but you wouldn’t think he is over thirty.

“What’s your order?” he asks and your eyes snap up to him, realizing he is still looking at you.

“Huh?”

“What’s your order? I’ll get it for you so you don’t have to wait longer.” “Oh, I’ll just have a stout,” you tell him, feeling a little flushed from his offer. His eyebrows rise in surprise. “What?”

“Didn’t take you as a stout person is all,” he smirks at you as the bartender appears in front of him with his drink, asking if he wants anything else. “And a stout, please.” The guy nods and disappears to get your drink.

“I uhh—I only have card though,” you speak up realizing you can’t pay it back to him.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s on me.”

“Oh, no, that wouldn’t be fair,” you protest and he seems amused that you don’t just let him pay for your drink.

“How about this: you pay for the next round. Me and my mates are sitting over there, just come over when you finish this,” he offers, pointing at two guys sitting a few booths away from you and your friends.

“This was supposed to be my last round. I have to work in the morning,” you breathe out tilting your head.

“What? Work on Saturday? What kind of job is so cruel to make you work on a Saturday morning?” he asks with a boyish smile.

“One that pays my bills and most importantly my beer,” you chuckle softly.

“Okay, then make it just a soda,” he cheekily says and you feel giddy that this man is so keen on having another drink with you.

“I guess that could work,” you smile just as the bartender appears with your drink and the handsome man pays for the drinks, just then you realize you don’t even know his name. “I’m Y/N, by the way,” you tell him taking your beer. He tugs his wallet into his pocket before holding a hand out for you.

“Harry. Nice to meet you,” he smiles warmly and the moment you take his hand, you feel the tiny sparks. This man is surely something else. “I’ll be waiting for our next round,” he cheekily tells you raising his glass before the two of you part and go back to your own groups. As expected, your friends are already waiting for you with wide eyes and excitement, having witnessed your little chat with Harry at the bar.

“Who was that?! No, wait, it doesn’t matter. You need to go home with him!” Abigail smacks her hand to the table earning a chuckle from you.

“Don’t be dramatic, I just met him.”

“And you have to get to know him better. Deeper, you know what I mean?” Mona prompts.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you all. He is hot, but I’m not looking to day anyone right now.”

“You know, it’s starting to get boring to hear you say that you are just working on yourself these days. That’s not what you’re doing,” Piper gives you a look. “You are wasting your time on work and school and all these stuff that will be there when you’re older. Live a little, Y/N!” she begs.

“You guys make me appear like a no fun bitch, but that’s not who I am!” you defend yourself, though you know they just want the best for you.

“A fun bitch would ditch us right now and go over to their booth and then ride his dick all night.”

You gasp at the unfiltered answer you just heard from Mona, but deep down, you know she is right. You haven’t really let yourself be a little crazy in a while, your one night stands stopped the moment you graduated and stepped into the world of work. It just didn’t fit into your everydays, you had a lot to worry about, making a living and keeping your life on track, but you have it all now. What’s stopping you from hooking up with a cute guy?

“I’m not gonna just ditch you guys, came here to spend time with you!”

“Shut up, we are leaving then,” Abigail snaps, downing the rest of her drink in a blink of an eye and for a moment you’re speechless.

“What? No! We never get to spend quality time together, all four of us!”

“Honey,” Mona sighs. “We love you and we know you need this. So go, get the tatted hottie and we’ll meet up another time when you’ll get to tell us all about how good the D was.”

“Jesus, you guys are unbelievable,” you chuckle shaking your head, accepting the fact that they are really forcing you to do this.

They all quickly finish their drinks and get ready to leave, hugging you before they exit the place, leaving you alone in the booth. Staring down at the stout in front of you, feeling nervous to just walk up to the guys a few tables away, though Harry told you to go over, however he didn’t invite you to join their group, just promised another round.

You take a few long gulps, hoping the strong drink will bring out your courage and before you could talk yourself down you grab your bag and drink, heading over to Harry and his friends. He is sitting at the far end so he easily spots you walking over, perching up in his seat when he sees you approaching.

“Hey,” you greet them all with a shy smile, waving around. There’s a blond guy sitting across Harry and a brunette with equally as many tattoos on his arms as Harry.

“Hey, you haven’t finished your drink,” Harry observes with a small smirk.

“Um, no. But my friends left and I was wondering if I could… join you guys.”

“Oh, the honor is yours! Take a seat beautiful!” the blonde one immediately slides further into the booth so you can sit across Harry. “I’m Niall, what’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“So very nice to meet you,” he grins at you, words thick with Irish accent. “That’s Louis over there,” he gestures towards the third man who nods in your way with a welcoming smile.

“Hi. I’m hoping I’m not interrupting though.”

“Oh, never,” Niall shakes his head immediately. “We saw you chatting up Harry at the bar, have been teasing him about going up to you since then,” he cheekily comments and you see Harry giving him a look, but Niall couldn’t care less.

All three of them are hilarious and you love the dynamic in their friendship. Niall is clearly the loud one, Louis is the cheeky who is always up for some mischief and Harry is somewhat the serious bloke, but it’s clear he doesn’t say no to any crazy ideas his two friends make up. You love the teasing and joking, they make you feel welcomed and as if you’d known them for longer than just an hour. As promised, you pay for Harry’s next drink, but you stick to just a lemonade, not wanting to overstep your own boundaries.

All while you’re sitting with the guys, you keep catching Harry eyeing you, your gazes meet over your drinks and at one point you feel his leg finding yours under the table, your ankles pressing together as he nudges you with his feet. You feel like a giddy teenager flirting with her crush, Harry’s effect on you is probably very clear too, but you don’t care.

Louis is the first one to leave and Niall follows not long later, leaving you alone with Harry. The nerves are raging in you as you try to figure out which way to take it. Though he seems like a nice guy, you still don’t want to take it any further than a hookup. Dating is just not in the cards for you right now. But how do you imply a one night stand? Do you ask him to come to your place? Or do you go to his? You would rather go to his so you can sneak out first thing in the morning, spare you an awkward talk over breakfast before you leave.

“We should… get going too,” you suggest and Harry nods in agreement, finishing up the last gulps of his beer. You take a deep breath and decide to just be straight forward. “Maybe I could go to yours? Have another round there?” Your suggestion comes out fainter than you intended, but you still manage to sound confident. Harry seems a little surprised, but he doesn’t voice it.

“Another? Thought you were done for the night,” he tells with an amused smirk.

“I’m sure you have something alcohol free,” you shrug innocently.

“I surely do,” he nods. “Alright, let’s get going.

He calls an Uber and the two of you sit close in the car, thighs touching and at one point his large hand finds your thigh, squeezing it gently that sets a fire in your core almost immediately. It’s been long you’ve been touched by a man, you were starting to forget what it feels like, but you know Harry will remind you well about it.

He lives in a nice townhouse and you note how it’s not too far from the campus you’ll be going to a lot in a week. He keys the two of you in, switching the lights on in his cozy home. It’s not messy, more like lived in. A lot of books everywhere, the furniture doesn’t match, but all together, the whole place is pulled together somehow. It’s very like him.

“So, what would you like to drink?” he asks walking into the open concept kitchen, grabbing two glasses from the cupboard. “I have some tea, orange juice, water…”

As you watch his broad back, his muscles moving under the soft fabric of his shirt, you quickly forget about any drink. You want him and you want him now. Walking up to him you slide between him and the kitchen counter, catching him by surprise when you cup his face in your hands and pull him down into a hard kiss, but a moment later his arms wrap around you, lifting you up from the ground until you are sat on the counter. You open your knees so he stands between them, his crotch meeting yours as you kiss messily, all tongues, tugging and nipping, but oh my! You absolutely love it. The man has a mouth full of magic and you can only imagine what else he can do with those lips.

A whimpered moan leaves your mouth when you feel his growing bulge rub against your core as his lips travel down your jawline and throat, kissing and licking on your heated skin.

“Harry, bedroom,” you demand grabbing onto his shoulders and he doesn’t waste a moment, picking you up into his arms and heading somewhere down the hallway. You can’t quite comprehend what way it is, you’re way too lost in the feeling of his lips on your collarbone and neck, surely leaving marks on you.

He lays you down to a king sized bed and gets on top of you right away, following his wandering down your body. His ring clad fingers work fast on the hem of your shirt, pulling it off you in a moment before he kneels up and gets rid of his own shirt. He looks breathtaking, all the tattoos littering his chest and stomach, you just want to kiss all of them, feel his skin on your lips.

As he unbuckles his leather belt you push down your skinny jeans, throwing the item to the side without ever taking your hands off him. The man surely has all your attention.

When his slacks join the rest of your clothes on the floor he climbs on top of you again, kissing down the valley between your breasts that are still covered in the lacy bra. Your underwear doesn’t match, but something is telling you Harry is more eager to see you without them than to examine them. When he hooks his fingers into your panties and starts pulling them down, you reach to your back, unclasping the bra and in a blink of an eye, you’re lying completely naked in front of him.

“Fuck, you look so hot, Y/N,” he breathes out before those magical lips start working on your nipples, making you moan and whimper under him.

Kissing down your stomach he spreads your thighs wide, gazing down at your naked sex and for a moment you feel a little self-conscious, but the lust in Harry’s eyes quickly makes it disappear.

“You’re gonna let me have a taste, baby?” he murmurs, sending shivers down your spine as you nod eagerly.

He is not a tease. Harry dives right in, his lips meeting your clit, working his magic and you cry out his name, fingers tangling into his locks to keep him in place, not that he is about to stop anytime soon. He clearly enjoys pleasuring you.

“Oh fuck!” you gasp when his tongue runs down your slit and he slowly pushes into you, making your back arch. You need him inside you, you need him to fill you up right now or else you’ll burst. “Harry,” you breathe out, tugging on his shoulders, urging him to come back up.

He climbs up your body, a satisfied smirk on his glistening lips and when he kisses you hungrily, you can taste yourself on him.

“Condom,” you urge him, hands pushing down on his briefs, lips still locked as he reaches to the bedside table. You hear the familiar sound of the package ripping before he leans back, your eyes falling on his naked erection for the first time and your lips part seeing his cock, knowing already he’ll feel you up so well. He rolls the condom on easily before returning to you, but you don’t stay in that position too long. You want to ride this man, see him come undone under you. Being on top is already one of your favorite positions, but with Harry, you just know it’s going to be amazing.

You push on his shoulder and he understands your intention without a spoken word, so he rolls to his back and lets you straddle him, glancing down at his cock that’s now grazing his lower stomach, so hard and throbbing just for you. His fingers dig into your hips when you wrap a hand around his length, positioning him to your center.

“Oh fuck!” he moans when you ease down, his cock filling you up inch to inch, feeling so amazing like nothing before.

“Shit,” you breathe out gasping when you sit on him fully, taking his whole length inside you, stretching your insides so nicely, your wet walls hugging him perfectly.

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmurs lowly as you start buckling your hips, moving back and forth, up and down, the friction you’re creating swallowing you up entirely.

Harry can’t take his eyes off you, a hand wandering up to cup your breast and you cover his hand with yours, encouraging him to squeeze, making you moan passionately. He starts buckling his hips in sync with your movements, meeting you with every little thrust, hitting just the right spots, building up your orgasm so easily like no man has ever done before.

“Harry, oh God!” you moan, falling forward, leaning onto your arms next to his head, your lips meet in a hungry and demanding kiss as he wraps his arms around your body, thrusting up into you hard and so good, you whimper against his lips.

“You’re gonna cum for me, baby? I wanna see you feel good,” he pants, never slowing down. A few moments later he rolls the two of you around, your back hitting the sheets again as he moves one of your legs to rest on his shoulder, hitting a spot that almost makes you see stars.

“Oh yes! There! Don’t fucking stop!” you cry out so loud, you can only hope the walls are thick enough to keep your voice locked in the room.

“Not planning to,” he chuckles shortly before burying his face in the crook of your neck. You hold onto him for dear life, fingers digging into his sweaty skin, feeling as if you are melting into him.

Harry rocks into you relentlessly, your toes curling as you feel your orgasm finally arriving, making you gasp for air.

“Harry! I’m gonna cum!” you moan and he lifts his head, never stopping, not even for a second. His green eyes lock on your gaze, curls flopping into his forehead as he watches you in awe.

“Let it go for me, baby. Cum all over me, I wanna see how good I’m making you feel.”

“So fucking good!”

He picks up his pace just enough to make you lose your mind. It hits you like a pile of bricks, your orgasm washing over you in intense waves as you moan his name again and again. Your walls clench around him and it’s enough to throw him over the edge as well. His thrusts become uncoordinated and harder as his mouth hangs open.

“Fuck, Y/N! You feel so fucking amazing!” he whimpers through his pleasure and you watch him fall apart, panting and gasping for air, trying to remember every little detail about him. This is an experience you surely won’t forget and will probably fantasize about a lot when you’re alone at home, playing with yourself, seeking release.

A few more sloppy thrusts later he stops, kissing your lips passionately before he pulls out and falls to the mattress next to you. You both need a few minutes to recover from it, just panting and laying numbly next to each other, Harry’s arm thrown over your stomach. You turn to the side and immediately meet his glistening eyes, filled with satisfaction and bliss. When he finally recollects himself he pecks your lips softly before leaving the bed. You watch him remove the used condom, tie it and toss it into the small trash can near his dressed before he moves to the bathroom. When he reappears, he is wearing a fresh pair of boxers and he has a wet washcloth in his hand. Sitting beside you he gently cleans you up as you murmur your thank you.

“Want something to sleep in?” he asks then and you nod. He grabs you a t-shirt and a pair of loose shorts that you put on gladly. They smell exactly like him, soap, something citrus-like and a hint of anise.

He returns to bed and pulls you into his embrace, you gladly make yourself comfortable curled up to his side. Lying there, feeling his fingers gently running up and down your arm almost makes you want more from him. You could get used to share a bed with him and it’s not just because of the mind-blowing sex, but he is a lovable person. You feel bad you’re planning to leave without a trace in the morning, but then you tell yourself it’s what has to happen.

Harry doses off soon and you follow him right after, the warmth of his body puts you to sleep easily. When you wake up it’s still clearly early. Harry is sleeping soundly next to you, face squished into the pillow and you almost stay, wanting to see what he’s like in the morning, but you don’t let yourself change your mind.

You get dressed into your own clothes and leave the ones he lent you on top of his dresser. You tiptoe out of his room and grab your bag before looking for a piece of paper and a pen. You quickly scribble down a short note for him.

“Had fun last night. Hope you won’t be mad, but I only saw it as a one night stand. You’re an amazing man, Harry. I’m glad we met. Xx  –Y/N”

It’s more than nothing, than leaving without a word and you don’t let the guilt take over you. Taking one last look around, glancing in the way of the bedroom where he is still asleep, you pack it all up and put it to the back of your mind before walking out.

The last week before your classes start passes by faster than you imagined. It’s your last week fully in the office so you try to work a little ahead, staying in afterhours so you won’t have that much to take care of while you get used to being a uni student again. You usually get home after nine and basically fall into bed right away, and you even work during the weekend before the Monday when school starts. You go to bed way too late so it’s not a surprise you wake up late. You get ready in a rush, throwing out your plan to get a coffee on your way out the window since you are way behind time. Running across campus you’re lucky you already know your way around so you don’t have to wander around, looking for the room you have to be at, but even when you finally reach the right hallway you’re ten minutes late to the class.

Introduction to International Relations, held by Prof. Styles, 8.30-10.00, it reads on the little timetable attached to the way next to the closed doors and you pray the man didn’t start in time, so you’d be late with just a few minutes. Taking a deep breath you push the door open trying to make no sound and unfortunately, you are met with an auditorium full of people, everyone looking at you as if it was against the law to be a little late to class.

What the Hell is wrong with students these days? Being late was usual when I was a freshman, you think to yourself as you step inside, closing the door behind you, getting ready to apologize to the professor.

“I’m so sorry, Professor Styles, I—Shit,” you end your sentence with a whisper as your eyes fall on the man standing on the podium. He hasn’t turned to you, his eyes are fixed on a paper in his hand, probably the syllabus because he must have been in the middle of introducing the class, but the sudden whispering that starts upon your apology that turned into shit, he finally looks up and his eyes fall on your frozen figure.

Professor Styles is none other than Harry. As in The Harry you met at the pub a week ago, had the best sex with and left without leaving your number to him in the morning. Now he is staring back at you with the same amount of panic and surprise as you.

“What—I uhh…” He clears his throat, looking around and seeing about a hundred pairs of curious eyes who are witnessing the awkward run-in. “Take a seat,” he then firmly says, clenching his jaw as you nod.

With your heart beating in your throat you keep your eyes down on your feet as you rush over to a free seat somewhere at the front, since the back is already kinda full.

“So, uhh—As I was saying this is an introduction so we’ll talk about a lot of different topics, I want you to have a view of the most important aspects before moving onto separate fields.”

You don’t dare to look up as Harry talks about the class, the syllabus, how the semester will be built up and what you’ll have to do to pass. Scribbling your wobbly notes, you nervously bounce your legs under the desk, flashbacks from your time with him popping into your mind through the whole lecture.

This feels like something straight out of a ridiculous movie. How is it possible, that the one time you finally decide to have a one night stand with a hot guy, he turns out to be your professor?! That’s just your luck, it seems.

Harry doesn’t drag the lecture long, dismisses everyone after an hour once every question has been answered. You plan to escape right away, but it turns out Harry doesn’t want to just sweep it under the rug.

“Can I have a word with you?” he asks stepping to your desk as you are furiously shoving your stuff into your bag.

“Uh, sure,” you nod, not like you have a choice. You’d love to run, but he is your professor, it would sit well if you ditched him on the first day of school.

You slow your packing down so you finish right when the last student has left the room. Grabbing your bag you turn to face Harry who now seems furious, vivid if you might say. He strides over to the door and shuts it before facing you.

“You said you’re working!” is the first thing he throws at you, making you raise your eyebrows.

“Because I am! I’m finishing my masters so I can get a promotion!” you defend yourself.

“Wait, so how old are you?” he asks with a puzzled look.

“I’m twenty-four, what did you think?” You feel offended, did he think you were younger or older? Neither would sit well anyway, so there’s no good answer.

“I-I don’t know, but when you walked right into my class I surely thought you were twenty or something,” he explains exhaling sharply. “Okay, so twenty-four. But still, you could have told me you are a student here.”

“Excuse you? Why would have I told you, we met that night, of course I didn’t share my whole fucking life with you! Besides, you didn’t say a thing about being a college professor either,” you spat at him and it seems like he realizes your argument is quite valid. He can’t blame it all on you.

“Okay, you’re right. Sorry.”

There’s a short silence as the anger dies down and the awkwardness and shock returns. It’s such an impossible situation, you never thought you’d have to deal with anything similar. Having an affair with your professor? This shit is straight out of some teenage drama.

“I can… drop the lecture, if you want. Only took it as extra credit, because I was interested in it,” you offer the first rational option that comes to your mind.

“No, I mean… you don’t have to. Messing around with credits at this time sucks, you wouldn’t be able to find something else.”

“Okay, so then what?”

“I guess we’ll just pretend like nothing happened,” he shrugs before his eyes meet yours. “Like you did in the morning when you left without leaving your number.”

His comment spikes, you can tell he was hurt that you didn’t stay, though now is probably not the best time to bring it up.

“Well, sorry. I didn’t think of it as more,” you dryly say.

“That’s not how you came off, however. Having laughs with me and my friends like we’ve known each other for years and then…” he doesn’t finish, but you have an idea what he wanted to say. And then you had insanely good sex and fell asleep cuddling. It feels illegal to even think about it in this building.

“Look, I’m really sorry I left like that, but look at it this way: if we would have taken it further, it would be way worse now, wouldn’t it?”

“Maybe we would have talked more later and found out about this and wouldn’t have had to face each other under these circumstances.”

He has a point, but it doesn’t matter now. The past is the past and you have to figure out how to treat this odd situation.

“You think you can forget about it and we can be professional? I really don’t want this to affect my studies,” you truthfully ask. Harry stares at you for a long moment before nodding.

“I think we can make it work. We are both adults, let’s put it behind us.” You nod, satisfied with his answer. “So what’s your major and why do you need it for your job?”

“It’s communication. I’m set to take over our international partnership groups, but the board is set on having someone with a higher degree. I told my boss I started it back then but never finished when I started working. He said I would instantly get the position if I finished my masters, so… here I am.”

Harry nods, chewing on your answer. Suddenly, as you look at him, guilt washes over you. He is such a genuine and lovely man, yet you left so abruptly, never even giving him a chance. Not that it would have made this situation any different, but it seems like you hurt him.

“Harry, I really am sorry for leaving. I had a great time with you, but I don’t think dating just fits into my life right now. I felt like you’d want more and I didn’t want to deal with all the explaining and apologizing.”

“I get it. It just would have been nicer to talk it out. Not that it makes a change now,” he adds with a soft smile.

“So we’re good?” you ask hopefully.

“Yeah. Professional and all,” he smiles nodding and you feel like a rock has been lifted off your shoulders.

“Great. Well, I guess I’ll see you later, professor,” you add a little cheekily and you see the fire in his eyes instantly, but he holds his tongue, not commenting on how sexual it sounds from your mouth. You couldn’t miss out on the teasing.

“Dismissed,” he nods turning away from you as he walks back to his desk. You walk out with the longest sigh that’s ever left your lips.

“Professor Styles! You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Piper screams at you over Facetime later that week when the two of you have your usual little chat. You’re making dinner while she lies on her couch, staring at you from the screen with the widest eyes. You just told him the whole thing with Harry and she almost choked. “The man is a professor? This shit is wild!” “Not just a professor, he is my fucking teacher, Piper!” you chuckle awkwardly. You still haven’t fully wrapped your mind around the fact that you hooked up with your professor.

“How old is the dude to be teaching at a university?”

“Well, he said he is twenty-nine. I might have done a little search and since he is british, schooling was a little different for him. Apparently, he finished high school early as a fucking genius that he is, then uni, masters and everything. He started teaching at my school two years ago. The guy is like a big name in the field of social sciences.”

“Damn, he is a gem. So what’s gonna happen now? Y’all gonna fuck on his desk after class?”

“Piper!” you snap at her.

“What? I hope you’re not thinking about passing on him.”

“I passed on him way before I knew he was my professor. We can’t have anything going on because one, he is my professor and two, because I’m not looking for anyone to date.”

“You are so full of bullshit, Y/N,” she snorts. “So what if he is your professor? Just for this semester. Keep it a secret and then it’s done. You’re not some eighteen year-old freshman, he is just five years older than you.”

“You can’t be serious,” you shake your head. “I’m not going to have an affair with my teacher.”

“Not an affair, a relationship! You gotta hold onto good dick if you find one. This is what I did with Ronan,” she smirks satisfied.

“Yeah, it’s not happening.”

“Why not?”

“Piper, have you been listening to what I was saying?” you ask in disbelief. “Yeah, five years is not much, but I’m pretty sure there’s a rule against teachers dating students.”

“Rules are for losers. You literally found the perfect guy and you’ll just throw him away? Said it yourself after your hookup that you liked the guy. Why are you being so difficult?”

“Sorry for not wanting to get myself or Harry out of the university,” you scoff turning the stove off under the sauce before you burn it all.

“Harry? So you’re just calling him Harry?” Piper wiggles her eyebrows at you, leaning closer to the camera and you just groan at her. How was this the only thing that stuck to her?

“I can’t fucking believe you,” you mumble under your breath.

“Okay, yeah, I get you. I truly do. But I’m also your friend who wants to see you happy. So I’m just saying that if he makes a move… be open. He is your professor for only one semester, so once it’s over you are free to do whatever. Fuck, date, anything.”

Soon enough you fall into a pattern with your everydays. Mondays, Tuesdays and Friday mornings are for school. Wednesdays and Thursdays are spent on campus at your lectures and you usually go into the office on Friday afternoons to make sure everything works fine before you go off for the weekend. Having so many credits accepted from before, you have less classes meaning that you have less work to do with school as well. There are a few papers and assignments, but nothing too crazy. You genuinely enjoy your classes, each of them unique in a different way but if you’re being honest, Harry’s class is your favorite. He has done a great job at building up the lectures. Introduction classes tend to be shallow and boring, but not Harry’s. He has chosen interesting but still important topics and he makes sure the students are always involved and he isn’t just reading up his slides dully. There are a lot of discussions, everyone gets to tell their opinion and Harry genuinely seems interested in anything his students have to say.

You also came to realize his class is full of girls, only a handful of men dared to sign up. You didn’t pay attention the first time for obvious reasons, but as you looked around the next week you saw heart eyes and lustful gazes towards the man standing on the podium talking. You’re not sure if Harry doesn’t notice it or just chooses to ignore it, but he is doing a good job at staying professional. In the aspect of your situation as well.

For a bit you were afraid he would have hard feelings towards you or treat you differently, but it’s not the case. You are just another pair of curious eyes and ears at his lectures, only that sometimes you catch yourself daydreaming about that one night. When that happens you can always feel yourself blushing and an irrational fear that Harry can hear your thoughts invades your mind, though it’s stupid. But you always try to stay low just in case.

 It’s early October when an unexpected project lands in your hands at work, setting you back in your schedule. You work through the weekend just to get it right but that means that you couldn’t start working on your paper for Harry’s class that has to be turned in by the end of the week. So next Monday morning when class is over you walk up to him to ask for some more time.

“Hey, can I have a word with you?” you ask and as he glances up at you he seems surprised you initiated a private conversation.

“Sure, what’s the matter?”

“I just wanted to ask if I could have just a little more time to turn my paper in. I know it’s due Friday, but I’m a little behind and it would be amazing if I could work on it on the weekend. I’m sure I’d be done by next Monday.”

You’re afraid he might think you want to use your history and take advantage of it, but it seems like Harry looks more concerned than upset about your request.

“Yeah, sure. Everything alright though?”

Your eyes wander around the room, only a few more people are left inside and they are heading out as well. For some reason, you are a little paranoid that someone might figure out what happened between you and Harry though it’s nearly impossible.

“I’m good, I just got some extra work last week and it totally threw me off.”

“Oh, what kind of project?”

“I just have to put together a communication plan for three of our partners and it’s taking way more time than I expected,” you admit with a chuckle.

“I think I have an amazing book about international communication plans. I could lend it to you, if you’d like. It has amazing tips on sustainability.”

“That would be… amazing,” you say, surprised by his nice offer.

“Are you on campus tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I have a lecture. I can come by your office.”

“Fantastic,” he smiles warmly. “And don’t worry about the paper. You’re not the first one to ask for more time. If you hand it in on Monday it’s gonna be perfectly fine,” he assures you.

“Thank you Harry. I-I mean Professor Styles,” you correct yourself, feeling awkward that you called him by his first name, but he just chuckles.

“You can call me Harry outside class.” “Okay,” you smile nodding. “Then, see you tomorrow,” you say as you leave the room.

You spend the rest of the day working unfortunately, still a lot to do with your project. It’s hard to harmonize three different companies from three nations, working in different time zones. The next day you decide to skip your lecture in the noon. The professor is not too strict on attendance so you’re just gonna find a nice coffee place, set up a temporary office and work some more so you can finish everything on time.

You find Harry’s office easily. The door is open and you spot him sitting behind his desk right away, searching for something in a stack of papers. His office resembles a lot to his home, it has a cozy vibe but looks still very much academic with all the books lining on the shelves on the two sides of his desk. You knock on the doorframe as you arrive and his green eyes shoot up to your figure.

“Hey! Come on in!” he smiles at you. “Just a moment please,” he asks, still vigorously flipping the pages until he finally stops. “Here it is, I’ve been looking for it for ages,” he mumbles to himself and you smile. He looks a lot like the version of him you met at the bar. A fun, nice guy, clearly a little lost in his own world, but it amuses you rather then annoys. You wonder what could be happening in that brilliant mind of his.

He pushes himself away from the table and walks over to his bag that lies on the small sofa in the corner. Digging into it he pulls out a thick book that he hands over to you.

“Wow, lengthy,” you chuckle as you flip through the pages quickly.

“Yeah, looks a little dry but I promise it’s good. I put a note to the chapters that are the most relevant to you,” he explains and just then you spot a yellow post-it on one of the pages, a few more following behind.

“Oh, thank you. That’s really nice of you.” You smile up at him warmly, holding the book to your chest. “I’ll bring it back as soon as I’m done.”

“Take your time,” he nods. “And how is it going so far?”

“Uh, it’s… going,” you say with a tired chuckle. “It’s a little tricky, but I’m sure I’ll solve it. I’m gonna work some more on it now, so hopefully I’ll be done within the next few days.”

“You’re not going to class?”

“No, I allowed myself a skip this week so I’m gonna find a café or something.”

“You could… stay here, if you’d like. I could even help if you let me have a look at it. I mean I’m not an expert in communication but I’m good with multicultural stuff.” His offer catches you by surprise and for a moment you want to say no, but then you realize he might actually be helpful. Another set of eyes is always beneficial.

“You don’t have a class?”

“Not until four, no.”

“And you sure I can stay? I don’t want to bother you.”

“You’re not. Please, I would love to take a look at what you’ve put together.”

You hesitate for another moment, but then let your bag slip off your shoulder as you walk over to the armchair in front of his desk.

You pull your laptop out of your bag and set it on the table so both of you can see from the two sides of the desk. You open up what you have so far, explaining it in details and Harry listens intently, nodding and humming along so you know he is following. At the end you tell him your concerns, the ones you’ve been trying to rule out these past few days so you can finish it all up.

“This looks amazing, Y/N. I’m very impressed by the way you synchronized it all.” “Thank you, but it’s not perfect, so I have a lot to work on. Any thoughts though?”

Harry asks you a few questions before he gives his two cents, telling you what he would do and change. His point of view actually helps a lot, allows you to see the whole thing from a different angle and he gives you some awesome tips. Before you could realize, the two of you are deep in the project, all kinds of books splattered across his desks as you work together to finish the thing. Two hours pass by as it was just two minutes, but at the end, you have it all figured out.

“Oh my God. I can’t believe it’s done!” you breathe out, scrolling through the document you put together for your boss. Everything is put together, well-thought and in place, thanks to Harry’s help. “Harry, thank you. You literally saved my life,” you chuckle softly, leaning back in the armchair you haven’t left in hours.

“You had a strong base, I just helped you find a few solutions, but it was all you.”

“Don’t belittle it, you literally had so many ideas even in fields you are not familiar with. You really are a genius.”

“I’m just good at using my sources,” he smiles at you, glancing down at all the books he has pulled out during the process. “It was fun working on something so practical, I’m way too used to literal things.”

“Oh stop, you want me to feel bad because you are this ridiculously smart college professor who doesn’t get to work on practical projects?” you tease him earning a boyish smile.

“Maybe I do want that.”

“Well, you’re not getting it,” you laugh and he joins you. Once the mood settles you realize how good it felt to be around him. The dynamic the two of you had was so great, working with him felt like a fun activity. And now that you’re done, you really don’t want to leave this office though you know you have to.

“You know, I might come to you with work stuff all the time. You just spared so much time for me, I really thought I wouldn’t finish before Friday.”

“My door is always open,” he smirks shrugging. “I’m glad we got to work together. You really are great at what you are doing. Your boss is lucky to have you around. I’m sure you’ll be an amazing group leader once you get your degree.”

“Thank you.”

His compliment actually means a lot. Aside from this weird situation, Harry is a brilliant mind in his field. Hearing him tell you that he thinks you are doing an amazing work is such a boost to your ego.

“Well, I owe you one for this,” you tell him as you start packing up.

“Yeah? I’ll keep that in mind for sure,” he smirks, watching you put your things away.

“Mhm, see you around, Harry,” you smile, waving in his way before walking out.

“See you, Y/N.”

Thanks to Harry you get to turn in your project in time and write his paper until the original due date as well. You send it in email and for your biggest surprise he answers later that day.

“Glad you could finish in time, can’t wait to read your thoughts on the topic! –H”

It’s a simple message, but what catches your eyes is the signature at the end. It reads his full name, Prof. Harry Edward Styles, the school’s name, his official office hours and at the very end… his phone number.

Looking at it you think it seems a little out of place, as if it doesn’t belong there originally, he just added it to your email, but you can’t tell. Is this a hint? Does he want you to call or text him? What if he puts it into every email, not just yours? Would it be awkward to text? Why do you even want to text him in the first place? You agreed to stay away from him!

It keeps eating you the whole evening, staying on your mind, doesn’t matter what you do. After you’ve drunk a glass of wine with your dinner you finally make up your mind, convincing yourself it’s strictly friendly as you type in the words.

Y/N: Turned my project in, my boss already emailed me he likes it so far. Thanks for the help again. –Y/N

His reply comes fast and luckily, he doesn’t question why you decided to text him.

Harry: Glad I could help! Ran over your paper, looks great too. You’re doing an amazing job, Y/N.

There’s no stopping after that. The two of you keep talking through texts and though it’s all casual and friendly, you don’t feel bad about it, because in class, you still keep it professional and you have no advantage. He treats you just like any other student, keeping your friendship away from whatever happens in the classroom.

The line slowly starts to blur, however. You think way more about Harry than you should and you actually find yourself regretting that you’re not able to get as close to him as you want. He fascinates and attracts you in ways no one ever could before and something is telling you he shares these feelings, but you are both keeping it at bay, afraid what would happen if you let your desires take the lead. You just wish you could go out with him, have drinks with him and his friends like the night you met him, forget about how he would always stand on the podium on Monday morning no matter what happens and he’ll be grading your papers. Mixing feelings with this impossible situation might turn it into a disaster and you know you have to stay strong, but it’s getting harder.

Harry is the kind of teacher who likes to finish his class before everyone else, so when December rolls around everyone already has their grades from the papers that had to be turned in through the semester, so when December rolls around it’s all just free talks, he starts interesting discussions about topics students want to talk about. His lectures feel like free time but still, no one skips them because they are always so entertaining and interesting.

“Alright, we’ll meet for the last time next week. As per suggested, we’ll talk about the European Union so get your questions and thoughts ready,” he smiles around, ending the lecture. “Y/N? Can we talk for a second?”

“Sure,” you smile at him. Putting your things away you walk up to his desk much more carelessly than before.

“So I have a question and you can totally tell me if you don’t want to go, but there’s this great International Affairs Summit next weekend just a few towns over, not more than a two hours ride. I thought that you might be interested in going? They’ll have some awesome presentations and displays, thought it might interest you.”

For the first time since you’ve met him, he seems nervous, stumbling over his words a little as he avoids looking into your eyes. He looks so much younger, not at all like the respected professor that he is. He is just Harry now, the guy you bonded over that stout he paid for.

“Sounds nice,” you answer smiling at him, he seems surprised at your answer. “I would love to go.”

“Really?” You chuckle at his disbelief.

“Really.”

“Just to be clear it’s not a school thing, it’s gonna be the two of us,” he clears and your grin widens.

“It’s clear. Still want to go.”

“Amazing,” he breathes out, a smile finally tugging on his lips. “I can pick you up in the morning.”

“Sure. Can we discuss the details in text? I have a meeting soon.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. We’ll talk later,” he nods enthusiastically, seemingly very joyful that you agreed to go on this trip with him.

“See you later, Harry!” you wave at him walking out of the classroom.

“Later!”

Piper would be very satisfied to know that you are going away with Harry this weekend. Though you still try to tell yourself it’s nothing more than just a friendly thing, you’re not fooling yourself. You want it to be more and now that the semester is over, your doubts and fears are almost fully forgotten and left at the beginning of September. Soon Harry won’t be your professor and you now see that it wouldn’t be that bad if something more happened between the two of you. You grew close through the year even though you only kept in touch through phone, appearing publicly wasn’t really an option, but still, you got to know him better and you liked him. A lot. There was no use in denying that.

Harry picks you up early in the morning and so the little trip begins. You take control over the music and play some of your favorites to him while he drives, educating him on recent popular music. Then he shows you some of his favorites, playing a lot of Fleetwood Mac and you weren’t expecting anything else from him.

He looks great today in a creamy colored knitted sweater, black wool coat and grey checkered slacks. His hair is now longer than when you met him for the first time, but it just adds to his amazing look, he rocks it pretty well.

The two hours pass by fast and you arrive to the Summit. Checking out the program the two of you choose the presentations you’re most interested in, leaving some time in the middle of the day to have lunch somewhere near.

You choose a sandwich bar that has a nice winter garden at the back looking out to a little pond. You sit at a small table, the conversation hasn’t stopped since the morning, only paused when the presentations were happening, but you always picked up right where you were before. Harry tells you about his time at university back in the UK and you’re a little surprised to hear that he was kind of a wild kid for a while.

“You? Wild?” you laugh. “I can’t picture it.

“It was mostly the first year though. Felt like I can’t miss out on anything so I was at every party and gathering,” he chuckles softly.

“And why did you stop?” “I don’t know,” he shrugs, but you know he is not telling you the truth, so you gently kick his leg under the table. “Alright, but you can’t laugh!”

“I won’t, I promise!”

“It sounds very nerdy, but I fell in love with studying. I mean I was always a good student, that’s why I could finish high school earlier, but I did it to be done with it already. But then I grew an odd love to studying, to learning new things. I wanted to read every book there is, know everything in the world.”

“And do you know everything now?” you ask with a soft smile, completely in awe with how he talks about his passion for sciences. You don’t find it funny at all, more admirable.

“Not even a fraction of it,” he chuckles. “But I learn something new every day,” he shrugs.

“What did you learn today?”

“That Nicki Minaj and Miley Cyrus had… beef?” He is a little unsure about the last word that you taught him today in the car when you were listening to a song from Miley. It sounds so funny hearing from his mouth.

“Yeah, beef,” you nod chuckling. “Great knowledge you’ve learned today.”

“I learn a lot from you,” he smiles cheekily. “But really. I’m glad you could come today. Felt like I needed to take this step since you took the one before this.”

“Huh?” you ask, a little confused about what he is talking about. Then, as if he realizes he just said something he shouldn’t have, he chuckles nervously, keeping his eyes on his iced tea on the table.

“Well, I hope this won’t be too weird, but when you emailed me your paper back in October and I replied… I put my phone number into my signature and told myself that if you use it, I’ll take it as a hint that you… are open to more. And you did send me a text, took the risk so I thought I should be taking it next.”

You look at him in awe. So you were right, he did put his number in just for you and wanted you to use it. You’re amazed at how sneaky he was to find out how you’re feeling about him, but now you’re glad you took the risk and texted him.

“So you asked me to come today. I see where we are standing,” you nod smirking.

“You’re not mad? At the number thing?”

“Why would I?” you ask with a soft chuckle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Yes, but we agreed to keep it professional and all along I yearned for something more and threw you this hint. When I sent the email I wanted to take it back immediately, thinking that you’d see through me right away,” he admits.

“Well, I didn’t,” you tell him making him laugh. “I debated for a long time whether I should text you or not and then just… said fuck it!”

“I’m glad you did,” he smirks and his gaze holds yours for a little, you can feel the moment you’re sharing. This conversation has definitely opened a door for the two of you.

The rest of the day passes by peacefully. You love having Harry with you and discuss the presentations with him later. He has a great mind, you love sharing your thoughts with him, get deep whenever something really catches your attention. It’s so easy to talk to him and you actually feel like he values your thoughts, unlike some men you had to deal with in the past.

During the ride back home you keep thinking about whether you should take it any further or not. You surely don’t want him to be just a one night stand anymore, it’s still very fresh but you actually feel like you’ve started falling for him and you wonder where he is standing in the situation right now. Today has changed a lot so when he parks in front of your building, you decide to just risk it again, like you did it so many times with him.

“Would you want to come up for a little? I could show you that article I talked about today,” you say, trying to sound calm though you see the surprise in his eyes, he wasn’t expecting this invitation.

“I… would love to. You sure it’s not too late?”

“Positive,” you smirk at him unbuckling yourself.

He follows you up to your apartment. It’s definitely not as big as his home, but you take pride in it. It’s the perfect size for you and you’ve worked a lot on making it your home. Harry is looking around, inspecting the place as you walk into the small kitchen and grab two bottles of beer, offering one for him.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, following you to sit on the plush couch you adore so much. It feels like a cloud is swallowing you up. “This place suits you.”

“Thanks. You know, this is what I thought about yours too.”

“Yeah? I think mine is just a mess,” he chuckles, taking a sib from his beer.

“It’s a good mess. Liked it.”

There is some tension, but in a good way if you might say. As if you both were unsure about where it’s heading, walking on eggshells, not knowing where the boundaries are lying as of right now.

“You know, the semester is almost over,” you imply, giving him an innocent look.

“I’m very much aware of that, the pile of tests on my desk waiting to be graded reminds me every day of it,” he chuckles making you smile too.

“Mhm and it also means that very soon you won’t be my professor anymore.”

You scoot closer, your knees coming in contact with his thigh and he sucks on his breath, looking down at the spot where you two touch. You really hope he won’t turn you down, because you’ve already gotten your hopes up about making it work.

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” you nod confidently. He doesn’t move and you’re losing patience. So grabbing his beer from his hand you place his and yours as well to the small coffee table before shamelessly swinging a leg over him, sitting on his lap. Your hands rest on his broad shoulders and his hands immediately find their way to your waist, his thumb caressing the skin that shows from under your ridden up shirt. However you see hesitation in his eyes.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s going on in your head, talk to me,” you ask him softly, tilting your head to the side.

“I just… I know soon it’s gonna be alright for us to… you know. But I… I hope you know it’s not a game for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“That I’m all in, Y/N. I know it’s been a crazy few months, but I really like you. A lot. I love talking to you, I love it when you are talking so passionately about things that interest you. I love how open and hardworking you are. I think that you’re an amazing person and I don’t want this to just be some passing, quick thing. I’m serious about this. About you.”

You can’t hold your growing smile back as your hands move up to cup his cheeks. Leaning closer you peck his lips softly.

“Great. Because I’m serious too.”

Harry breathes out in relief and a second later he is kissing you hungrily, letting his desire take over after holding back for so long. You weren’t the only one having a hard time during lectures. He hated how he always found himself looking in your way, thinking about how beautiful you are, how amazing it felt to hold you in his arms and it ached his heart that he had to keep himself so far away from you. When you took the risk and texted him, he could cry in excitement and he knew right in that moment that he is fucked for you.

Though it started a little rocky, now that he has you in his arms again, he wouldn’t change a thing, because it brought him to this very moment and he is overwhelmed with joy. He is more than ready to show you how serious he is about you, not just with his words but his actions, so he is quick to leave the couch and navigate into your bedroom to relive that mind-blowing night the two of you shared back in late August.

“Congrats, Miss Y/L/N. We are looking forward to seeing you work your magic as the leader of the group.” The executive manager shakes your hand and you see your boss from the corner of your eye, looking at you proudly.

“Thank you. I won’t disappoint,” you smile back.

You say your goodbye to everyone else in the room before finally heading out with the widest smile on your face. You did it. You finally got the promotion.

You finished your masters just a month ago and this meeting was scheduled almost immediately. For a while you were afraid they wouldn’t wait until you finish your studies, but they proved that they wanted no one else but you, making you feel so valued.

Walking back to your office you do the rest of your work left for the day, finishing up every pending task so you can be free for the weekend. When five o’clock finally comes you pack up and head out. Pushing through the double doors you step out into the warm July afternoon, immediately spotting a mop of curls you know all too well. Harry is waiting for you leant against his car with a huge bouquet of flowers, smiling at you with pride as he watches you cross the parking lot.

“What’s this for?” you ask teasingly when he pushes himself away from the car and kisses you softly before saying anything.

“A little something to celebrate your promotion.”

“How do you know I got it?” you ask, trying your best to sound serious. He narrows his eyes at you in suspicion.

“I knew you’d get it, who else would get it? Did they not fucking give it to you?” he asks, working himself up at the thought that you weren’t the one to get promoted.

“Relax, I got it,” you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him a little longer this time.

“I was ready to fight whoever I needed to,” he mumbles against your lips, a smirk tugging on the corners of his mouth.

“What a gentleman,” you giggle pecking his lips again.

“That I am. And not just because I would throw a fist for my love, but because I knew you’d get it so I went ahead and booked us a mini vacation for this weekend. So let’s head home, you have thirty minutes to pack before we leave,” he smirks down at you, clearly satisfied with himself.

Harry is always full of surprises. In the one and half year you’ve been officially together, he never failed to surprise you with the tiniest things, make you feel loved and appreciated no matter how long you’ve been dating.

“Where are we going?” you ask in excitement, eyebrows shooting up on your forehead.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”

Harry listened to every hint you’ve dropped how you’d love to spend some time away in some cabin in the woods, disconnecting from the world just for a little and he found the perfect place for that a few hours away. He knew you’d be the one to get promoted so he took the risk to book it weeks ahead, making sure you’ll have the perfect place for the celebration. You have a slight guess it’s gonna be like that because Harry is great at taking hints, but what you doesn’t know is that deep down his already packed suitcase, there’s a little velvety box with a ring inside it that he plans to put on your finger this weekend, hoping you’ll give him the answer he wants to hear.

And you will. Because you are head over heels in love with this man, have been for a while and you want to spend the rest of your life with him.

The two of you head home and your hand finds his over the shifting gear, lacing your fingers together with his. Glancing at you he kisses your knuckles, pressing a long kiss to your empty ring finger.

“I love you,” he tells you and the three little words never fail to make your heart flutter. While the lamp is still red you quickly lean over and steal a kiss from his soft, pink lips.

“I love you too, professor,” you tell him teasingly. He didn’t like it when you called him that back when he was still just your professor, but since the air has been clear, he grew a liking to it, especially because he can’t get enough of hearing you moan it in the bedroom.

You call him a lot of other pet names too. Baby, H, Har, Sweets, whatever comes to your mind while he likes calling you his baby, Angel, Princess or Love. And as the two of you head home he thinks about how he wants two new names to be added to the list. Husband and wife.

 -

Thank you for reading! Please like and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

 @harrysgloves​